At the end of this affecting appeal the German rose. He went to the box at the foot of his bed; out of it he took a black hat, which had evidently been seldom worn and carefully preserved.

“It’s not exactly what you may have been accustomed to,” he said nervously, putting it down beside the battered chimney-pot, “but it might be of some use — a protection to the head, you know.”

“My friend,” said Bonaparte, “you are not following my advice; you are allowing yourself to be reproached on my account. Do not make yourself unhappy. No; I shall go bareheaded.”

“No, no, no!” cried the German energetically. “I have no use for the hat, none at all. It is shut up in the box.”

“Then I will take it, my friend. It is comfort to one’s own mind when you have unintentionally injured any one to make reparation. I know the feeling. The hat may not be of that refined cut of which the old one was, but it will serve, yes, it will serve. Thank you,” said Bonaparte, adjusting it on his head, and then replacing it on the table. “I shall lie down now and take a little repose,” he added; “I much fear my appetite for supper will be lost.”

“I hope not, I hope not,” said the German, reseating himself at his work, and looking much concerned as Bonaparte stretched himself on the bed and turned the end of the patchwork quilt over his feet.

“You must not think to make your departure, not for many days,” said the German presently. “Tant’ Sannie gives her consent, and — ”

“My friend,” said Bonaparte, closing his eyes sadly, “you are kind; but were it not that to-morrow is the Sabbath, weak and trembling as I lie here, I would proceed on my way. I must seek work; idleness but for a day is painful. Work, labor — that is the secret of all true happiness!”

He doubled the pillow under his head, and watched how the German drew the leather thongs in and out.

After awhile Lyndall silently put her book on the shelf and went home, and the German stood up and began to mix some water and meal for roaster-cakes. As he stirred them with his hands he said, —

“I make always a double supply on Saturday night; the hands are then free as the thoughts for Sunday.”

“The blessed Sabbath!” said Bonaparte.

There was a pause. Bonaparte twisted his eyes without moving his head, to see if supper were already on the fire.

“You must sorely miss the administration of the Lord’s word in this desolate spot,” added Bonaparte. “Oh, how love I Thine house, and the place where Thine honor dwelleth!”

“Well, we do; yes,” said the German; “but we do our best. We meet together, and I — well, I say a few words, and perhaps they are not wholly lost, not quite.”

“Strange coincidence,” said Bonaparte; “my plan always was the same. Was in the Free State once — solitary farm — one neighbor. Every Sunday I called together friend and neighbor, child and servant, and said, ‘Rejoice with me, that we may serve the Lord,’ and then I addressed them. Ah, those were blessed times,” said Bonaparte; “would they might return.”