The priest lay insensible at the bottom of the boat, his head pillowed upon the cloaks the youths had sacrificed for his better comfort.

It was plainly a matter of consequence that he should soon be housed in some friendly shelter.

His gray face looked ghastly in the dim moonlight which began to struggle through the fog wreaths.

When Cuthbert leaped lightly ashore hard by the bridge, and Jacob sheered off again in the darkness, he felt as though he were out alone on the black river, with only a corpse for company.
"If it were but for Cherry's sake, I would do ten-fold more," he murmured, as he glanced up in the direction of the wool stapler's shop, and pictured pretty Cherry stepping backwards and forwards at her spinning wheel.

"But I trow she will hear naught of it; or if she does, she will think only of Cuthbert's share.