CHAPTER XIV.
A BROTHER'S GRIEF.
In a very short time all the people at work on the surface of the mine knew that Stephen Fern's little sister was dead--lying dead in the very pit where he was then labouring for her, with the spirit and strength and love of a father rather than a brother.

Every face was overcast and grave; and many of the boys and girls were weeping, for little Nan had endeared herself to them all since she came to live at the cinder-hill cabin.

Tim felt faint and heart-sick, almost wishing he could have perished in the child's stead, for poor Stephen's sake; but he had to rouse himself, for one of the banksmen was going to shout the terrible tidings down the shaft; and if Stephen should be near, instead of being at work farther in the pit, the words would fall upon him without any softening or preparation.

He implored them to wait until he could run and tell Miss Anne; but while he was speaking they saw Miss Anne herself coming towards the pit, her face very pale and sorrowful, for the rumour had reached the master's house, and she was hastening to meet Stephen, and comfort him, if that were possible.
'Oh, Miss Anne!' cried Tim; 'it will kill poor Stephen, if it come upon him sudden like.

I know the way through the old pit to where poor little Nan has fallen; and I'll go and find her.