'I'm not afeared; but I can't stay here where little Nan died.

I'll go back to the pit, and wait till morning.

Be sharp!' There was no need after that to urge Martha to hasten.

After throwing a shawl over her head, she started off for Longville with the swiftness of a hare; and was soon past the engine-house, and threading her way cautiously through Botfield, where she dreaded to be discovered as she passed the lighted windows, or across the gleam of some open door.

Many of the houses were quite closed up and dark, but in some there was a voice of talking; and here and there Martha saw a figure stealing like herself along the deepest shadows.