of　his　own　in　any　trifling　matter　between　them。　Whatever　the　men
  might　say；　Mr。　Knifton　was　a　model　husband　in　the　estimation　of
  all　the　women　who　knew　him。
  〃You　will　see　us　as　we　come　back；　Bessie。　Till　then；　you　are　our
  banker；　and　the　pocketbook　is　yours；〃　cried　Mrs。　Knifton；　gayly；
  at　the　door。　Her　husband　lifted　her　into　the　saddle；　mounted
  himself；　and　away　they　both　galloped　over　the　moor　as　wild　and
  happy　as　a　couple　of　children。
  Although　my　being　trusted　with　money　by　Mrs。　Knifton　was　no
  novelty　（in　her　maiden　days　she　always　employed　me　to　pay　her
  dress…maker's　bills）；　I　did　not　feel　quite　easy　at　having　a
  pocketbook　full　of　bank…notes　left　by　her　in　my　charge。　I　had　no
  positive　apprehensions　about　the　safety　of　the　deposit　placed　in
  my　hands；　but　it　was　one　of　the　odd　points　in　my　character　then
  （and　I　think　it　is　still）　to　feel　an　unreasonably　strong
  objection　to　charging　myself　with　money　responsibilities　of　any
  kind；　even　to　suit　the　convenience　of　my　dearest　friends。　As　soon
  as　I　was　left　alone；　the　very　sight　of　the　pocketbook　behind　the
  glass　door　of　the　book…case　began　to　worry　me；　and　instead　of
  returning　to　my　work；　I　puzzled　my　brains　about　finding　a　place
  to　lock　it　up　in；　where　it　would　not　be　exposed　to　the　view　of
  any　chance　passers…by　who　might　stray　into　the　Black　Cottage。
  This　was　not　an　easy　matter　to　compass　in　a　poor　house　like　ours；
  where　we　had　nothing　valuable　to　put　under　lock　and　key。　After
  running　over　various　hiding…places　in　my　mind；　I　thought　of　my
  tea…caddy；　a　present　from　Mrs。　Knifton；　which　I　always　kept　out
  of　harm's　way　in　my　own　bedroom。　Most　unluckilyas　it　afterward
  turned　outinstead　of　taking　the　pocketbook　to　the　tea…caddy；　I
  went　into　my　room　first　to　take　the　tea…caddy　to　the　pocketbook。
  I　only　acted　in　this　roundabout　way　from　sheer　thoughtlessness；
  and　severely　enough　I　was　punished　for　it；　as　you　will
  acknowledge　yourself　when　you　have　read　a　page　or　two　more　of　my
  story。
  I　was　just　getting　the　unlucky　tea…caddy　out　of　my　cupboard；　when
  I　heard　footsteps　in　the　passage；　and；　running　out　immediately；
  saw　two　men　walk　into　the　kitchenthe　room　in　which　I　had
  received　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Knifton。　I　inquired　what　they　wanted
  sharply　enough；　and　one　of　them　answered　immediately　that　they
  wanted　my　father。　He　turned　toward　me；　of　course；　as　he　spoke；
  and　I　recognized　him　as　a　stone…mason；　going　among　his　comrades
  by　the　name　of　Shifty　Dick。　He　bore　a　very　bad　character　for
  everything　but　wrestling；　a　sport　for　which　the　working　men　of
  our　parts　were　famous　all　through　the　county。　Shifty　Dick　was
  champion；　and　he　had　got　his　name　from　some　tricks　of　wrestling；
  for　which　he　was　celebrated。　He　was　a　tall；　heavy　man；　with　a
  lowering；　scarred　face；　and　huge　hairy　handsthe　last　visitor　in
  the　whole　world　that　I　should　have　been　glad　to　see　under　any
  circumstances。　His　companion　was　a　stranger；　whom　he　addressed　by
  the　name　of　Jerrya　quick；　dapper；　wicked…looking　man；　who　took
  off　his　cap　to　me　with　mock　politeness；　and　showed；　in　so　doing；
  a　very　bald　head；　with　some　very　ugly…looking　knobs　on　it。　I
  distrusted　him　worse　than　I　did　Shifty　Dick；　and　managed　to　get
  between　his　leering　eyes　and　the　book…case；　as　I　told　the　two
  that　my　father　was　gone　out；　and　that　I　did　not　expect　him　back
  till　the　next　day。
  The　words　were　hardly　out　of　my　mouth　before　I　repented　that　my
  anxiety　to　get　rid　of　my　unwelcome　visitors　had　made　me
  incautious　enough　to　acknowledge　that　my　father　would　be　away
  from　home　for　the　whole　night。
  Shifty　Dick　and　his　companion　looked　at　each　other　when　I
  unwisely　let　out　the　truth；　but　made　no　remark　except　to　ask　me
  if　I　would　give　them　a　drop　of　cider。　I　answered　sharply　that　I
  had　no　cider　in　the　house；　having　no　fear　of　the　consequences　of
  refusing　them　drink；　because　I　knew　that　plenty　of　men　were　at
  work　within　hail；　in　a　neighboring　quarry。　The　two　looked　at　each
  other　again　when　I　denied　having　any　cider　to　give　them；　and
  Jerry　（as　I　am　obliged　to　call　him；　knowing　no　other　name　by
  which　to　distinguish　the　fellow）　took　off　his　cap　to　me　once
  more；　and；　with　a　kind　of　blackguard　gentility　upon　him；　said
  they　would　have　the　pleasure　of　calling　the　next　day；　when　my
  father　was　at　home。　I　said　good…afternoon　as　ungraciously　as
  possible；　and；　to　my　great　relief；　they　both　left　the　cottage
  immediately　afterward。
  As　soon　as　they　were　well　away；　I　watched　them　from　the　door。
  They　trudged　off　in　the　direction　of　Moor　Farm；　and；　as　it　was
  beginning　to　get　dusk；　I　soon　lost　sight　of　them。
  Half　an　hour　afterward　I　looked　out　again。
  The　wind　had　lulled　with　the　sunset；　but　the　mist　was　rising；　and
  a　heavy　rain　was　beginning　to　fall。　Never　did　the　lonely　prospect
  of　the　moor　look　so　dreary　as　it　looked　to　my　eyes　that　evening。
  Never　did　I　regret　any　slight　thing　more　sincerely　than　I　then
  regretted　the　leaving　of　Mr。　Knifton's　pocketbook　in　my　charge。　I
  cannot　say　that　I　suffered　under　any　actual　alarm；　for　I　felt
  next　to　certain　that　neither　Shifty　Dick　nor　Jerry　had　got　a
  chance　of　setting　eyes　on　so　small　a　thing　as　the　pocketbook
  while　they　were　in　the　kitchen；　but　there　was　a　kind　of　vague
  distrust　troubling　mea　suspicion　of　the　nighta　dislike　of
  being　left　by　myself；　which　I　never　remember　having　experienced
  before。　This　feeling　so　increased　after　I　had　closed　the　door　and
  gone　back　to　the　kitchen；　that；　when　I　heard　the　voices　of　the
  quarrymen　as　they　passed　our　cottage　on　their　way　home　to　the
  village　in　the　valley　below　Moor　Farm；　I　stepped　out　into　the
  passage　with　a　momentary　notion　of　telling　them　how　I　was
  situated；　and　asking　them　for　advice　and　protection。
  I　had　hardly　formed　this　idea；　however；　before　I　dismissed　it。
  None　of　the　quarrymen　were　intimate　friends　of　mine。　I　had　a
  nodding　acquaintance　with　them；　and　believed　them　to　be　honest
  men；　as　times
  went。　But　my　own　common　sense　told　me　that　what　little　knowledge
  of　their　characters　I　had　was　by　no　means　sufficient　to　warrant
  me　in　admitting　them　into　my　confidence　in　the　matter　of　the
  pocketbook。　I　had　seen　enough　of　poverty　and　poor　men　to　know
  what　a　terrible　temptation　a　large　sum　of　money　is　to　those　whose
  whole　lives　are　passed　in　scraping　up　sixpences　by　weary　hard
  work。　It　is　one　thing　to　write　fine　sentiments　in　books　about
  incorruptible　honesty；　and　another　thing　to　put　those　sentiments
  in　practice　when　one　day's　work　is　all　that　a　man　has　to　set　up
  in　the　way　of　an　obstacle　between　starvation　and　his　own
  fireside。
  The　only　resource　that　remained　was　to　carry　the　pocketbook　with
  me　to　Moor　Farm；　and　ask　permission　to　pass　the　night　there。　But
  I　could　not　persuade　myself　that　there　was　any　real　necessity　for
  taking　such　a　course　as　this；　and；　if　the　truth　must　be　told；　my
  pride　revolted　at　the　idea　of　presenting　myself　in　the　character
  of　a　coward　before　the　people　at　the　farm。　Timidity　is　thought
  rather　a　graceful　attraction　among　ladies；　but　among　poor　women
  it　is　something　to　be　laughed　at。　A　woman　with　less　spirit　of　her
  own　than　I　had；　and　always　shall　have；　would　have　considered
  twice　in　my　situation　before　she　made　up　her　mind　to　encounter
  the　jokes　of　plowmen　and　the　jeers　of　milkmaids。　As　for　me；　I　had
  hardly　considered　about　going　to　the　farm　before　I　despised
  myself　for　entertaining　any　such　notion。　〃No；　no；〃　thought　I；　〃I
  am　not　the　woman　to　walk　a　mile　and　a　half　through　rain；　and
  mist；　and　darkness　to　tell　a　whole　kitchenful　of　people　that　I　am
  afraid。　Come　what　may；　here　I　stop　till　father　gets　back。〃
  Having　arrived　at　that　valiant　resolution；　the　first　thing　I　did
  was　to　lock　and　bolt　the　back　and　front　doors；　and　see　to　the
  security　of　every　shutter　in　the　house。
  That　duty　performed；　I　made　a　blazing　fire；　lighted　my　candle；
  and　sat　down　to　tea；　as　snug　and　comfortable　as　possible。　I　could
  hardly　believe　now；　with　the　light　in　the　room；　and　the　sense　of
  security　inspired　by　the　closed　doors　and　shutters；　that　I　had
  ever　felt　even　the　slightest　apprehension　earlier　in　the　day。　I
  sang　as　I　washed　up　the　tea…things；　and　even　the　cat　seemed　to
  catch　the　infection　of　my　good　spirits。　I　never　knew　the　pretty
  creature　so　playful　as　she　was　that　evening。
  The　tea…things　put　by；　I　took　up　my　knitting；　and　worked　away　at
  it　so　long　that　I　began　at　last　to　get　drowsy。　The　fire　was　so
  bright　and　comforting　that　I　could　not　muster　resolution　enough
  to　leave　it　and　go　to　bed。　I　sat　staring　lazily　into　the　blaze；
  with　my　knitting　on　my　lapsat　till　the　splashing　of　the　rain
  outside　and　the　fitful；　sullen　sobbing　of　the　wind　grew　fainter
  and　fainter　on　my　ear。　The　last　sounds　I　heard　before　I　fairly
  dozed　off　to　sleep　were　the　cheerful　crackling　of　the　fire　and
  the　steady　purring　of　the　cat；　as　she　basked　luxuriously　in　the
  warm　light　on　the　hearth。　Those　were　the　last　sounds　before　I
  fell　asleep。　The　sound　that　woke　me　was　one　loud　bang　at　the
  front　door。
  I　started　up；　with　my　heart　（as　the　saying　is）　in　my　mouth；　with
  a　frightful　momentary　shuddering　at　the　roots　of　my　hairI
  started　up　breathless；　cold　and　motionless；　waiting　in　the
  silence　I　hardly　knew　for　what；　doubtful　at　first　whether　I　had
  dreamed　about　the　bang　at　the　door；　or　whe