"Only a shepherd—and you seem almost a farmer by your ways."
"Only a shepherd," Gabriel repeated, in a dull cadence of finality. His thoughts were directed to the past, his eyes to the feet of the girl, and for the first time he saw lying there a bundle of some sort. She may have perceived the direction of his face, for she said coaxingly,—
"You won't say anything in the parish about having seen me here, will you—at least, not for a day or two?"
"I won't if you wish me not to," said Oak.
"Thank you, indeed," the other replied. "I am rather poor, and I don't want people to know anything about me." Then she was silent and shivered.
"You ought to have a cloak on such a cold night," Gabriel observed. "I would advise you to get indoors."
"Oh no! Would you mind going on and leaving me? I thank you much for what you have told me."
"I will go on," he said; adding hesitatingly,—"Since you are not very well off, perhaps you would accept this trifle from me. It is only a shilling, but it is all I have to spare."
"Yes, I will take it," said the stranger, gratefully.
