"That was nearly two years ago, you know, and I've been hard at it ever since. I took any thing that come along, and was glad to get it. The hat did that, I firmly believe." And he laughed a short laugh, adding soberly, "But I didn't take to work at first, for I'd been a rover and liked it; so it took a long pull and a strong pull and a pull all together before I settled down steady. The hat and the"--he was going to say "kiss;" but a look at the lonely little creature sitting there so confidingly made him change the word to--"the money seemed to bring me luck; and I followed the advice of the good old lady, and stuck to my work till I got to liking it. I've been here more than a year now, and am getting on so well I shall be overseer before long. I'm only watchman for a short time. Old Sam has been sick, and they wanted some one they could trust, so they chose me."

It was good to see him square his broad shoulders and throw back his head as he said that; and pretty to see Letty nod and smile with sincerest pleasure in his success, as she said,--

"It looks dark and ugly now; but I've seen a foundry when they were casting, and it was splendid to watch the men manage the furnaces and do wonderful things with great hammers and moulds and buckets of red-hot melted iron. I like to know you do such things, and now I'm not afraid.

It seems sort of romantic and grand to work in this place, where every one must be strong and brave and skilful to get on."

"That's it. That's why I like it; don't you see?" he answered, brightening with pleasure at her artless praise. "You just come some casting day, and I'll show you sights you won't forget in a hurry. If there wasn't danger and noise and good hard work wrastling with fire and iron, and keeping a rough set of fellows in order, I shouldn't stay; for the restless fit comes on sometimes, and I feel as if I must cut away somewhere. Born so, and can't help it. Maybe I could, if I had something to anchor me; but, as you say, 'n.o.body would care much if I was in the river,' and that's bad for a chap like me."

"Sally would care," said the girl, quite soberly; for she sympathized now with the man's loneliness as she could not have done two years ago.

"So she would; but I'll take her with me when I leave--not for the river, mind you. I'm in no danger of that nonsense now. But, if I go on a tramp (and I may, if the fit gets too strong for me), she shall go too; and we'll be d.i.c.k Whittington and his cat over again."

He spoke in a devil-may-care tone, and patted the plump Tabby with a curious mixture of boyish recklessness and a man's sad knowledge of life in his face.

"Don't go," pleaded Letty, feeling that she had a certain responsibility in the matter. "I should mind, as well as Sally; for, if Aunt Liddy and I helped put you in a good way, it would be a disappointment to have you go wrong. Please stop here, and I'll try and come to see you work some day, if I can get time. I'm likely to have plenty of it, I'm afraid."

She began eagerly, but ended with a despondent droop of the whole figure, that made her new friend forget himself in interest for her.

"I'll stop, honor bright. And you come and look after me now and then.

That'll keep me steady. See if it don't. But tell me how you are getting on? Little down on your luck just now, I guess? Come, I've told my story, you tell yours, and maybe I can lend a hand. I owe you a good turn, you know; and I'm one that likes to pay his debts, if he can."

"You did pay yours; but I never got the letter, for I came away after Aunty died. You see I wasn't her own niece,--only sort of a distant relation; and she took me because my own people were gone. Her son had all she left,--it wasn't much; and she told him to be good to me. But I soon saw that I was a burden, and couldn't bear to stay. So I went away, to take care of myself. I liked it at first; but this winter, times are so hard and work so scarce, I don't get on at all."

"What do you do, miss?" asked Whittington, with added respect; because in her shabby dress and altered face he read the story of a struggle Letty was too proud to tell.

"I sew," she answered briefly, smoothing out her wet shawl with a hand so thin and small it was pathetic to see, when one remembered that nothing but a needle in those slender fingers kept want and sin at bay.

The kindly fellow seemed to feel that; and, as his eye went from his own strong right arm to the sledge-hammer it often swung, the instinct of protection so keen in manly men made him long to stand between poor Letty and the hard world he knew so well. The magnetism of sympathy irresistibly attracted iron to steel, while little needle felt a.s.sured that big hammer would be able to beat down many of the obstacles which now seemed insurmountable, if she only dared to ask for aid. But help came without the asking.

"Been after work, you say? Why, we could give you heaps of it, if you don't mind it's being coa.r.s.e and plain. This sort of thing, you know,"

touching his red shirt with a business-like air. "Our men use 'em altogether, and like 'em strong in the seams. Some ain't, and b.u.t.tons fly off just looking at 'em. That makes a fellow mad, and swearing comes easy."

But Letty shook her head, though she couldn't help smiling at his sober way of explaining the case and its sad consequences.

"I've tried that work, and it doesn't pay. Six cents for a shirt, and sometimes only four, isn't enough to earn one's board and clothes and fire, even if one made half a dozen a day. _You_ can't get them for that, and somebody grows rich while _we_ starve.

"Hanged if I ever buy another! See here, you make me enough for a year, and we'll have a fair bargain between us. That is, if you can't do better and don't mind," he added, suddenly abating his warmth and looking almost bashful over the well-meant proposal.

"I'd love to do it. Only you mustn't pay too much," said Letty, glad of any thing to keep her hands and thoughts busy, for life was very bare and cold just then.

"All right. I'll see to it directly, and n.o.body be the wiser," returned her new employer, privately resolving to order a bale of red flannel on the morrow, and pay fabulous prices for the work of the little friend who had once kept him from worse than starvation.

It was not much to offer, and red flannel was not a romantic subject of conversation; but something in the prompt relief and the hearty good-will of the man went to Letty's heart, already full to overflowing with many cares and troubles. She tried to thank him, but could only cover up her face and sob. It was so sweet and comfortable to find any one who cared enough for her to lift her out of the slough of despond, which was to her as dangerous a mood as the desperate one he had known.

There were hands enough to beckon the winsome creature to the wrong side of the quagmire, where so many miss the stepping-stones; but she felt that this was the right side, and the hand an honest one, though rough and grimy with hard work. So the tears were glad and grateful tears, and she let them flow, melting the fatal frost that had chilled her hope and faith in G.o.d and man.

But the causer of them could not bear the sight, for the contrast between this forlorn girl and the blithe, blooming Letty of that memorable day was piteous. Manlike, he tried to express his sympathy in deeds as well as words, and, hastily filling a tin cup from the coffee-can, pressed it upon her with a fatherly stroke of the bent head and a soothing,--

"Now, my dear, just take a sip of this, and don't cry any more. We'll straighten things out. So cheer up, and let me lend a hand anywhere, anyhow."

But hunger and fear, weariness and cold, had been too much for poor Letty; and, in the act of lifting up her wet face to thank him, the light left her eyes, and she would have slipped to the ground, if he had not caught her.

In a minute she was herself again, lying on the old rug, with snow upon her forehead and some one fanning her with a newspaper.

"I thought I was going to die," she whispered, looking about her in a dazed sort of way.

"Not a bit of it! You're going to sleep. That's what you want, and old Sally's going to sit by while you do it. It's a hardish pillow; but I've put my handkerchief over it, and, being Monday, its spick-and-span clean."

Letty smiled as she turned her cheek to the faded silk handkerchief laid over the rolled-up coat under her head, for p.u.s.s.y was nestling close beside her, as if her presence was both a comfort and defence. Yet the girl's eyes filled even while she smiled, for, when most desolate, a friend had been raised up to her; and, though the face bending over her was dark and s.h.a.ggy, there was no fear in her own, as she said half-appealingly, half-confidingly,--

"I don't believe I could go if I tried, I'm so worn out. But you'll take care of me, and in the morning show me the way home?"

"Please G.o.d, I will!" he answered, as solemnly as if taking an oath, adding, as he stepped back to the stool she had left: "I shall stay here and read my paper. Nothing shall scare you; so make yourself comfortable, and drop off with an easy mind."

Sitting there, he saw her lay her hands together, as if she said some little prayer; then, turning her face from the light, she fell asleep, lulled by the drowsy purr of the humble friend to whom she clung even in her dreams. He only looked a minute, for something that was neither the shimmer of firelight nor the glitter of snow-dust made the quiet group dance mistily before his eyes; and, forgetting his paper, he fell to drying Letty's hat.

It was both comical and pleasant to see how tenderly he touched the battered thing, with what interest he surveyed it, perched on his big hand, and how carefully he smoothed out the ribbons, evidently much bewildered as to which was the front and which the back. Giving up the puzzle, he hung it on the handle of the great hammer, and, leaning his chin on his hand, began to build castles in the air and watch the red embers, as if he saw in them some vision of the future that was very pleasant.

Hour after hour struck from the city clocks across the river; the lantern burned itself out, untrimmed; the storm died away; and a soft, white silence followed the turmoil of the night. Still Letty slept like a tired child, still old Sally, faithful to her trust, lay in the circle of the girl's arm; and still the watchman sat before the fire, dreaming waking dreams, as he had often done before; but never any half so earnest, sweet, and hopeful as those that seemed to weave a tender romance about the innocent sleeper, to whom he was loyally paying a debt of grat.i.tude with such poor hospitality as he could show.

Dawn came up rosy and clear along the east; and the first level ray of wintry sunlight, as it struck across the foundry walls, fell on Letty's placid face, with the bright hair shining like a halo round it.

Feeling very much as if he had entertained an angel unaware, the man stood enjoying the pretty picture, hesitating to wake her, yet fearing that a gruff hallo from old Sam might do it too suddenly. Somehow he hated to have her go; for the gloomy foundry seemed an enchanted sort of place this morning, with a purer heaven and earth outside, and within the "little mate" whom he felt a strong desire to keep "always alongside," for something better than luck's sake.

He was smiling to himself over the thought, yet half ashamed to own how it had grown and strengthened in a night, when Letty opened wide a pair of eyes full of the peace sleep brings and the soft l.u.s.tre that comes after tears. Involuntarily the man drew back, and waited silently for her to speak. She looked bewildered for a moment, then remembered, and sprang up, full of the relief and fresh grat.i.tude that came with her first waking thought.

"How long I've slept! How very kind you were to me! I can go now, if you will start me right."

"You are heartily welcome! I can take you home at once, unless you'd rather wait for Sam," he answered, with a quick look toward the door, as if already jealous of the venerable Samuel.

"I'd rather go before any one comes. But perhaps you ought not to leave yet? I wouldn't like to take you from your duty," began Letty, looking about her for her hat.

"Duty be--hanged! I'm going to see you safe home, if you'll let me.

Here's your hat. I dried it; but it don't look quite shipshape somehow."

And taking the shabby little object from the nail where it hung, he presented it with such respectful care that a glimmer of the old mirthfulness came into Letty's face, as she said, surveying it with much disfavor,--

"It is almost as bad as the one I gave you; but it must do."

"I've got that old thing up at my place now. Keep it for luck. Wish I had one for you. Hold on! Here's a tippet--nice and warm. Have it for a hood. You'll find it cold outside."

He was so intent on making her comfortable that Letty could not refuse, and tied on the tippet, while he refilled the cup with hot coffee, carefully saved for her.

"Little Red Riding Hood! Blest if you ain't!" he exclaimed admiringly, as he turned to her again, and saw the sweet face in its new head-gear.

"But you are not the wolf," she answered, with a smile like sunshine, bending to drink from the cup he held.

As she lifted her head, the blue eyes and the black exchanged again the subtle glance of sympathy that made them friends before; only now the blue ones looked up full of grat.i.tude, and the black ones looked down soft with pity. Neither spoke; but Letty stooped, and, gathering old Sally in her arms, kissed the friendly creature, then followed her guide to the door.

"How beautiful!" she cried, as the sun came dazzling down upon the snow, that hid all dark and ugly things with a veil of purity.