It was not easy to keep the light always in view, but he managed to bear in that direction, and came at last into a region of meadow land, where there were some sheepfolds and pens, in which the flocks had been folded for the night, and which were watched over by a dog, who sprang barking towards Garret, but was pacified when he spoke gently to him, and showed by his actions that he had no intentions upon the sheep.

From where he stood he was able to see that the light glimmered out of an unglazed window in a wattled cabin, evidently the sleeping place of the shepherd.  After Garret had quieted the dog, he remained gazing for a few minutes at this steady light, and then (he scarcely knew why) he crept up very softly towards the little cabin, and looked in at the orifice.

The sight that he saw aroused his quickened interest.  The place was very small—­only large enough to contain a few sacks of straw for the bed, over which a couple of fleeces had been thrown by way of covering, a small rough table, on which a rush light stood, together with a few wooden platters, a loaf of bread, and a pitcher.  A box was the only seat, and upon it sat a grizzled, bent old man, with his back towards the window, and his head bent low over the table.

By shifting his position very slightly, Garret was able to see that he was bending over a book which lay open beneath the rush light, and that with his forefinger he was pointing slowly along the line.

Garret held his breath in astonishment.  In towns, at this time, would be found here and there a humble artisan or labouring man who could read, and amongst such the desire for the printed Scriptures was always keen and ardent.  But out here in these lonely wilds, far away from the haunts of man, it was a strange sight to see an old shepherd with a book before him.  The boys of the rising generation were beginning to be taught reading and writing in the grammar schools now springing up in the towns, but hinds of the age of this man were generally absolutely ignorant of letters in any form whatever.

The sound of a voice broke the stillness.  The old man had begun to read the words aloud.

“I will—­smite the—­shepherd—­and the—­sheep—­shall be scattered—­”

Suddenly a great wave of emotion came upon Garret, and he uttered a strangled cry.  The old man hastily thrust his book into the bosom of his coarse tunic, and gazed out of the opening with a strange expression of doubt and fear.

“What was that?” he asked, as he rose to his feet; and Garret, flinging back his priest’s hood, looked fearlessly in at the aperture.

“It is a friend, who loves the holy Word of God, and loves all who are bold enough to love and cherish it, also a man to whom a message has been sent through you, my worthy friend.  Open the door and let us clasp hands, for I know that the Lord hath sent me hither, and hath put a word in thy mouth which is meant for me.  What shall become of the sheep if the shepherd be smitten?  But shall the shepherd flee, unless he be an hireling and love not the sheep?  The shepherd must watch yet over his flock, even though he hold himself away from the hand of the smiter.  I see it all—­I see it all!  The Lord hath given me light!”