For trouble like this the minister seemed to have no word of comfort.  He waited in silence until she had grown a little calmer, and then he said: 

“They say that the fellow has fled.  At least he has not been seen at the Hall since the arrival of his wife.  Have you seen anything of him?”

“He rushed in here like a madman the day she died, received her last prayer for his welfare, and threw himself out of the house again, Heaven only knows where!”

“Did he make no provision for this child?”

“I do not know; he said something about it, and he wrote something on a paper; but indeed I do not think he knew what he was about.  He was as nearly stark mad as ever you saw a man; and, anyway, he went, off without leaving anything but that bit of paper; and it is but right for me to say, sir, that I would not have taken anything from him on behalf of the child.  If the poor boy cannot have his father’s family name he shall not have anything else from him with my consent!  Those are my principles, Mr. Wynne!  I can work for Nora’s orphan boy just as I worked for my mother’s orphan girl, which was Nora, herself, sir.”

“Perhaps you are right, Hannah.  But where is that paper.  I should much like to see it,” said the minister.

“The paper he wrote and left, sir?”

“Yes; show it to me.”

“Lord bless your soul, sir, it wasn’t of no account; it was the least little scrap, with about three lines wrote on it; I didn’t take any care of it.  Heavens knows that I had other things to think of than that.  But I will try to find it if you wish to look at it,” said Hannah, rising.

Her search of course was vain, and after turning up everything in the house to no purpose she came back to the parson, and said: 

“I dare say it is swept away or burnt up; but, anyway, it isn’t worth troubling one’s self about it.”

“I think differently, Hannah; and I would advise you to search, and make inquiry, and try your best to find it.  And if you do so, just put it away in a very safe place until you can show it to me.  And now good-by, my girl; trust in the Lord, and keep up your heart,” said the minister, taking his hat and stick to depart.

When Mr. Wynne had gone Reuben Gray, who had been walking about behind the cottage, came in and said: 

“Hannah, my dear, I have got something very particular to say to you; but I feel as this is no time to say it exactly, so I only want to ask you when I may come and have a talk with you, Hannah.”

“Any time, Reuben; next Sunday, if you like.”

“Very well, my dear; next Sunday it shall be!  God bless you, Hannah; and God bless the poor boy, too.  I mean to adopt that child, Hannah, and cowhide his father within an inch of his life, if ever I find him out!”

“Talk of all this on Sunday when you come, Reuben; not now, oh, not now!”

“Sartinly not now, my dear; I see the impropriety of it.  Good-by, my dear.  Now, shan’t I send Nancy or Peggy over to stay with you?”