While he is eating we will say a word about the cottage.  It was small, containing only four rooms, furnished in the plainest fashion.  The rooms, however, were exceedingly neat, and presented an appearance of comfort.  Yet the united income of Mrs. Larkin and Luke was very small.  Luke received a dollar a week for taking care of the schoolhouse, but this income only lasted forty weeks in the year.  Then he did odd jobs for the neighbors, and picked up perhaps as much more.  Mrs. Larkin had some skill as a dressmaker, but Groveton was a small village, and there was another in the same line, so that her income from this source probably did not average more than three dollars a week.  This was absolutely all that they had to live on, though there was no rent to pay; and the reader will not be surprised to learn that Luke had no money to spend for watches.

“Are you tired, Luke?” asked his mother, after supper.

“No, mother.  Can I do anything for you?”

“I have finished a dress for Miss Almira Clark.  I suppose she will want to wear it to church to-morrow.  But she lives so far away, I don’t like to ask you to carry it to her.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.  It won’t do me any harm.”

“You will get tired.”

“If I do, I shall sleep the better for it.”

“You are a good son, Luke.”

“I ought to be.  Haven’t I got a good mother?”

So it was arranged.  About seven o’clock, after his chores were done—­for there was some wood to saw and split—­Luke set out, with the bundle under his arm, for the house of Miss Clark, a mile and a half away.

It was a commonplace errand, that on which Luke had started, but it was destined to be a very important day in his life.  It was to be a turning-point, and to mark the beginning of a new chapter of experiences.  Was it to be for good or ill?  That we are not prepared to reveal.  It will be necessary for the reader to follow his career, step by step, and decide for himself.

Of course, Luke had no thought of this when he set out.  To him it had been a marked day on account of the skating match, but this had turned out a disappointment.  He accomplished his errand, which occupied a considerable time, and then set out on his return.  It was half-past eight, but the moon had risen and diffused a mild radiance over the landscape.  Luke thought he would shorten his homeward way by taking a path through the woods.  It was not over a quarter of a mile, but would shorten the distance by as much more.  The trees were not close together, so that it was light enough to see.  Luke had nearly reached the edge of the wood, when he overtook a tall man, a stranger in the neighborhood, who carried in his hand a tin box.  Turning, he eyed Luke sharply.

“Boy, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Luke Larkin,” our hero answered, in surprise.

“Where do you live?”

“In the village yonder.”