The Armourer's Apprentice — page 64: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

beaten cheek of he old Ere as he sole! Hayes's hand, and assured him of his for- giveness. “This noble friend of yours has ‘told me your strange story,” he added. “Tt is happily ended so far,” said the preacher; “ but with God’s blessing ib may have a- happier sequel. Would you see PNK aret Ranson once again?” ' “The hope of such a happiness was gone _ for ever,” replied Hayes; “ but this night hes, ome its unexpected joy revives it. Would pa ae ee hier or would her father, see me again?” silage “She believes you dead,” replied Bonnell ; Anh os ‘that she would be rejoiced to find you living, how can I doubt? When I saw her dest, she still wore mourning for her loss, and her father spoke of you with tender- _ ness and regret as one who might have been happy with his daughter, and who might have relieved him of the cares of his busi- ness now in his old age.” in te shorrow Jaco'nBonnell. wrotao | mars sre aret and her father that Richard Hayes svas known to be still living, and that he - would come to them that week to bring more important tidings; and m a day or two Hayes and he started together. It was in the winter time, with some snow on the ground, and the old-fashioned “ Highflyer” coach was four days upon the road—an sndless and a weary time; but Hayes’s heart was lighter than it had been for many years. Inthe oldinns where he staid on the ‘oad, when he succeeded in falling into a ) daze at night, he dreamad of being again _ anapprentice inthe old saddle-maker’s shop, with abe the miseries of his fuiure life still ; f. pee SF reich Lig Zee a) i : ieee Bien i a eS i aa ; e 7 J “ mmareitullf hidden Hi » hia tebe dream of dreamsit was; but when stood before the old house again, and log } up at ite plastered front, and its wo wooden steps leading into the sho in which he had known so much SOITOY and delight; and at the small mee oa window, from which he had dropp the porch on the night when he and found all still unchanged, a “ii doubt and fear passed over him, 80 happily to vanish. Jacob Bonnell entere first, and stayed some time, preparing t way for his companion. Then he came ou and led his companion into the room b the shop, where the old man, though n decrepit, was sitting in an arm-chair by th fire, exactly as of old; and, oh! crown delight of all! his own Margaret, he mourned for and loved his memory TO1 all, fell on his shoulder, uttering no wo but only sobbed for joy. Not dead! Unle the miserable outcast, the poor soldier, a the gloomy misanthrope were one ° him. Jacob Bonnell staid with them for som days, doing many good offices to poor pet sons in the town, though he visited t afterwards once 4 year, ta their in the circuit of his labours. Hee them always to be mindful of the dence which had led them to so happy issue: for Hayes, before his next was the husband of Margaret, and the o saddle-maker had retired, leaving allt conduct of his trade to his old apprenti Richard Mayes. | ‘eet Tene ' “