CHAPTER XII.

asabrightfireoflogsandsticks,whichhadthoroughlywarmedtheoldsack(Silas’sgreatcoat)spreadoutonthebrickstodry.Thelittleone,accustomedtobelefttoitselfforlonghourswithoutnoticefromitsmother,squatteddownonthesack,andspreaditstinyhandstowardstheblaze,inperfectcontentment,gurglingandmakingmanyinarticulatecommunicationstothecheerfulfire,likeanew-hatchedgoslingbeginningtofinditselfcomfortable.Butpresentlythewarmthhadalullingeffect,andthelittlegoldenheadsankdownontheoldsack,andtheblueeyeswereveiledbytheirdelicatehalf-transparentlids. ButwherewasSilasMarnerwhilethisstrangevisitorhadcometohishearth?Hewasinthecottage,buthedidnotseethechild.Duringthelastfewweeks,sincehehadlosthismoney,hehadcontractedthehabitofopeninghisdoorandlookingoutfromtimetotime,asifhethoughtthathismoneymightbesomehowcomingbacktohim,orthatsometrace,somenewsofit,mightbemysteriouslyontheroad,andbecaughtbythelisteningearorthestrainingeye.Itwaschieflyatnight,whenhewasnotoccupiedinhisloom,thathefellintothisrepetitionofanactforwhichhecouldhaveassignednodefinitepurpose,andwhichcanhardlybeunderstoodexceptbythosewhohaveundergoneabewilderingseparationfromasupremelylovedobject.Intheeveningtwilight,andlaterwheneverthenightwasnotdark,SilaslookedoutonthatnarrowprospectroundtheStone-pits,listeningandgazing,notwithhope,butwithmereyearningandunrest. ThismorninghehadbeentoldbysomeofhisneighboursthatitwasNewYear’sEve,andthathemustsitupandheartheoldyearrungoutandthenewrungin,becausethatwasgoodluck,andmightbringhismoneybackagain.ThiswasonlyafriendlyRaveloe-wayofjestingwiththehalf-crazyodditiesofamiser,butithadperhapshelpedtothrowSilasintoamorethanusuallyexcitedstate.Sincetheon-comingoftwilighthehadopenedhisdooragainandagain,thoughonlytoshutitimmediatelyatseeingalldistanceveiledbythefallingsnow.Butthelasttimeheopeneditthesnowhadceased,andthecloudswerepartinghereandthere.Hestoodandlistened,andgazedforalongwhile—therewasreallysomethingontheroadcomingtowardshimthen,buthecaughtnosignofitandthestillnessandthewidetracklesssnowseemedtonarrowhissolitude,andtouchedhisyearningwiththechillofdespair.Hewentinagain,andputhisrighthandonthelatchofthedoortocloseit—buthedidnotcloseit:hewasarrested,ashehadbeenalreadysincehisloss,bytheinvisiblewandofcatalepsy,andstoodlike