Well, you will be free to-morrow; you may go to her and tell
her she is a fool for her pains. Here are your indentures, and
here's the salary that's due to you. Now you may go to bed."
As he spoke the last words, he had taken the indentures from a desk,
and the money from his purse. Stephen felt a choking sensation in
his throat as he took from his hands the paper and the money; he
would even have uttered the indignation he felt, but, before he
could speak, his master left the room. Disappointed and heart-sick,
and feeling humiliated that he should have asked a favour of such a
man, the poor lad retired to his garret, and it was almost time to
get up in the morning before he could fall asleep. On the Tuesday,
when the day's work was over, Stephen packed up his bundle of
clothes;--should he say good-bye to his master? Yes; he would not be
ungracious at the last. He opened the door of the back parlour, and
stood just within the door-way, his bundle in his hand. His master
was sitting, solitary, at the tea-table.
"I am going, sir, good-bye," said Stephen.
"Good-bye, sir," returned his master, without, looking at him. And
so they parted.
The result of the application told, the mother and the son sat
together that night in silence; their hearts were too full for
words.
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