n dragged him away, and in the scuffle thought Bernard had
struck him; Meekin swore that he did.

"Stephen, when set up, was furiously passionate, and without taking
time for thought, he snatched a switch from the hand of Ben, and laid
it on Bernard till his back and even the sides of his face were covered
with wheals. The poor boy ran, and Stephen after him. Stephen was even
the more provoked because Benjamin cried to him to desist.

"Bernard at last got away from him by a little gate which led into the
garden, and he continued to run until he had come to the arbour and the
grotto. He had never gone to that corner of the shrubbery since the
news had come of the loss of the _Dory_; and at first, when he almost
dropped down on one of the benches, he scarcely recollected where he
was. He was seated exactly where he had sat with Lucilla on the last
Whitsun-Monday. The mouth of the grotto was exactly before him; the
winter's wind had driven the dead damp leaves into it, and there had
been no one to clear them away. The highest point of the little window
in the back, which Lucilla herself had painted on a piece of board,
just peeped above the heap of leaves. Bernard thought of the tools
Lucilla had bought; they were lying, no doubt, rusting in a corner.

"'Oh, Lucilla!' he cried; and bursting into tears, he laid his hands on
the table, and stooped his face upon them: the board was quite wet with
his tears when he looked up again.

"He was startled by the sudden ringing out of the bells. Stephen and
the boys had gone to cool themselves in the belfry, after leaving the
pony undocked in the field.

"How did those bells remind the unhappy boy of the year before, for he
had heard them when sitting in that very place with Lucilla! He
remembered his hardness and pride at that time, and like the Prodigal
Son to his father, he cried to his God, 'I have sinned against heaven
and before Thee, and am not worthy to be called Thy son.'

"Could Lucilla have foreknown in what spirit her dear brother would
have spoken those words in that place, at the end of twelve months
after she had brought him there, she would have been filled with joy,
and would have said, 'My God, I thank Thee, for Thou hast heard my
prayers.'

"When Bernard was getting more calm, his tears were made to flow again
by the sight of the broken splinters and one of Lucilla's beads on the
gravel at his feet. He took up the bead, wrapped it in a bit of paper,
put it