lse she could scarcely be perceived to breathe. The attendant
said that she had not spoken.

It was some time before the doctor arrived. After a brief examination,
he came out with Hubert; his opinion was that the sufferer would not see
daybreak.

She lived, however, for some twelve hours, if that could be called life
which was only distinguishable from the last silence by the closest
scrutiny. Hubert did not move from the bedside, and from time to time
Mr. Wyvern came and sat with him. Neither of them spoke. Hubert had
no thought of food or rest; the shadow of a loss, of which he only
understood the meaning now that it was at hand, darkened him and all the
world. Behind his voiceless misery was immeasurable hatred of those who
had struck him this blow; at moments a revengeful fury all but maddened
him. He held his mother's band; if he could but feel one pressure of
the slight fingers before they were impotent for ever! And this much
was granted him. Shortly before midday the open eyes trembled to
consciousness, the lips moved in endeavour to speak. To Hubert it seemed
that his intense gaze had worked a miracle, effecting that which his
will demanded. She saw him and understood.

'Mother, can you speak? Do you know me, dear?'

She smiled, and her lips tried to shape words. He bent over her, close,
close. At first the faint whisper was unintelligible, then he heard:

'They did not know what they were doing.'

Something followed, but he could not understand it. The whisper ended in
a sigh, the smiling features quivered. He held her, but was alone.

A hand was laid gently upon his shoulder. Through blinding tears he
discerned Mr. Wyvern's solemn countenance. He resisted the efforts to
draw him away, but was at length persuaded.

Early in the evening he fell asleep, lying dressed upon his bed, and
the sleep lasted till midnight. Then he left his room, and descended the
stairs, for the lower part of the house was still lighted. In the hall
Mr. Wyvern met him.

'Let us go into the library,' he said to the clergyman. 'I want to talk
to you.'

He had resumed his ordinary manner. Without mention of his mother, he
began at once to speak of the rioters.

'They were led by that man Redgrave; there can be no doubt of that. I
shall go to Agworth at once and set the police at work.'

'I have already done that,' replied the vicar. 'Three fellows have been
arrested in Agworth.'

'New Wanley men?'

'Yes; but Redgrave is