ed to wander about the passages till after ten
o'clock; and there was no assembly for prayers in the dining-room as
usual. A great shadow and fear seemed to hang over the house. Brian
was taken away by his mother to his own room and put to bed.

"Take him out of my sight. He is the cause of all this," Mr. Colquhoun
had said sternly, seeing he was fully recovered and inclined to make
explanations.

Mr. Colquhoun and Maggie sat up together by Jeff's bedside. He lay
most of the night still and white. Towards daybreak a pink spot came
into each cheek, and he breathed more quickly and grew restless. At
last he began to speak:

"Oh, mother, I cannot bear it--_indeed_ I cannot bear it! No one loves
me here, it is lonely--and they won't even believe me or trust me--they
think I am a liar. Brian looks so good, and he is never found
out--they think he must be true. When will you come, mother?--oh, I
want you, I want you."

All the pent-up sorrow of weeks and months went out in the last bitter
cry. Then, as if awakened by his own intensity of feeling, Jeff opened
his eyes and was suddenly conscious of his surroundings.

"Uncle Hugh, where am I? Why are you sitting here? Have I been ill?
Oh, yes, I remember all now. I heard Brian scream, and I ran down to
the lake. He was not drowned, was he? Oh, if I had saved him! mother
would be so glad; because he is my enemy, you know. Why does my head
ache so much; it all seems confused too. I wish you would believe me,
Uncle Hugh; indeed I told the truth."

The man of starch bent down till his face was very near to Jeff. His
voice was a little husky:

"I believe you now, my little lad. I could never doubt you again; you
have behaved like a hero!"

Then Jeff half raised himself on his pillows, and the dim morning light
revealed an elastic [Transcriber's note: ecstatic?] smile on his pale
face.

"Oh, say that again. I do want to be a hero before mother comes."

He fell back once more, murmuring,

"I am so tired and sleepy, and so happy now. Uncle Hugh, will you hear
me say my prayers? After I had been unhappy mother always heard me say
my prayers. And I think--perhaps I have cheated God lately--since you
punished me, for I would not say 'forgive us our trespasses as we
forgive them that trespass against us.' I did not forgive you or
Brian, and I could not say it. Now I can, and it will be all right.
God will understand."

Soon after Jeff fell into a dee