to be told. And so,
when he caught sight of his mother waiting for him before the door, he
left Ranald, and thrilling with the memory of the awful peril through
which he had passed, rushed at her, and crying, "Oh, mother!" he flung
himself into her arms. "I am so glad to see you again!"

"Why, Hughie, my boy, what's the matter?" said his mother, holding her
arms tight about him. "And you are all wet! What is it?" But Hughie held
her fast, struggling with himself.

"What is it?" she asked again, turning to Ranald.

"We were running pretty fast--and it is a hot day--and--" But the clear
gray-brown eyes were upon him, and Ranald found it difficult to go on.

"Oh, mother, you mustn't ask," cried Hughie; "I promised not to tell."

"Not to tell me, Hughie?" The surprise in the voice was quite too much
for Hughie.

"Oh, mother, we did not want to frighten you--and--I promised."

"Then you must keep your promise. Come away in, my boy. Come in,
Ranald."

It was her boy's first secret from her. Ranald saw the look of pain in
the sweet face, and could not endure it.

"It was just nothing, Mrs. Murray," he began.

"Did you promise, too, Ranald?"

"No, that I did not. And there is nothing much to tell, only Hughie fell
into the Deepole and the boys pulled him out!"

"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Hughie, "it was Ranald. He jumped right down
from the tree right into the water, and kept me up. You told yourself,
Ranald," he continued, delighted to be relieved of his promise; and on
he went to give his mother, in his most picturesque style, a description
of the whole scene, while Ranald stood looking miserable and ashamed.

"And Ranald was ashamed for me to tell you, and besides, he said you
wouldn't let me go to the Deepole again. But you will, won't you mother?
And you won't tell father, will you?"

The mother stood listening, with face growing whiter and whiter, till
he was done. Then she stooped down over the eager face for some moments,
whispering, "My darling, my darling," and then coming to Ranald she
held her hand on his shoulder for a moment, while she said, in a voice
bravely struggling to be calm, "God reward you, Ranald. God grant my boy
may always have so good and brave a friend when he needs."

And from that day Ranald's life was different, for he had bound to
him by a tie that nothing could ever break, a friend whose influence
followed him, and steadied and lifted him up to greatness, long after
the grave had