ing boy! whom I do love so; and not to be able to help you! What
shall I do--what shall I do!"

With a start, he cried, "Where's the horse!"

"The horse?"

"The old dad 'll be asking for the horse to-morrow."

"I saw a horse, my dear, afore I turned to my prayers at my bedside,
coming down the street without his rider. He came like a rumble
of deafness in my ears. Oh, my boy, I thought, Is it Robert's
horse?--knowing you've got enemies, as there's no brave man has not got
'em--which is our only hope in the God of heaven!"

"Mother, punch my ribs."

He stretched himself flat for the operation, and shut his mouth.

"Hard, mother!--and quick!--I can't hold out long."

"Oh! Robert," moaned the petrified woman "strike you?"

"Straight in the ribs. Shut your fist and do it--quick."

"My dear!--my boy!--I haven't the heart to do it!"

"Ah!" Robert's chest dropped in; but tightening his muscles again, he
said, "now do it--do it!"

"Oh! a poke at a poor fire puts it out, dear. And make a murderess of
me, you call mother! Oh! as I love the name, I'll obey you, Robert.
But!--there!"

"Harder, mother."

"There!--goodness forgive me!"

"Hard as you can--all's right."

"There!--and there!--oh!--mercy!"

"Press in at my stomach."

She nerved herself to do his bidding, and, following his orders, took
his head in her hands, and felt about it. The anguish of the touch wrung
a stifled scream from him, at which she screamed responsive. He laughed,
while twisting with the pain.

"You cruel boy, to laugh at your mother," she said, delighted by the
sound of safety in that sweet human laughter. "Hey! don't ye shake
your brain; it ought to lie quiet. And here's the spot of the wicked
blow--and him in love--as I know he is! What would she say if she saw
him now? But an old woman's the best nurse--ne'er a doubt of it."

She felt him heavy on her arm, and knew that he had fainted. Quelling
her first impulse to scream, she dropped him gently on the pillow, and
rapped to rouse up her maid.

The two soon produced a fire and hot water, bandages, vinegar in a
basin, and every crude appliance that could be thought of, the maid
followed her mistress's directions with a consoling awe, for Mrs. Boulby
had told her no more than that a man was hurt.

"I do hope, if it's anybody, it's that ther' Moody," said the maid.

"A pretty sort of a Christian you think yourself, I dare say," Mrs.
Boulby replied.

"Christian or not, one ca