will be quite safe."

With that he was up like a cat, clinging here, springing there, never
pausing, never seeming to take his eyes from the little white figure,
which had now reached the summit of the steep-pitched roof. Hildegarde
gave one glance at the child, and saw him standing with outstretched
arms on the ridge-pole itself. His voice came down, clear and calm.

"I am ready, dear Bellerophon! We will fly together now, down, down,--"

The girl covered her face, and prayed. It was a breath of time, it was
eternity, before Roger's voice came down to her, strong and cheerful.

"We will go down together, Hughie. I was up here, too, and I will take
you down, because you will be more comfortable that way. Put your arms
round my neck, so! Hold on tight--that's right! Now, down we go!"

Hildegarde stood still in the snow, her hands still clutching the
window-sill. She seemed incapable of speech or motion; could only listen
to the quiet, steady voice, as it soothed the now awake and frightened
child.

"Why, I suppose you went up to get a ball, or something that had been
thrown up there. Eh? No? Something about Bellerophon? Where is he? Well,
he may be in the house, laddie. We'll go in and see, anyhow. Your
Beloved is there, you know, and she will be--_Hildegarde_!"

"Yes, Roger!" said Hildegarde, faintly.

"I told you to go into the house!"

"Yes, Roger; I am going!" And then Hildegarde sank down in a little
white heap at Roger's feet, and knew nothing more.

CHAPTER XV.

AT LAST.

HILDEGARDE was sitting by Hugh's bedside. He had been laid in her bed
that night; how long ago was it? She hardly knew,--and was still too ill
to be moved. A concussion of the brain, the doctor said, the result of
his fall on the ice. There was danger of brain fever, but it might be
averted. Absolute quiet for a few days, and the trouble might pass off
without any serious developments. Meantime, a shaded room, plenty of
ice, no noise, and as little change of faces around him as might
be,--they would hope for the best.

Hildegarde had hardly left his side, save when Auntie came in to watch
through the night, or her mother took her place for the short time that
her strength allowed. Mrs. Grahame was far from strong, and was not
allowed to take charge of the nursing, as she would so gladly have
done. Colonel Ferrers hung about the house all day, like a man
distracted; and it took all Mrs. Grahame's tact, and all his brother's