y. Everything except just who it was that pulled me
down. So many got hold of me that nobody knows exactly who gave _the_
pull, except myself and one other. He did not mean it; and I was cross
about playing with them; and the stone on the wall was loose or it would
not have happened. O dear! O dear! Uncle, do you think it a bad
accident?"

"Yes, my boy, a very bad accident."

"Do you think I shall die? I never thought of that," said Hugh. And he
raised himself a little, but was obliged to lie back again.

"No; I do not think you will die."

"Will they think so at home? Was that the reason they were sent to?"

"No: I have no doubt your mother will come to nurse you, and to comfort
you: but--"

"To comfort me? Why, Mr Tooke said the pain would soon be over, he
thought, and I should be asleep to-night."

"Yes; but though the pain may be over, it may leave you lame. That will
be a misfortune; and you will be glad of your mother to comfort you."

"Lame!" said the boy. Then, as he looked wistfully in his uncle's face,
he saw the truth.

"Oh! Uncle, they are going to cut off my leg."

"Not your leg, I hope, Hugh. You will not be quite so lame as that: but
I am afraid you must lose your foot."

"Was that what Mr Tooke meant by the surgeon's relieving me of my
pain?"

"Yes, it was."

"Then it will be before night. Is it quite certain, uncle?"

"Mr Annanby thinks so. Your foot is too much hurt ever to be cured.
Do you think you can bear it, Hugh?"

"Why, yes, I suppose so. So many people have. It is less than some of
the savages bear. What horrid things they do to their captives,--and
even to some of their own boys! And they bear it."

"Yes; but you are not a savage."

"But one may be as brave, without being a savage. Think of the martyrs
that were burnt, and some that were worse than burnt! And they bore
it."

Mr Shaw perceived that Hugh was either in much less pain now, or that
he forgot everything in a subject which always interested him extremely.
He told his uncle what he had read of the tortures inflicted by
savages, till his uncle, already a good deal agitated, was quite sick:
but he let him go on, hoping that the boy might think lightly in
comparison of what he himself had to undergo. This could not last long,
however. The wringing pain soon came back; and as Hugh cried, he said
he bore it so very badly, he did not know what his mother would say if
she saw him. She had trus