said Hugh, composedly.

The servant went out hurriedly.

Paul returned to the middle of the room.

"I'll go myself," he said, and plucked his hat from the settle, but Mrs.
Ritson rose to prevent him.

"No, no, Paul," she said in a tremulous voice, "you must never leave his
side."

Paul glanced at his brother with a perplexed look. The calmness of
Hugh's manner disturbed him.

The servant reappeared.

"Natt is not in the stable, sir."

Paul's face was growing crimson. Mrs. Ritson turned to Hugh.

"Hugh, my dear son, do you go for the lawyer."

A faint smile that lurked at the corners of Hugh's mouth gave way to a
look of injury.

"Mother, my place, also, is here. How can you ask me to leave my
father's side at a moment like this?"

Greta had been looking fixedly at Hugh.

"I'll go," she said, resolutely.

"Impossible," said Paul. "It is now dark--the roads are wet and lonely."

"I'll go, nevertheless," said Greta, firmly.

"God bless you, my darling, and love you and keep you forever!" said
Paul. Wrapping a cloak about her shoulders, he whispered: "My brave
girl--that's the stuff of which an English woman may be made."

He opened the door and walked out with her across the court-yard. The
night was now clear and calm; the stars burned; the trees whispered; the
distant ghylls, swollen by the rain, roared loud through the thin air; a
bird on the bough of a fir-tree whistled and chirped. The storm was
gone; only its wreckage lay in the still room within.

"A safe journey to you, dear girl, and a speedy return," whispered Paul,
and in another moment Greta had vanished in the dark.

When he returned to the hall, his brother was passing into the room
where the sick man lay. Paul was about to follow when his mother, who
was walking aimlessly to and fro in yet more violent agitation than
before, called on him to remain. He turned about and stepped up to her,
observing as he did so that Hugh had paused on the threshold, and was
regarding them with a steadfast look.

Mrs. Ritson took Paul's hand with a nervous grasp. Her eyes, that bore
the marks of recent tears, had the light of wild excitement.

"God be praised that he is conscious at last!" she said.

Paul shook his head as if in censure of his mother's feelings.

"Let him die in peace," he said; "let his soul pass quietly to its rest.
Don't vex it now with thoughts of the cares it leaves behind."

Mrs. Ritson let go his hand, and dropped into a ch