he house in which Mark lay, slowly regaining consciousness.

The meeting between the parents and the son whom they had deemed lost
to them was not demonstrative; but none of them, nor of those who saw
it, will ever forget the scene.

A solemn "Thank God!" and "My boy! my darling boy!" were all that was
heard; and then Mark was lifted gently into the wagon, and it was
driven slowly and carefully home.

An hour after he was tucked into his own bed Mark was in a raging
fever, and screaming, "The star! the star! Please let me see it a
little longer." And it was many a day before he again left the house,
and again breathed the fresh air out-of-doors.

CHAPTER XVII.

TWO LETTERS AND A JOURNEY.

It was late in April before Mark rose from the bed on which for weeks
he had tossed and raved in the delirium of fever. He had raved of the
horrible darkness and the cold water, and begged that the star should
not be taken away. One evening he woke from a heavy, death-like sleep
in which he had lain for hours, and in a voice so weak that it was
almost a whisper, called "Mother."

"Here I am, dear"; and the figure which had been almost constantly
beside him during the long struggle, bent over and kissed him gently.

"I ain't dead, am I, mother?" he whispered.

"No, dear, you are alive, and with God's help are going to get well and
strong again. But don't try to talk now; wait until you are stronger."

For several days the boy lay sleeping, or with eyes wide open watching
those about him, but feeling so weak and tired that even to think was
an effort. Still, the fever had left him, and from the day he called
"Mother" he gradually grew stronger, until finally he could sit up in
bed. Next he was moved to a rocking-chair by the window, and at last he
was carried into the sitting-room and laid on the lounge--the same
lounge on which Frank had lain, months before, when he told them what a
wicked boy he had been.

Now the same Frank, but yet an entirely different Frank, sat beside
him, and held his hand, and looked lovingly down into his face. Each of
them had saved the other's life, and their love for each other was
greater than that of brothers. Mark had been told of how Frank had gone
down into the "sink hole" after him, and stayed there in the cold,
rushing water while he was drawn to the top, but he could remember
nothing of it. He only remembered the star, and of praying that he
might live to see the sunlight.

How