t every word the convict had
spoken must be the truth.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

NIC TAKES THE HELM.

"Bad news," said the doctor, about a couple of months' shepherding and
track riding later, as he held a letter out to his wife before coming to
where a couple of men were carefully rubbing down the heated horses they
had hitched up to the fence kept for the purpose.

"Come in, my lads," he said. "I'll have your horses seen to. They must
have a couple of hours' rest. There'll be a meal ready for you
directly."

"What is it, mother?" said Janet and Hilda; and Nic looked at her
eagerly.

"It is bad news indeed," said Mrs Braydon. "The letter is from Lady
O'Hara, who is in the deepest distress about Sir John. She says he is
dying, and that there is only one man in the colony she believes able to
cure him."

"Father!" cried Hilda, flushing.

"Yes, my dear; and she begs that he will come to her in her great
distress. Here he is."

For the doctor, after showing the men round to the stable, where they
preferred to attend to their horses themselves, re-entered the room.

"Well, my dear, what do you think? Lady O'Hara forgets that I have not
practised for so long."

"Lady O'Hara knows that she has spoken the truth," said Mrs Braydon
proudly.

"Then you wish me to go?"

"No," said Mrs Braydon sadly; "but it is a duty you must fulfil."

"It means going and leaving you all in a couple of hours' time," said
the doctor.

"Yes, you must go at once," sighed Mrs Braydon.

"Yes, I must go," said the doctor. "Perhaps I can save him." Then
cheerfully, "Now, Nic, my boy, you must step into my shoes and play the
man. I leave the Bluff and all that is dear in your charge. You manage
old Samson and Brookes better than I do, and as for Leatherhead he has
become twice the man he was since you have been here."

Nic flushed a little, for the secret pricked him.

"And I am glad to see, my lad, that you keep him in his place with a
tight rein. I was afraid at first, and Brookes dropped a few unpleasant
hints about the way he said that you were making friends with him. I am
glad to see, however, that all this is at an end."

"But, father--" began Nic, whose conscience was uneasy.

"No, no: I don't want to hear any explanation. You will do your best, I
know. Now help me to pack my saddle-bags, all of you. See to the gun
and ammunition, Nic; hobbles for the horse, and what is necessary.
Hilda, my dear, haul t