none in Mr. Simlins' economy, and this was
a proverbial expression well known in the household.

"O Mr. Simlins! Mr. Simlins!" cried the hysterical one, with a shudder,
"there's a murdered man at the front door!--and I did shut it, but he
might come round this way!"

"You be hanged! and shut up!"--was Mr. Simlins' remark in answer to
this statement; and flinging down his stick on the kitchen floor with a
rattle, he strode to the front door and opened it, having had the
precaution to take a candle with him.

There was certainly a figure there, not standing, but sitting on the
bench in an attitude that spoke of faintness; and of all the men in
Pattaquasset, Mr. Simlins was perhaps most surprised to see that it was
Mr. Linden. A white handkerchief ineffectually bound round his arm, but
served to shew why he had tried to secure it there.

Mr. Simlins surveyed it all with his candle in about three seconds, and
then said hoarsely, "What's this? Can you speak to me?"

But the power for that was gone, though a little parting of the lips
spoke the intent. Mr. Simlins set down his candle and went back to the
kitchen.

"Get some brandy, you fools!" said he. "Here's a friend o' mine got
faint for want of his supper--been too long out shootin'. Fetch a glass
of water here too! Jenny Lowndes, you go tell Jem Waters that 'ere
plaguey black heifer has got out of the yard. You send him to me, and
if you spile the frolic with your story I'll have nothing more to do
with you, I give you my word!"

Mr. Simlins was obeyed. He himself went back with the water and the
brandy, which he tenderly applied to Mr. Linden's forehead and lips,
and seeing the handkerchief's ineffectual disposition had taken it off
and bound it on tight by the time Jem Waters, one of his farm hands,
had reached the porch. The two then taking the sufferer in their arms
carried him into the house and into Mr. Simlins' room, which was on the
first floor, where they laid him on the bed. Jem Waters was then
despatched for Dr. Harrison, with orders to hold his tongue and not say
what he was sent for. And Jem Waters, the swiftest runner in
Pattaquasset, set off and ran every step of the way, till the doctor
was found.

The cold applications, the resting posture, seemed to do their work,
and Mr. Simlins was rewarded with a smile from both eyes and lips. He
did not speak again however till he had seen a spoonful of brandy enter
the lips; then with a grave concern tha