stration, wasted by a low fever which at one time seemed as
if it would carry him off. It was not until the middle of October that
matters took a turn, and he began slowly to mend. For the last three
weeks his mother had been by his bedside. For some time Mr. Atherton in
his letters had made light of the wound, but when the lad's condition
became very serious he had written to Mrs. Renshaw saying that he
thought she had better come herself to help in the nursing, as Wilfrid
was now suffering from a sharp attack of fever brought on by his
hardships.

Mrs. Renshaw, on her arrival, was dismayed at the state in which she
found her son. She agreed, however, that it was best not to alarm them
in her letters home. The events on the attack of the settlement had much
shaken Mr. Renshaw, and he was, when she left him, in a nervous and
excited state. She saw that Wilfrid would need every moment of her time,
and that were her husband to come it would probably do him harm and
seriously interfere with her own usefulness. He was, when she left, on
the point of returning to the farm with Marion, as there had been no
further renewal of troubles in the settlement.

It had been arranged that the two Allens should take up their residence
at The Glade, and that four men belonging to a small force that had
been raised among the friendly natives should also be stationed there.
This would, it was thought, render it quite safe against sudden attack.
Mr. Renshaw was looking eagerly forward to being at home again, and his
wife thought that the necessity of superintending the operations at the
farm would soothe his nerves and restore him to health. She, therefore,
in her letters made the best of things, although admitting that Wilfrid
was prostrated by a sort of low fever, and needed care and nursing.

At the end of another fortnight Wilfrid was enabled to sit up and take
an interest in what was going on around him. The house was the property
of a settler named Sampson, and had been erected by a predecessor of the
farmer; it was a good deal larger than he required, though its capacity
was now taxed to the utmost by the addition of three lodgers to his
family.

"How are things going on, Mr. Atherton?" Wilfrid asked one day when his
mother was not present.

"People here seem to think that they are going on very well, Wilfrid."

"But you do not think so, Mr. Atherton?" the lad asked, struck by the
dry tone in which the answer was given.

"No,