ton, a
thing which his sister would not have dared to propose. But there was
not much to be done, the doctor decided that the bullet was where the
attempt at extraction would be fatal, and that the only hope of even
partial recovery was in perfect stillness and silence--and this Patience
could promise to ensure as far as in her lay. Instructions on dressing
the wound were given to her, and she was to send in to the barber's shop
if ointment or other appliances were needed. This was all that she was
to expect, and more indeed than she had thought feasible; for folks of
their condition were sick and got well, lived or died without the aid of
practitioners above the skill of Goody Grace. However, he gave her very
little hope, though he would not pronounce that her brother was dying. A
few days would decide, and quiet was the only chance.

Scarcely however were the visitors gone, and Stead left to what rest
pain would allow him after being handled by the surgeon, when a sound of
sobbing was heard outside. "Oh! oh! I'm afraid to go in! Ben! Oh! tell
me, is he not dead? I'm the most miserable maid in the world if he is."

"He's alive, small thanks to you," responded Ben, who had somehow
arrived at a knowledge of the facts, while Rusha, who was milking,
buried her head in Daisy's side, and would not even look at her.
Patience felt in utter despair, and longed to misunderstand Stead's
signs to her to open the door. She tried to impress the need of quiet,
but Emlyn darted in, her hood pushed back, her hair flying, her dress
disordered, looking half wild, and dropping on the floor, she crouched
there with clasped hands, crying "Oh! oh! he looks like death. He'll die
and I'm the most--"

"If you make all that noise and tumult he will," said Patience, who
could bear no more. "Are you come here to finish what you have done? Do
go away."

"Oh! but I must tell you! They said it was for the King, and that he had
the right. Yes they did, and they swore that they would hurt no one."

Stead looked to a certain extent pleased, but Patience broke out, "As if
you did not know he would rather die than give up his trust."

"I thought he would never know--"

"Robber!" said Patience. "Go! You have done harm enough already."

"But I must tell you," persisted Emlyn. "I used to see Dick Glass among
Lord Goring's troopers, and he is from our parts, and he has been with
Prince Rupert. There was a plot, I know there is, and both the Master
Ay