'What is his name? He shall come out to-night if he values his life,' said Sir John. Then he told one of Robert's men to get him Robert's black horse from the stables at the Hooded House.

6

Clutterbuck, the landlord of the Hop Pole,' had gone to unhook his long swing shutter to lay Robert on. Sir John bent over him, and whispered

'I feel what a life has been risked in saving mine. Try and forgive me, Robert Chamberlayne.'

Robert's white lips smiled, and he gave Sir John's hand a very genial, but cold, weak grasp, and said—

Let them fetch Wrigley. Let him go home first to tellmy mother.'

Wrigley, with whom Robert was always quarrelling, had already been called, and was standing close to him.

He was much touched by Robert's asking for him before anyone else, and hurried away without a word to fulfil his request. He knew the story he had to tell, that Mr. Robert had got hurt in saving Sir John Cunliff from a madman, who had tried to shoot him.

By the time he came back Sir John had gone off on Robert's horse for the surgeon, though not before he had helped to place him on the rude litter that had been prepared for him.

Robert did not lose consciousness: he saw, as one in a painful trance, the sights familiar from his childhoodthe pound, the stocks, the church, the little cottages, the crowds of ricks, and the hay-fields. He noticed all as they bore him slowly down the village. He felt that he understood now his anxiety to set all his affairs in order. It was a strange foretaste of what was coming. He was glad now to think of all that he had done that day.

The rick in the south yard looked mellow and fair in the moonlight; and it was pleasant to him, as his languid eyes rested on the soft undulating lines of raked hay in the fields, to think that the new stands were already for it, and it could all be managed so well without him. He was even pleased to think of the padlock and chain he had put on the gate of the three-acre field.

When the little procession stopped at Brockhurst, Robert's senses were a good deal confused by the lights, and by the figures standing in the hall.

He did not know whether they had carried him upstairs or not. He only knew that his mother and Hirell were standing or kneeling beside him, and that he tried to speak.

He did speak, but fainted away as soon as he had said to Hirell, with a smile

'You must let me sleep at home to-night.'

CHAPTER LI.

LEAVE-TAKINGS AT BROCKHURST.

MRS. CHAMBERLAYNE behaved very bravely the first night, but the shock of Robert's accident, and the exertion it caused her to make, proved too much for her. The next day she was too ill to sit up, and her great anxiety to be at her son's bedside made her worse.

When Mrs. Payne of the Hooded House heard that a nurse for Robert was being sought, she came over with her little bundle, and entreated with tears to be allowed to take her place in his room. Knowing nothing of her shortcomings from Robert, they allowed her to do so, and she proved a miracle of patience and devotion.

Hirell's journey was indefinitely postponed.

She could not leave Brockhurst while its master and mistress both lay ill, and unable to help each other.

It was a source of great bitterness to her that all this trouble had been brought upon the house through her, and she tried hard to do as much good and be as great a comfort to them as possible.

She managed all the house very cleverly and quietly. The doctor, and all who came to enquire after Robert, spoke of her with high praise.

One day a letter from her father enclosed the following from Cunliff:

'MY DEAR HIRELL,-Forgive me for troubling you at a time when you must unite with those around you in wishing you had never met me or heard my name. I wish, however, to give you a few particulars as to the end of this sad business, which has, I fear, lost me any lingering esteem you may have had left for me, and gained more than I dare think of for the brave

saviour of my unworthy life. I know that both of you will feel far more with the outraged tenant than the outraged landlord, and that you will be glad to hear I have procured his discharge, and sent him off to Australia, with means that will give him a fair chance of beginning a new life. I arrived at Ninfield prison with his discharge, just in time to prevent the poor fellow from committing suicide. At first he cared little for his release, but when I had talked to him, confessing my own negligence, and showed him what sad and unlookedfor results had come of his vengeful resolution; and when from my questions to him I discovered there was still one thing dear to him left in the world, and that he could benefit that thing by living and accepting my assistance, so much less than what I really owe him, he came round, listened to reason, yielded to reason. The 'one ewe lamb' proved to be a certain small deformed nephew, the superintendence of whose small outfit was the first thing that brought a gleam of interest on his uncle's face-whose small form he carried on board in his arms, and whose small hand waved me a friendly farewell as the vessel sailed away. Little peacemaker! May he live to outgrow bigger and better suits than the new corduroy ones that gave him so much pleasure!

'And now, Hirell, I must confess I have another motive for writing to you. I wish to tell you, as I have told your father in the letter that goes to him with this, that I shall seek you at his house on your return there, to receive your final answer. I claim such a meeting as due to me, even were my offences a thousand times greater than what they are. I entreat that you send me no answer to this, at least not that answer which, I fear, under present circumstances, would only be such a one as must destroy the hope that still lives in me, though perhaps it should long since have given up the ghost. But whilst I live, and whilst you live, Hirell, it never will. But even if you do send me such an answer I will not take it. No. I demand a meeting at your father's house. If you desire it to be a last one, you can make it so. Never will I molest you after that, if your heart remains hardened against me still.

If Robert Chamberlayne will accept my hearty regards, give him them; and remember, Hirell, it may some day be in your power to make us as warm friends as fate seems determined we should be. Yours faithfully, J. R. CUNLIFF.'

Exel found on reading her father simmer that he had remilf nest SE VOR as request, which 15 üntellet VIP & LATUL End many cre, and that

not set filem per the right they brought him the bar se kt. Mrs. Chamberlayne thought it On the afermo when Robert had

Come to them in the hyn and fund them with red eyes, THT ME Tel their beans tenth cther about him. Mrs. ramleri de k 11 He bowling, and with what atent bibe Biden had lived her, but she had also sadly acs passionate and despairing avowal of her love

she f she could never consent to

After that Mrs. Chamberlayne fully made up her mind that socner or later marry Sir John Cunliff. And when Robert lay she jealously guarded him from one gleam of false hope. It would be so bitter to take it from him, if it grew into him with his new strength.

No one ever knew what suffering that one glimpse of Robert's white face had stamped on Hirell's heart; or how for many days, as he lay between life and death, she was tormented by the horrible fear that he might never see his ripening harvest gathered in.

But Robert got better and began to regain his strength very soon, and as Mrs. Payne declared to eat like a wolf."

Three weeks had elapsed since his accident, when it was decided that Mr. Wrigley was to take Hirell home.

Mrs. Chamberlayne, who was now well enough to be carried every day into her son's room, saw that Robert certainly would not be content without Hirell's coming to bid him farewell. So when she was dressed for her journey, Hirell had to go and tap at the sick-room door; and was bidden to come in by Mrs. Chamberlayne, who was having a late breakfast at Robert's

Hirell was determined not to disturb him by the sight of her

own emotion. But when she saw him lying back on the bank of white pillows, his face almost as white, and thinner, and darker under the eyes than in his school-boy days, she felt something swelling in her throat that made her afraid to speak, as she took his hand, and returned his smile of greeting. Her eyes were full of tears, which ran over when Robert said,

"They will all miss you sadly, Hirie.'

That nearly made her burst out with passionate reproaches on herself, for ever having come and brought such misfortune upon them, but she controlled herself and only said,

Oh, Robert, hush! Forgive me, but don't praise me, after all I have brought on you. Dear Robert, 1 cannot bear that!' She sat down pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, and trying to grow calm.

Will your father let me come down to Bod Elian, when I get out of Mrs. Payne's snuffy hands?' asked Robert; 'I shall need mountain air then if ever anyone did.'

'Oh yes, please, Robert, we shall all be so glad.'

'Well, I shall certainly come. How strange, if I am kept here till just about the same time that I was down last year!

At that moment Susan knocked at the door, and told them Mr. Wrigley said the time was up, and was the young lady ready?

Hirell rose hastily, once more shook hands with Robert, then knelt down by Mrs. Chamberlayne, and the two clung to each other like mother and daughter.

When Hirell rose and was moving towards the door, she stood still and looked round, and saw that Robert had turned his face upon his arm. The morning sunshine was on his hand that used to be so brown, that now was white and thin. Her eyes followed the sunshine from it to the rich fields without, and a thrill went through her as she thought, what if that hand should never again be busy there with sickle or seed?

Mrs. Chamberlayne looked at her as if she would bid her to go without taking more notice of the invalid, but Hirell with an air of gentle defiance stood still a moment, then walked back to the bedside with something of the old sweet saintly gravity.

May the Lord bless you and restore you, Robert!' she said solemnly, and kissed him.

She spoke the prayer while her lips were touching his forehead, so that the kiss was most holy, the prayer most sweet.