Part 2 (1/2)

”Nothing extra-ordinary--nothing.” Then he brought his face close to the boy's mouth, closer and closer.

The doctor sank back in his chair. His shrewd eyes darted from boy to father, then to the mother.

”Do not be alarmed,” he said to Mrs. Leighton; ”the lad is pheesically sound. He will awake anon.” The doctor arose, and stretched his arms.

”Eh, but I've had a hard day. Will ye be sae gude as to give me a gla.s.s of wine, Mistress Leighton?”

Ann started as though from a trance.

”Wine, Doctor?” she stammered. ”I'm sorry. We have no wine in the house.”

”Not even a drop of whisky?”

Ann shook her head.

”Nae whisky in the medicine-chest, nae cooking sherry in the pantry?

Weel, weel, I must be gaeing.” And without a look at Ann's rising color or the Reverend Orme's twitching face the doctor was gone.

The Reverend Orme fixed his eyes upon his wife.

”When the boy awakes,” he said, ”not a word to him. Send him to my study.” Ann nodded. As the door closed, she fell upon her knees beside the bed.

An hour later the study door opened. Shenton entered. His father was seated, his nervous hands gripping the arms of his chair. On the desk beside him lay a thin cane. He motioned to his son to stand before him.

”My boy,” he said, ”tell me each thing you have done to-day.”

There was a slight pause.

”I have forgotten what I did to-day,” answered Shenton, his eyes fixed on his father's face.

”That is a falsehood,” breathed Leighton, tensely, ”I am going to thrash you until you remember.”

Leighton saw his boy's frail body shrink, he saw a flush leap to his cheeks and fade, leaving them dead-white again. Then he looked into his son's eyes, and the hand with which he was groping for the cane stopped, poised in air. In those eyes there was something that no man could thrash. Scorn, anguish, pride, the knowledge of ages, gazed out from a child's eyes upon Leighton, and struck terror to his soul. His boy's frail body was the abiding-place of a power that laughed at the strength of man's hands.

”My boy, O, my boy!” groaned Leighton.

”Father!” cried Shenton, with the cry of a bursting heart, and hurled himself into his father's arms.

CHAPTER V

The next day was the first of the long vacation, and with it came an addition to the Leighton household. Mammy was given a temporary helper, a shrewd little maid, with a head thirty years old on shoulders of twelve. Lalia was her name. The Reverend Orme had chosen her from among his charity pupils. He himself gave her his instructions--never to leave Shenton except to run and report the moment he escaped from her charge.

Lalia was accepted without suspicion by the children not as a nurse, but as a playmate. Weeks pa.s.sed. The four played together with a greater harmony than the three had ever attained. Day after day the Reverend Orme sat waiting in his study and brooding. The dreaded call never came.

He began to distrust his messenger.

Then one stifling afternoon as he sat dozing in his chair a sharp rap on the study door awakened him with a start.