"What news did they bring?"
"I—I did not dare to ask."
A look of deep compassion broke into those sunken eyes, and, turning on his pillow, the old man murmured in a painful whisper:
"Poor child! Poor child!"
Then Ruth fell to kissing his great hand again, murmuring:
"Oh, father! you are so good to me—so good!"
"I am weak—so weak," he answered, as if excusing something to himself. "But how could he—Well, well, when I am stronger—when I am stronger."
The cottage was small, and the jar of an opening door could be felt through the whole little building. Some one was trying at the latch then, and a step was heard in the passage.