A second later he uttered my name in a strange, awed tone, and I entered hesitatingly. Little Zillah apparently lay sleeping in her crib, and Mrs. Yocomb was kneeling by her bedside.
"Mother!" said Reuben, in a loud whisper.
She did not answer.
He knelt beside her, put his arm around her, and said, close to her ear, "Mother! why don't you speak to me?" She made no response, and I saw that she leaned so heavily forward on the bed as to indicate utter unconsciousness.
The boy sprang up, and gazed at me with wild questioning in his eyes.
"Reuben!" I said quickly, "she's only stunned by the lightning. Will you prove yourself a man, and help me in what must be done? Life may depend upon it."
"Yes," eagerly.
"Then help me lift your mother on the bed; strong and gentle, now—that's it."
I put my hand over her heart.
"She is not dead," I exclaimed joyously; "only stunned. Let us go to the attic again, for we must keep shelter this wild night."