Sir Richard's grandson

by Eleanora H. Stooke

"Oh, Uncle Theophilus, will he die?" breathed Dick with a painful sob. "Oh, I hope God won't let him die!"

"I hope not!" was the fervent reply.

For a few minutes there was silence, save for the ticking of the tall clock. Dick raised his eyes to its face, and watched the ship in full sail rocking to and fro; then Sir Richard remarked that as he could do no good there, he should go home. He was profuse in his thanks to the doctor, who saw him into his carriage, and said he would send early in the morning for news of Lionel, adding that he hoped Dick would come to the Manor House on the morrow, and try to comfort Ruth, who was in terrible distress about her brother.

As the carriage disappeared from sight, a slouching figure, followed by a lurcher, approached the doctor and Dick, and requested to know if the young gentleman was dead.

"No, no," Dr. Warren replied, "he is badly hurt, but I have hopes of his recovery. Why, it was you who found him, was it not?"

Bill Coysh—for it was he—nodded assent, and was turning away, when the doctor asked him if he had any idea how the accident happened. At first he declared he knew nothing about it; but, seeing he was not believed, he wavered in his statement, and finally acknowledged that he had been with Lionel when he was shot.

After his quarrel with Dick, Lionel had slipped out of the house, and returning a little later, had fetched the blunderbuss and ammunition, armed with which he had gone off to the woods in search of a suitable place for putting his plans into execution. He had found a secluded spot in a fir plantation, situated at the top of the hill above the village, where he had met Bill Coysh, and there had proceeded to load the blunderbuss according to his grandfather's directions; after which he had tied the gun securely to a tree with a stout piece of rope, and making a squib of gunpowder, had lit it and applied it to the touch-hole, so firing the charge.

"'Twas exactly like letting off a cannon," Bill Coysh said; "I never heard such a report from any gun before. Master Compton fired it several times, and then he agreed to let me do it. I shall never forget it, never! He went a little distance away to hear what the sound was like further off; and I suppose I took longer than he expected, and he was coming to see what I was doing, for just as I'd lit the squib, he came right in a line with the gun, and the next thing I knew was he'd been shot, and was lying groaning, looking like death. It wasn't my fault! I wouldn't have injured him for anything! I ran to him, and asked him if he was hurt, but he didn't answer, and then I saw he'd fainted, and I went to get help. There, I've told the truth, doctor, and if I'm had up for murder—" He broke off, shuddering at the thought, then added:— "If Master Compton lives, he'll tell you the same tale!"

There was a genuine ring of truth in Bill Coysh's voice which Dr. Warren was quick to notice. Dick enquired what had become of the blunderbuss, and was told it was still attached to the tree in the fir plantation. It was found there the next day by the village policeman, who had serious thoughts whether he ought not to arrest Bill Coysh. But by that time Lionel had recovered consciousness, and was able to say that Bill had told the truth about his accident; no one was to blame but himself, he solemnly declared. He confessed everything to his mother, the sight of her pale tear-stained face awakening remorse and repentance in his wayward heart; needless to say he had no difficulty in obtaining her forgiveness.