"They said you would think more of Jack than of me," Theodore broke in, "but I did not care. I was never jealous of Jack. I—I don't mind if you do like him best. He's better than me."
"Oh, Theodore!" Mr. Barton exclaimed, greatly shocked, "you distress me beyond measure. Jack is a gentle, winning little fellow, but you are my own son—the dearest object I possess. Come, confide in me the cause of your grief. What is it that is weighing upon your mind?"
Thus encouraged, Theodore gave an excited account of the way in which he had overcome Jack's scruples, and induced him to visit the Hermit's Cave. He did not spare himself, but took the entire blame upon his own shoulders, at the same time begging his father to forgive him, and imploring him to assure his stepmother that Jack was not in fault.
"It was all my doing," he said in conclusion, looking wistfully up into Mr. Barton's grave face. "I know I'm a great worry and trouble—Jane says so often, but I never before tried to make Jack do anything wrong."
"And I trust you never will again," his father returned, seriously. "God, in His infinite mercy, saved you both from a horrible death to-night, for if you had fallen into the bog—but there, I will not contemplate that. Thank God, I have you still!"
All through the night Mr. Barton sat by the bedside, and, now that Theodore had made his confession, his father's presence disturbed him no longer, but rather gave him a sense of security, for presently he fell asleep. His was an uneasy slumber, however, with disturbed dreams, for he cried out constantly that Jack was lost, and started up in bed on several occasions, shaking with fright, to be reassured by his father's voice that all was well.
It was with a sense of relief that Mr. Barton at length saw through the tiny window of the caravan that the dawn of another day was breaking, and knew that his vigil was nearly at an end.
[CHAPTER XIX.]
EXPLANATIONS AND FORGIVENESS.
WORN out with fatigue as little Jack was, it was small wonder he slept soundly the night following his harrowing experiences on the moor, in spite of his deep concern about his stepbrother. He was awakened by the sound of voices, and opened his eyes to see Jane standing by his bedside with a tray containing his breakfast in her hands, and his mother bending over him. With awakening thought came remembrance of last night's adventures; and he started up in bed, looking eagerly around for Theodore, an expression of distress and sorrow on his countenance.