The man of starch bent down till his face was very near to Jeff. His voice was a little husky:
"I believe you now, my little lad. I could never doubt you again; you have behaved like a hero!"
Then Jeff half raised himself on his pillows, and the dim morning light revealed an elastic [Transcriber's note: ecstatic?] smile on his pale face.
"Oh, say that again. I do want to be a hero before mother comes."
He fell back once more, murmuring,
"I am so tired and sleepy, and so happy now. Uncle Hugh, will you hear me say my prayers? After I had been unhappy mother always heard me say my prayers. And I think—perhaps I have cheated God lately—since you punished me, for I would not say 'forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.' I did not forgive you or Brian, and I could not say it. Now I can, and it will be all right. God will understand."
Soon after Jeff fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. He slept far into a bright morning, and when the doctor came he pronounced his little patient as convalescent.
"You may get up to-morrow, and we shall have you out with the otter hounds on Saturday, my little man," he said with a kind smile.
Jeff's eyes sought Mr. Colquhoun's face with an eager look of inquiry.
"We will see, Jeff"—he called him Jeff for the first time—"but you must make haste and get well."