"Could I not see her for a moment?" Trove inquired.
"No."
"Is she very sick?"
"Very."
Darrel came close to Roberts. He looked sternly at the young man.
"Boy," said he, with great dignity, his long forefinger raised, "within a day ye shall be clothed with shame."
"They were strange words," Trove thought, as they walked away in silence; and when they had come to the little shop it was growing dusk.
"What have I done to bring this upon me and my friends?" said
Trove, sinking into a chair.
"It is what I have done," said Darrel; "an' now I take the mantle o' thy shame. Rise, boy, an' hold up thy head."
The old man stood erect by the side of the young man.