Guy smiled, and was soon in his mother's arms, cared for, and happy; his wet garments changed, his heart uniting with hers in deep and warm thanksgiving for the help and safety vouchsafed.
"Well, mother, is he better? Does the doctor give hope?" he anxiously asked, as she came for the last time, before leaving him to sleep, with the report from Mr. Hazelwood's room.
Another gentle step accompanied hers this time, and Mrs. Hazelwood, pale and worn, indeed, but her fair face expressive of tenderest interest, bent down and pressed a fond motherly kiss upon his brow.
"He is conscious, dear Guy. The doctor says that with care and quiet, he will recover; he has asked for you. To-morrow, please God, he will see you."
"Oh, tell him I'm all right," cried Guy, the colour rushing to his cheeks, "and I hope he will soon be the same."
The mothers smiled through their tears and left him.
Evelyn had sat in an agony of grief until she knew that her father was restored to consciousness and had spoken collectedly. Then she went to seek Maude, and hear of Guy.
"I don't think my father will ever call him 'poor lad' again," she thought within herself, with a sensation of considerable triumph.
And under the shadow of this strange interruption to the even tenor of their lives, the inhabitants of the Moat and the village went to rest at the end of that eventful day.
It was some time ere the Squire was permitted to leave his room, and in the matter of personal restraint, such a patient manifested something of the temper of a rebellious baby. He would have held perpetual levée, received everybody, and talked about everything, but for the watchful care of his body-guard, and the unanswerable arguments of his chamberlain. But at last, his term of imprisonment ceased, and he was again to assume his wonted place and duties.