As if in answer to his call his father stood before him.
"So this is the way you attend to your lessons, you young rascal!" began Mr. Crawson seizing hold of his boy, his voice hoarse with passion, when seeing the unconscious form at the bottom of the boat, he dropped his hold exclaiming, "What is this? Why the child is dead!"
Daniel's face blanched with horror; and he covered his eyes to shut out the sight.
"Now," said Mr. Crawson speaking each word slowly that it might have full effect, "Tell me the whole truth, or I'll carry you to prison, and give you up to the gallows."
"Yes," he said to himself; "I will, if it kills me."
"I —I didn't think 'twould hurt him much. He wanted half the lilies; and I got angry, and struck him with the oar."
Not one word in reply. Mr. Crawson pulled the boat farther up on the sand, stooped down, and raised the senseless child in his arms.
There was a low moan at which Dan was so relieved that he burst into a loud cry.
"Keep quiet, will you?" said his father, for the moment forgetting his anger. "Perhaps he isn't hurt so much as I thought. He's in a dead swoon, and he oughter be got home."
"I'll run and call somebody."