He turned his eyes to her, but did not speak. He had heard her voice but not her question, and she did not repeat it, but came and sat down on a low stool at his feet.
“Are you very tired, papa?” she asked at last.
“Not more so than usual. Indeed, I have hardly thought of it to-night, or of the cold and the sleet and the long drive, that have moved my little girl’s compassion. But it is pleasant to be safe home again, and to find all well.”
“But what kept you so long, papa?” said Jem, coming in with the lantern in his hand. “Was it Don’s fault? Didn’t he do his duty, poor old Don?”
“No. I was sent for to see Timothy Bent. That was what detained me so long.”
“Poor old Tim!” said Violet, softly.
“‘Poor old Tim’ no longer, Violet, my child. It is well with Timothy Bent now, beyond all fear.”
“Has he gone, papa?”
“Yes, he is safe home at last. The long struggle is over, and he has gotten the victory.”
The boys looked at one another, thinking of the words that had been spoken to them a little while ago.