CHAPTER IX.
A CHANGE IN THE LIGHTHOUSE.
It seemed a long time before my grandfather came back, and then he only said in a low voice, 'You can bring him now, my lads; she knows about it now.'
And so the mournful little procession moved on, through the field and garden and court, to the Millars' house, my grandfather and I following.
I shall never forget that night, nor the strange, solemn feeling I had then.
Mrs. Millar was very ill; the shock had been too much for her. The men went back in the boat to bring a doctor to the island to see her, and the doctor sent them back again to bring a nurse. He said he was afraid she would have an attack of brain-fever, and he thought her very ill indeed.
My grandfather and I sat in the Millars' house all night, for the nurse did not arrive until early in the morning. The six children were fast asleep in their little beds. I went to look at them once, to see if my little Timpey was all right; she was lying in little Polly's bed, their tiny hands fast clasped together as they slept. The tears came fast into my eyes, as I thought that they both had lost a father, and yet neither of them knew anything of their loss!
When the nurse arrived, my grandfather and I went home But we could not sleep; we lighted the kitchen fire, and sat over it in silence for a long time.
Then my grandfather said: 'Alick, my lad, it has given me such a turn as I haven't had for many a day. It might have been me, Alick; it might just as well have been me!'