And lo! at that Robert's heart was melted. He had often heard, and often read, that "God is Love," but never before had he realised that blessed truth, and with the rush of emotion that the realisation called forth, he was filled with sorrow and repentance. Ah! If only he had thought against Whom he was sinning, he would never have done it, for he could never have borne to grieve so loving and tender a Father, and he lingered fondly on the last word, as he said it to himself. Confess his wickedness to his mother? Yes, he could now. And with the determination to go to her at once, he rose from his bed and tried to dress. At first it seemed that to do this was beyond his power, and whether he finally succeeded or not he did not know, for a great darkness fell upon him, and he remembered nothing more.
* * * * *
It was his mother who sat by his bed, with her cool hand on his forehead, and—why, yes, the sunlight was shining into his room.
"Do you know me, Robert?"
"Yes, mother. Why am I here? Am I ill?"
"Yes, dear, but we hope you'll soon be well again. You must do just as you are told, and then perhaps in a few days you will be able to get up and go downstairs again."
"Have I been ill long?"
"You have been unconscious since last night, and it is now about two o'clock in the afternoon. But you must not talk any more, Robert dear. The quieter you keep yourself, the sooner you will be better. Lie still, and try to sleep."
He lay still, but he could not sleep, and gradually the void and blank in his mind became filled with memories. First of all, he recollected that his father was away; then the last evening he had spent at home returned to him, with the solemn trust which his father had reposed in his children, and the promise they had each and all given him. He remembered how he had listened with a wretched sense of shame and unworthiness, for on that very day, and on two or three previous occasions, he had gone, not merely directly against his parents' wish, but against their direct command, that he should never learn to skate.
Little by little, after that, he recalled all that had taken place. Jack's persuasions; his weak resistance and speedy surrender; the journey to Hendon; his forgetfulness of everything except the enjoyment and exhilaration of the exercise; his determination to make the most of the last few minutes; the race in which he had first led, then dropped behind, and then again headed; the cries he had mistaken; the awful, horrible sensation of feeling himself sink beneath the water; his return to consciousness, and all that had ensued.