"Let me try," said his friend. "You stay out here."
After some moments the Convener returned and handed Shock a paper on which he had written: "God keep you, mother dear. My heart's love to you. Shall I come?"
"Will that do?" he asked.
"Yes, yes; thank you. That is good."
"Now," said the Convener, when they had reached the house, "you must rest."
"I am not tired," said Shock, as if in surprise.
"My dear fellow, you are half dead."
"No, I am quite right, and besides, there's Ike. I ought to look after Ike."
"Don't you worry about Ike," said the Convener. "He's able to look after himself; besides I'll look him up when I get you to sleep. Come now," and he led him into the tiny bedroom. "You get into bed; I'll bring you a cup of tea and you can sleep. No one will disturb you, and, I'll wake you at the right time, never fear."
"I don't think I am sleepy," said Shock; but when in a few minutes his friend came back with his cup of tea he found Shock in a sleep so profound that he had not the heart to wake him. "Poor chap, poor chap!" said the Convener, looking down upon the strong, rugged face, now so haggard. "This is a hard country!"