“He is alive, thank God; perhaps he is only stunned; we must go for Dr. Bates at once,” said John, after a brief examination of Charlie.
Here a stifled sob broke from Jack, who was standing with his head buried on his elbow which he was leaning on the corner of the chimney-piece, and caused the shepherd to turn to the son who was suffering far the most acutely. John crossed the room to his eldest son, and put his arm round his neck. He did not say a word, but as Jack grasped his father’s hand, he knew that he not only forgave him, but sympathised with him also. If they had never understood each other before they understood each other now, these two, as they stood half broken-hearted by the chimney-piece. Jack understood that whatever trouble might be in store for him in consequence of his hasty act, his father would be his friend and do his best to help him; he knew, too, that he would never hear a word of blame from his lips, for as children, the shepherd had ever been wont to forgive them directly they showed any signs of repentance, and it did not require much penetration to see that Jack already bitterly regretted his hasty temper. And the shepherd understood what it was that had roused Jack’s anger; in fact, at any rate, he could quite sympathise with his vexation and annoyance at the death of the lamb, and he guessed at his jealousy with regard to Fairy, for Jack’s love for her was no secret to his father.
“Jack, some one must go for the doctor at once. Will you, or shall I?” asked the shepherd.
“Oh! I will, I can go quicker; besides, you can’t leave the men yet,” said Jack, rising and seizing his hat.
“That is the best plan; I can’t dismiss these men yet, but I will tell them we have had a bad accident, so I can’t ask them to stay late, and I’ll come in every few minutes, Polly, to see how you are going on,” said the shepherd, as Jack left the house.
All this happened much quicker than it has taken to tell, and ten minutes after the blow was struck Jack was running across the fields to Lewes like a madman, knowing that his brother’s life hung in the balance. While he was gone John Shelley told the men in the tent his youngest boy had met with a serious accident, and was lying between life and death, and, to their credit, the men unanimously stopped singing and took their departure before Jack returned with the doctor.
So ended John Shelley’s first White Ram.
(To be continued.)
A VEXED “WOMAN’S QUESTION.”
By ISABELLA FYVIE MAYO.