"No," he said to himself, "I shouldn't have thought evil of him, and I certainly had no right to say what I did to father and Mr. Munster. Poor fellow! how lonely and miserable he must have been; and I might have stood his friend, if I'd only given him the chance of speaking about his troubles, instead of glaring at him as I did. Is it too late now to make up?" Just then the doctor came in; but for a long, long time he could not restore Stephen to consciousness. He was trying still when three o'clock struck. "Now he is really coming to--look, Dr. Grey," cried Archie, who had watched all the doctor's efforts with breathless anxiety. Just then Stephen gave a great sigh, and opened his eyes. "Where am I?" he asked feebly. "All among friends," said Archie, "and going to have a jolly time, and be nursed up, and made as strong as a horse.--Now, Dr. Grey, let's get a cab. I'll go and call one," and he bustled off. Outside he met a disgusting sight. It was Timothy Lingard, staggering towards the mill, very much the worse for what he had been drinking. "You can't go there; go home at once," said Archie. "Night-watch--caretaker--said I'd be here," mumbled Timothy, trying to brush past him; and then finding Archie still stood as a hindrance in front of him, he tried to strike him--of course not knowing who it was--only he missed his aim, and fell down into the gutter. There Archie left him, to seek a cab, which is not an easy thing to find at three o'clock in the morning. However, before long he did succeed in procuring one, and in it Stephen was conveyed to the nearest hospital. * * * * * Mr. Fairfax was just starting for his office the next morning when he was accosted by a respectable-looking working-man. "Do I speak to Mr. Fairfax, sir?" he asked, touching his hat. "Yes, that is my name. Can I do anything for you?" "Would you be good enough, sir, to tell me where my son, Stephen Bennett, is? I hear he was taken ill last night." "He's in the hospital. I'll take you--I was just going there myself," said Archie, who was with his father. "Your son has had a hard life, I fear, in your absence," said Mr. Fairfax, glancing curiously at the stranger, who did not look at all like a man capable of crime.