Sir Thomas was really angry with his son. A few words of withering scorn made that young gentleman--afraid of his father for the first time--assist with his own courtly hands in pushing the plank across the ice. The relief reached those endangered just in time. Blanche was carried home in her father's arms, and delivered to Rachel to be nursed; while Feversham, the moment that he recognised himself to be no longer responsible for her safety, fainted where he lay. He was borne to the house by Sim and Dick--Master Jack following in a leisurely manner, with his gentlemanly hands in his pockets. When all was safely over, Sir Thomas put his hand on Jack's shoulder. For the first time that the father could remember, the son looked slightly abashed. "Jack, which was the coward?" And Jack failed to answer. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ John Feversham joined the party again at supper. He looked very pale, but otherwise maintained his usual imperturbable demeanour, though scarcely seeming to like the expressions of admiration which were showered upon him. "Metrusteth, Jack," said Rachel cuttingly to her nephew, "next time thou wilt do thy best not to mistake a hero for a coward. I should not marvel, trow, if the child's going on yon ice were some mischievous work of thine." "'Twas a gallant deed, in very sooth, Master Feversham,--without you can swim," said Lady Enville faintly. She had gone into hysterics on hearing of the accident, and considered herself deserving of the deepest commiseration for her sufferings. "I am thankful Blanche wear but her camlet." "Canst thou swim, lad?" asked Sir Thomas of John. "No," he answered quietly. "Were you not afeared, Master Feversham?" said Rachel. "Ay, a little--lest I should be full spent ere help could come. But for that I trusted God. For aught else--nay: it was no time to think thereof." "Methinks, Jack Feversham," said Sir Thomas affectionately, "none shall call thee a coward any more." Feversham smiled back in answer. "Sir Thomas," he said, "I fear God, and I love her. This was God's work, and her great peril. How could I have held back?" Sir Thomas glanced at his son; but Jack was twirling his moustache, and intently contemplating one of the stags' heads which decorated the hall. After that day, there was a great change in Blanche Enville. She had come so near death, and that so suddenly, that she was sobered and softened. God in His mercy opened her eyes, and she began to ask herself,--What is the world worth? What, after all, is anything worth, except to please God, and win His blessing, and inherit His glory? Her opinion was changed, too, as it respected John Feversham. There was no possibility of mistaking him for a coward any longer. And whatever he had been, she could scarcely have failed to cherish some kindly feeling towards the man who had risked his life for hers.