"I mean to protect the weak against the strong, sir. I consider that my business. You've given that boy more unmerciful beatings already than he ought to have had in a lifetime, and he not at all a bad boy either. I know all about that padlock affair, though he's never breathed a word to me on the subject, and I'd enjoy nothing better than thrashing you soundly; what's more I'll do it if ever I know you to strike him again; or my name's not Bill Simpson. Max, if he ever does, you've only to let 'Big Bill' hear of it and he'll get ten times more than he's given." "Thank you, Bill," said Max, running to the big, kind-hearted fellow and giving him his hand. "I'm glad to be protected from him, though I don't want him hurt if he'll only let me alone." Fox had already stalked away in the direction of the house, swelling with inward wrath, but assuming an air of injured innocence and offended dignity. Standing in wholesome fear of Max's self-constituted defender, he never again ventured to lay violent hands on the lad, but contented himself with inflicting many petty annoyances. CHAPTER XII. "Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon." --_Shakspeare_. It was already past the middle of November when Captain Raymond received his injuries, so that the six weeks or more of enforced inaction would carry him into the month of January. He had hoped to spend Christmas with his children, but that was now clearly impossible, as he sadly owned to himself, for he was a loving father and felt the disappointment keenly on both his own account and theirs. There would be no festivities at Ion this year, bereavement was still too recent with themselves, too imminent with those very near by the ties of kindred. But there was to be an exchange of gifts; there had been that even last year when but a few months had elapsed since the departure to the better land of the beloved husband and father. Captain Raymond, sitting quietly in his invalid chair, generally to all appearance buried in a book, overheard many a consultation in regard to what would be most acceptable to this or that one who happened to be absent from the room at the moment, for it was intended that most of the gifts, at least, should be a surprise to the recipients. One day when the talk was of those to be provided for Rosie and Walter, Mrs. Dinsmore noticed that their guest was listening with a very interested look. "Captain Raymond," she said, turning to him with an engaging smile, "we purpose to go into the city to-morrow to shop for these things; can we do anything in that line for you?"