The laird and Captain Vallery drove towards home as fast as they could, but their anxiety to arrive at the end of their journey made the road appear much longer than it had on coming. Mrs Maclean wished to carry Robby on with her. To this, however, Alec would not agree. "No, Mrs Maclean," he answered, "he will do very well with me. I could not rest without him under my roof, and a sailor's son will be none the worse for a ducking." Robby was then lifted out of the carriage, and by his own request placed on the ground. "Please, Mrs Maclean, may I come over to-morrow to ask how the young gentleman is?" he said looking up. "I will ask God, when I say my prayers to-night, that he may be made well." "If your grandfather can spare you, we shall be glad to see you," said Mrs Maclean. "I must thank you for the interest you feel in my little grandson," said Mrs Leslie. Robby seemed much pleased. As long as the carriages were in sight he stood watching them, and then ran after his grandfather into the cottage. As soon as the party reached Glen Tulloch, Norman was carried up to bed. It was evident that he was very ill, he had been heated by scrambling about the rocks, and the cold water had given him a sudden chill. Before the next morning he was in a high fever. A doctor was sent for, but some hours elapsed before he arrived. He looked very grave and said that the little boy required the greatest care and watching. Mrs Leslie and her mamma insisted that Fanny should go to bed, and as she was always obedient, she did as they wished, but she could not go to sleep. All night long she thought of her little brother, and of the danger he was in, and oh! how earnestly she prayed that he might recover. Either his granny or mamma sat by his bedside throughout the night. He tumbled and tossed, his limbs and his head aching again and again, he saw little birds flitting backwards and forwards in the room. "Ah! ah! naughty boy, I am Pecksy's brother, you killed him; you know you did!" said one nodding its head, as it perched on the back of a chair, at the end of his bed. Then it flew away, and another came and said, "I am Pecksy's sister, naughty boy, you killed him, you know you did!" and it too nodded its head. A third and a fourth and a fifth came and chirped in plaintive tones, "Oh, why did you kill our dear little friend? you say you did not kill him; you know you did, you naughty boy!" and so they went on flying backwards and forwards, now concealed in the dark part of the room, and now appearing in the light of the lamp. In vain Norman tried to raise his voice--he could not even whisper--all he could do was to watch them with his aching eyes as they flitted to and fro. Oh! how he longed to get rid of them. Would they never go away? No; back they came, and twittered in the same mournful strain. "You killed our brother, you killed our friend; you know you did, naughty, naughty boy!"