At the outer door Joe gave a whispered account of what had happened. He had been crossing Saffrons Croft on the way up to see Ernie, when he had noticed Ruth and the children under the elms. Little Alice had seen him and come rushing through the players towards her friend. A cricket-ball had struck her on the forehead; and he had carried her home like a dead thing. Outside the cottage they had met Alf, and Ruth had asked him to go for Mr. Trupp. Ernie ran back upstairs. The old surgeon, bending over the child, gave him a reassuring glance. "The child's all right," he said. "See to the mother!" and nodded to Ruth, who was holding on to the mantel-piece. She was swaying. Ern gathered her to him. The whole of her weight seemed on him. His eyes hung on her face, pale beneath its dark crown as once, and only once, he had seen it before--that time she lay on the bed in Royal's dressing-room on the dawn of her undoing. "Ruth," he called quietly. Slowly she returned to life, opening her eyes, and drawing her hand across them. "Is that you, Ern?" she sighed. "O, that's right. I come all over funny like. Silly! I'm all right now." Ernie lowered her into a chair. She sat a moment, gathering herself. Then she looked up at him--and remembered. She had been caught. Fear came over her, and she began to tremble. He bent and kissed her. "I'm sorry I said that, Ruth," he whispered in her ear. A lovely light welled up into her eyes. At that moment she was nearer loving him than she had ever been. Regardless of Mr. Trupp's presence, she put a hand on either of his shoulders, and regarded him steadfastly, a baffling look on her face. "Dear Ern!" she said. "Only I'd liefer you didn't say it again. See, it _do_ hurt from you." CHAPTER XIV SHADOWS Ern was not called up after all. The trap-door through which men had peered aghast into the fires of hell, closed suddenly as it had opened. Only the clang of the stokers working in the darkness under the earth could still be heard day and night at their infernal busyness by any who paused and laid ear to the ground. England and the world breathed again. "Touch and go," said Mr. Trupp, who felt like a man coming to the surface after a deep plunge. "Dress rehearsal," said the Colonel. "It'll never be so near again!" Mr. Pigott announced pontifically to his wife. "Never!" "Thank you," replied that lady. "May we take it from you?" When it was over the Colonel found that the walls of Jericho had fallen: the Liberal Citadel had been stormed. Mr. Geddes took the chair at a meeting at St. Andrew's Hall to discuss the programme of the League. "It looks as if you were right after all," the tall minister said to the Colonel gravely. "Pray heaven I'm not," the other answered in like tones.