“You see, he went to town last evening to meet the man who is going to buy Brutus.” “And Brutus did it? I knew he would!” cried Rose, dropping her work to wring her hands, as if she guessed the ending of the story now. “Yes, and if he wasn't shot already I'd do it myself with pleasure, for he's done his best to kill Charlie,” muttered Charlie's mate with a grim look, then gave a great sigh and added with averted face, “I shouldn't blame the brute, it wasn't his fault. He needed a firm hand and--” He stopped there, but Rose said quickly: “Go on. I must know.” “Charlie met some of his old cronies, quite by accident; there was a dinner party, and they made him go, just for a good-bye, they said. He couldn't refuse, and it was too much for him. He would come home alone in the storm, though they tried to keep him, as he wasn't fit. Down by the new bridge that high embankment, you know the wind had put the lantern out he forgot or something scared Brutus, and all went down together.” Archie had spoken fast and brokenly but Rose understood and at the last word hid her face with a little moan, as if she saw it all. “Drink this and never mind the rest,” he said, dashing into the next room and coming back with a glass of water, longing to be done and away, for this sort of pain seemed almost as bad as that he had left. Rose drank, but held his arm tightly, as he would have turned away, saying in a tone of command he could not disobey: “Don't keep anything back tell me the worst at once.” “We knew nothing of it,” he went on obediently. “Aunt Clara thought he was with me, and no one found him till early this morning. A workman recognized him and he was brought home, dead they thought. I came for Uncle an hour ago. Charlie is conscious now, but awfully hurt, and I'm afraid from the way Mac and Uncle looked at one another that Oh! Think of it, Rose! Crushed and helpless, alone in the rain all night, and I never knew, I never knew!” With that, poor Archie broke down entirely and, flinging himself into a chair, laid his face on the table, sobbing like a girl. Rose had never seen a man cry before, and it was so unlike a woman's gentler grief that it moved her very much. Putting by her own anguish, she tried to comfort his and, going to him, lifted up his head and made him lean on her, for in such hours as this women are the stronger. It was a very little to do, but it did comfort Archie, for the poor fellow felt as if fate was very hard upon him just then, and in this faithful bosom he could pour his brief but pathetic plaint. “Phebe's gone, and now if Charlie's taken, I don't see how I can bear it!” “Phebe will come back, dear, and let us hope poor Charlie isn't going to be taken yet. Such things always seem worst at first, I've heard people say, so cheer up and hope for the best,” answered Rose, seeking for some comfortable words to say and finding very few.