Fortunately the wagon was at home; and before it stood an old horse that one of the men said "he should like to see run!"--but for once such deficiency was the best recommendation. Another man set off on foot to find and help Dr. Harrison, and the owner of the slow horse gave the reins to Sam. The wagon was not on springs, and the buffalo skin was old, and the horse was slow!--beyond a question; but still it was easier than walking, and even quicker. Sam Stoutenburgh did his best to make Faith comfortable--levying upon various articles for that purpose, and drove along with a pleasure which after all can never be unmixed in this world! Even Sam felt that, for his long-drawn "Oh Miss Faith!"--said much, and carried Faith's thoughts (she hardly knew why) to more than one person at home. "Sam," said Faith, "I don't want to say anything about this to-night." "Well, ma'am--I won't say a word, if I can help it. Do you mean to _anybody_, Miss Faith?" "Not to anybody. I mean, not to any one at home." "I won't if I can help it," Sam repeated. "But it's my night to stay with Mr. Linden." "Is it?--Well--what if it is?" "I don't know--" said Sam dubiously,--"he has a funny way of reading people's faces." "But what is going to be in yours, Sam?" "I don't know that, neither," said Sam. "But the fact is, Miss Faith, he always _does_ find out things--and if it's anything he's got to do with you may just as good tell him at once as to fuss round." A pretty significant piece of information! Upon which Faith mused. It was not so late when they reached Mrs. Derrick's door, that the good lady's anxiety had got fairly under way. At that moment indeed, she had quitted the front of the house, and gone to hurry Cindy and the teakettle; so that Faith was in the house and her escort dismissed, before Mrs. Derrick appeared. "Why pretty child!" she said--"here you are! I was very near getting worried. And I went up and asked Mr. Linden what time it was, lest the clock shouldn't be right; but he seemed to think it wasn't worth while to fret about you yet. You're tired to death!" she added, looking at Faith. "You're as pale as anything, child!" "Yes mother--I'm very tired." And very glad to get home, she would have said, but her lips failed it. "Well do sit down, child," said her mother, "and I'll take your things up stairs. Tea's all ready--that'll do you good, and then you shall go right to bed." But that did not seem what Faith was ready to do; instead of that, she preferred to sit down by her mother, and wrap her arms round her again and lay her head in her mother's lap. Even then she did not sleep, though she was by no means inclined to talk and answered Mrs. Derrick's fond or anxious words with very few in return, low and quiet, or with quiet caresses. And when her mother was silent, to let her sleep, Faith was silent too.