"But you must be tired, Ernest Thornton." "No, not a particle; let me help you as much as I can." "This is much easier than it was before," said she; and she clung to me like a frightened child--as indeed she was. "Don't be afraid to lean your whole weight upon me," I added. "I would carry you if I could." I think it was her fears more than her exertions that exhausted her; and, by the time we had walked another mile, as I estimated the distance, she declared that she felt better, and more able to walk than at first. As we continued on our way, I saw a horse car on another avenue,--street railroads at that time were not so abundant as now,--and we followed a cross street till we came to the track. "I feel ever so much better now!" exclaimed Kate, as the circumstances became more hopeful. "There is nothing more to fear," I replied. "I wish I knew how Tom Thornton was." "Why, what is the matter with him?" asked Kate, with astonishment; and I perceived that she had no definite idea of what had happened before the public house. The poor girl was so terrified that she had hardly known anything from the time our suspicions were first excited till we had walked two or three miles from the scene of the affray. "Did you think, Kate, that he permitted us to leave the carriage?" I asked. "I didn't think anything about it; I was so frightened I couldn't think." "I hope he is not badly hurt," I added, musing. "Badly hurt! Why, what do you mean, Ernest Thornton?" she asked, her terror renewed by my words. "Don't be alarmed, Kate; he deserved all he got, and more too, if the blow didn't kill him." "Why, Ernest Thornton!" "Do you see this?" I added, holding up the wrench, which, from an instinct of self-preservation, I had kept in my hand. "What is it?" "An iron wrench. I struck Tom Thornton over the head with it, and he fell from the drivers box on the backs of the horses." "O!" groaned she. "It could not be helped, Kate." "I hope he is not much hurt." "I hope not; but I can't help it if he is," I replied, desperately, for I had many fears in regard to the result, and was not half so confident of the future as I tried to appear. "There is a car, Kate," I added, throwing the wrench away. "Now be calm, and try to look as though nothing had happened." She covered her face with a thick veil, and we entered the horse car. Riding in silence for a long hour, we reached the Park, where, taking a stage, we proceeded to the hotel. It was nearly eleven o'clock when we went into the parlor, where Kate sank exhausted upon a sofa. I found that Mrs. Macombe had retired, but I called her up. The poor girl's nerves were fearfully unstrung, but the good woman ministered to her like an angel. She slept with her, and was all that a loving mother could be to her.