Reuben was lying on his face a few yards in front of the others. For some seconds nobody moved. Then Backfield slowly raised himself on his arms. "I'm not hurt," he said in a shaking voice. "Harry!" cried Naomi, as if someone were strangling her. Reuben tottered to his feet. His face was black, and he was still half stunned by the explosion. "Harry!" cried Naomi--and then fainted. The smoke clouds were lifting, and now everyone could see a smouldering object that lay close to the hole, among bits of wood and stone. Reuben ran towards it, Ditch and Realf followed him. The others huddled stupidly together like sheep. "His clothes are still burning--here, help me, you!" cried Reuben, beating at the flames with his hands. "He's dead," said Realf. "Oh Lord!" wailed Ditch--"Oh Lord!" "He's bin hit on the head wud a piece of wood. I reckon he died painlessly. All this came afterwards." "Wipe the blood off his face." "Tell his poor girl he died wudout suffering." "He äun't dead," said Reuben. He had torn off the rags from his brother's heart, and felt it beating. "He äun't dead." "Oh Lord!" wailed Ditch.--"Oh Lord!" "Here, you chaps, fetch a gëat and put him on it--and döan't let Naomi see him." Naomi had been taken back to Odiam, when Harry, still motionless and apparently dead, was lifted on a gate, and borne away. Dark curds of smoke drifted among the willows, and the acrid smell of powder clung to the hillside like an evil ghost. The place where Harry had lain was marked by charred and trampled grass, and a great pool of blood was sinking into the ground ... it seemed to Reuben, as he turned shudderingly away, as if Boarzell were drinking it up--eagerly, greedily, as a thirsty land drinks up its first watering. § 8. Dr. Espinette from Rye stood glumly by Harry's bed. His finger lay on the fluttering pulse, and his eye studied the little of the sick man's face that could be seen between its bandages. "It's a bad business," he said at last; "that wound in the head's the worst of it. The burns aren't very serious in themselves. You must keep him quiet, and I'll call again to-morrow morning." "When ull he wäake up?" asked Mrs. Backfield in the feeble voice her tears had left her. "I don't know--it may be in an hour or two, it mayn't be for a week." "A week!" "I've known them unconscious longer than that. But, cheer up, ma'am--we're not going to let him slip past us." The doctor went away, and after a time Reuben was able to persuade his mother to go and lie down in the next room. He had quite recovered from the shock of the explosion; indeed, he was now the only calm person in the house. He sat down by Harry's bed, gazing at the unconscious face.