"It is nothing," he said, with a sickly smile. "I think it must have been a sunstroke. It is confoundedly hot." This lame explanation was accepted, and James refused to go into any of the neighbors' houses, though he consented to seat himself, for a few moments, on a rustic bench in the shade of the trees. Half an hour later, John, having finished his chat, strolled to the green and approached the group. He looked surprised when he caught sight of his brother, who of late had so carefully avoided him. His astonishment increased when James rose, and, advancing a step, said,-- "John, Nelly Curtis is married to that Brooke!" An angry flush rose to John's brow, and his black eyes flashed ominously, as he answered, in a hoarse, low voice,-- "So much the better, for now she will never be your wife." "Neither mine nor yours," said James, maliciously;--then, after a moment, he added, "She was a worthless thing, and we are well rid of her." At this, a tornado of passion seemed to seize John. He sprang forward, crying,-- "She was not worthless, and I will kill the first man who dares to say so." There was an interval of dead silence; the brothers regarded each other for a moment, then James shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and turned away. John glanced around him defiantly on the astonished crowd, and, seeing no one there likely to dispute with him, he seemed to have formed a sudden resolution, for he walked off rapidly after his brother. Isaac Welles had stood by, no unobservant witness of this scene. He noted something in those two men's eyes that recalled the fierce quarrel of the two boys; and as soon as it was possible for him to get away, he went off after the Blounts, determined, if possible, to prevent mischief. Meantime John had not met his brother; but, seeing James's horse was gone, he mounted his own and rode away towards home, determining to catch James before he could reach there. However, he did not overtake him. James was too cunning to ride directly to the farm-house, and John's headlong speed availed only to bring him there in time to find his mother alone and dangerously ill. In a moment all other thoughts were laid aside. The pent-up affection of John's heart had centred itself on his only parent. She had always been cold and stern with her sons, yet they loved her with a tender devotion which reclaimed natures that might otherwise have been wholly bad. With all the tenderness of a woman, John assisted his mother to her bed, and, not daring to leave her, awaited eagerly the coming of the only other person who could summon aid,--his brother James. At last he came,--riding slowly, with bowed head, up the lonely road. John went out to meet him. James looked up angry and astonished, and immediately threw himself into a position of defence. John shook his head. "James," he said, "I cannot settle our quarrel now. Mother is very ill,--perhaps dying." James started forward.