"Yes—that is, I knew him at college," replied Paul, making an evident effort to control his agitation. "He was a foolish boy, and unworthy of so good a home." "I have heard that the men blamed the knight for having been over-strict with him, and that the young gentleman himself laid his wrong-doing to the same cause." "That is not true," said Paul almost fiercely. "He never sunk so low as that. He would have been the basest hound that ever lived, had he done so." "I am glad to hear that," said Jack. "I can never think much of those who strive to excuse themselves by laying all their faults on the shoulders of others. I wish he would come back to his home. I am sure the good knight would receive him joyfully—even as the prodigal in the parable was received by his father. But you are talking too much for one in your weak state," he added. "Let me give you some food or a cordial, and then do you try to sleep." "I am indeed weary," said Paul. "But must you go away?" "Not if you need me," replied Jack. "I will stay all night if you desire it. I can easily send word to my father, and I am sure he will make no objection to my doing so." Paul said something about it being too much to ask of a stranger, but he was so evidently pleased by the proposition, that Jack at once decided to stay, and went down-stairs to seek a messenger. Davy willingly undertook the office. "And what do you make of him?" he asked. "Very little as yet," replied Jack, unwilling to mention his suspicions. "He has been at Holford at some time, I dare say in the train of some gentleman who came to visit at the Hall—and his mind runs on it. He is very feeble, and his mind is disturbed, but he seems to like to have me beside him." "I am sure you are very kind," said Davy. "What shall I say to your father for you?" "Only that I am going to watch by the stranger's bedside, with his good leave," said Jack; "and you may, if you please, ask Dame Cicely for my warm doublet, for the nights are growing chill." "And that reminds me that I may as well kindle a little fire in the room," said Mary. "A blaze is a cheerful companion, and, as you say, the nights are growing chill. But, Master Jack," said she, detaining Jack for a moment, after Davy had gone on his errand, "I want to consult you about a certain matter, and that is, as to whether I should send for a priest?" "Has the young man asked for a priest?" inquired Jack. "No, that he has not," replied Mary. "He shook his head when I asked him at his first coming whether he would have one; and when I did but hint at it again, he said right sharply, 'No, no! No priest,' and Davy bid me not trouble him about the matter. But maybe he should have one for all that." "I would not trouble him at present," said Jack. "If he grows worse we can send for Sir William, who will come any hour of the night, you know."