"Don't heed my risk," said Dr. Byrom. "I will give you shelter, if you require it." "I'm quite sure we could conceal you," cried Beppy; "and only think how exciting it would be if the boroughreeve should call, and you had to be shut up in a closet! Or, better still, if you were carefully disguised, you might be presented to him without fear of detection. As to Mr. Fowden, I shouldn't mind him, even if he came on purpose to search for you. I'm sure I could contrive some little plot that would effectually delude him. 'Twould only be like a game at hide-and-seek." "But if I lost the game, the penalty would be rather serious," replied Atherton. "I have no doubt of your cleverness, Miss Byrom; but I must not expose myself to needless risk." While this conversation was going on, Dr. Byrom observed to his old friend, "I have something to say to you in private. Can we go into another room?" Struck by the gravity of his manner, Dr. Deacon took him into an adjoining apartment. "I am afraid you have some bad news for me," he remarked. "I have," replied Dr. Byrom, still more gravely. "Your son Robert----" "What of him?" interrupted Dr. Deacon. "Has he had a relapse of the fever? If so, I must go to him at once." "'Twill not be necessary, my good friend," replied Dr. Byrom, mournfully. "He does not require your attendance." Dr. Deacon looked at him fixedly for a moment, and reading the truth in his countenance, murmured, "He is gone!" "Yes, he has escaped the malice of his enemies," said Dr. Byrom. "Heaven's will be done!" ejaculated Dr. Deacon, with a look of profound resignation. "Truly I have need of fortitude to bear the weight of affliction laid upon me. Robert!--my dear, brave son!--gone!--gone!" "Be comforted, my good friend," said Dr. Byrom, in accents of profound sympathy. "His troubles are over." "True," replied the other. "But the blow has well-nigh stunned me. Give me a chair, I pray you." As Dr. Byrom complied, he remarked: "I ought to have broken this sad news to you with greater care--and, indeed, I hesitated to mention it." "You have acted most kindly--most judiciously--like the friend you have ever shown yourself," rejoined Dr. Deacon. "All is for the best, I doubt not. But when I think of my dear boy Robert, my heart is like to burst. He was so kind, so gallant, so loyal, so true." "He has been removed from a world of misery," said Dr. Byrom. "Reflection, I am sure, will reconcile you to his fate, sad as it now may seem." "I have misjudged myself," said Dr. Deacon. "When I sent forth my three sons on this expedition, I thought I was prepared for any eventuality, but I now find I was wrong. One I have already lost--the other two will follow quickly." CHAPTER XIII. A JOURNEY TO LONDON PROPOSED.