"No, no, little one," said Fred, a nervous accession of strength enabling him to speak out clearly and firmly now. "You must be strong and brave. You will see afterwards that it was all for the best, and that I am of some good to you all at last. Try and be strong and look at it all as a blessing. Can you bring the old man here? Morton, lad, with my last breath I'll pray that you may grow up as true and brave a fellow. Just think of it, you two--that night. He saw me in the room and escape, and he held his tongue to save me! Do you remember that day, Clairy, when he found me with you and attacked me as he did? I couldn't understand it, then. Ah! it's all plain enough, now. No wonder he hated me." "Fred, you must not talk," said Morton. "Not talk, lad?" said Fred with a sad smile. "I've not much more chance. Let me say a few words now." He lay silent though for a few moments, and his eyes closed as if glad of the rest; but at the end of a short space he began again in a half-wandering manner. "Brave old fellow! Not a word. Even when they took him. Wouldn't betray me because I was his own son. Tell Claire to tell him--some one tell him--I know why. It was because I was poor mother's favourite-- poor mother! How fond she was of me! The scapegrace. They always love the black sheep. Claire--fetch Claire." He uttered this wildly, and she bent over him, trembling. "I am here, dear Fred." He stared at her without recognition for a few minutes, and then smiled at her lovingly. "Only a bad headache, mother," he said. "Better soon. Don't look at me like that. I didn't mean to kill the old woman. I can't remember doing it. What a time it is since I've seen you. But look here, mother. Mind Claire. That scoundrel Rockley! I know him. Stand at nothing. Mind poor Claire, and--" A spasm seemed to shoot through him, and he uttered a faint cry of agony as he knit his brow. "Did you speak, dear?" he said huskily. "Have I been asleep?" "I--I think so," faltered Claire. "Yes, I fell asleep. I was dreaming of the poor mother. Claire dear, it would have killed her to see me here like this. There, there, it's all for the best. I want to sleep. Tell the old man he must come and forgive me before I go. Bring him, Morton, lad. No: you bring him, Claire. It will be pain to you, my child, but it is to help me. He will forgive me--brave, noble old fellow that he is--if you are standing by." The door opened, and the military nurse appeared. "The doctor says that you must not stay longer now, ma'am," he whispered. "Quite right," said Fred softly, and with the manner of one accustomed to yield to discipline. "Come again to-morrow--bring the old man to me--good-bye, dear, good-bye."