And what good will that do, when--Tom, Tom, we must move Heaven and earth for petitions. I'll take them up myself, and get George Rivers to take me to the Home Secretary. Never fear, while there's justice in Heaven.' 'Here's Henry!' exclaimed Tom, withholding his father, who had almost ran against the brother, as they encountered round a corner. He was pale and bewildered, and hardly seemed to hear the Doctor's hasty asseverations that he would get a reprieve. 'He sent me to meet you,' said Henry. 'He wants you to go home--to Ave I mean. He says that is what he wants most--for you to go to her now, and to come to him to-morrow, or when you can; and he wants to hear how Aubrey is,' continued Henry, as if dreamily repeating a lesson. 'He saw then--?' 'Yes, and that seems to trouble him most.' Dr. May was past speaking, and Tom was obliged to answer for him--that Aubrey was pretty well again, and had desired his dearest, dearest love; then asked how Leonard was. 'Calm and firm as ever,' said Henry, half choked. 'Nothing seems to upset him, but speaking of--of you and Aubrey, Dr. May--and poor Ave. But--but they'll be together before long.' 'No such thing,' said Dr. May. 'You will see that certainty cures, when suspense kills; and for him, I'll never believe but that all will be right yet. Are you going home?' 'I shall try to be with--with the dear unhappy boy as long as I can, and then I'll come home.' Dr. May grasped Henry's hand, gave a promise of coming, and a message of love to the prisoner, tried to say something more, but broke down, and let Tom lead him away. CHAPTER XV Under the shroud Of His thunder-cloud Lie we still when His voice is loud, And our hearts shall feel The love notes steal, As a bird sings after the thunder peal--C. F. A. Not till dusk could Dr. May get back to Stoneborough, and then, in an evening gleam of that stormy day, he was met at the gate of Bankside by Richard and Ethel. 'You need not come in, papa,' said Ethel. 'She is asleep. She knows.' Dr. May sighed with unspeakable relief. 'Mr. Bramshaw telegraphed, and his clerk came down. It was not so very bad! She saw it in our faces, and she was so worn out with talking and watching, that--that the very turning her face to the wall with hope over, became sleep almost directly.' 'That is well,' murmured the Doctor. 'And can you be spared, my dear? If you could come I should be glad, for poor Aubrey is quite done up.' 'I can come. Mary is with her, and Richard will stay to meet Henry, if he is coming home, or to send up if they want you; but I think she will not wake for many hours; and then--oh! what can any one do!'