But Aunt Ninette followed him up before he could make good his retreat. "Do tell me, doctor, will her arm be lame? Stiff all the rest of her life?" "Oh, I trust not. I will call again to-morrow;" and the doctor was gone. "'Oh I trust not,'" repeated Aunt Ninette in a despairing tone, "that's a doctor's way of saying 'yes, of course.' I understand perfectly. What will become of us? How shall we ever live through this misfortune?" And she kept on fretting in this way until late into the evening. When Wili's mother went in to hear her little boy's prayers that night, she did not find him as usual, cheerfully sitting up in bed, ready for a good chat with her, if she would stay. He was crouched down all in a heap, and did not even look up at her, nor speak to her, when she sat down by him. "What is the matter with my little boy?" said she gently, "have you something wrong in your heart? have you been doing what you ought not?" The child made an unintelligible sound, neither yes nor no. "Well, say your evening hymn, Wili; perhaps that will make you feel better," said his mother. Wili began: "The moon climbs up the sky, The stars shine out on high, Shine sparkling, bright and clear"-- and so on, but his thoughts were not on what he was saying; he was listening to every sound outside the room, and he kept looking towards the door as if he expected something terrible to come in at any moment; and in his restless movements it was plain to see what a state of fear he was in. When he had reached the end of his hymn, "Oh Father, spare thy rod; Send us sweet sleep, Oh God; Let our sick neighbor slumber, too"-- he suddenly burst into tears, and clinging tight to his mother he sobbed out, "The child will not be able to sleep, and God will punish us dreadfully." "What are you talking about, dear Wili?" asked his mother tenderly. "Come, tell me what has happened. I have seen all day that something was the matter, and feared that you had been doing something wrong. What is it? Tell me." "We, we--perhaps we have shot a child!" "What do you mean?" cried his mother, now thoroughly alarmed, for she instantly recalled having seen the doctor hurry by to the cottage when they were at dinner. "It cannot be! Do tell me all about it, clearly, so that I can understand." And Wili gave as good an account as he could, of what he and Lili had been about that morning, and of their being so frightened at the cry of pain which followed the shooting of the arrow, that they had run away as fast as possible. And now they were so very miserable, that they did not want to live any longer, and both wanted to die, and to be done with it all.