All through that night, a storm of conflicting emotions raged in poor Phil's heart. He said to himself that he could not, would not live to endure so cruel a fate. What, never walk, nor run, nor jump again? Never draw himself up to his full height, and feel that delicious sensation of strength and power tingling through every vein in his body? Be a helpless cripple all his life long—a thing as useless as a log of wood? Be compelled to lie perfectly still? Be at the entire mercy of others, utterly dependent upon them for the gratification of every wish, the supply of every want? No, it was too hard a punishment for such a sin as his had been. What was it but a few passionate words, a small act of revenge, committed under great provocation? How was he to know that such dire results would be the consequence? They had not been his desire. Besides, had he not acknowledged and repented of his sin? Had he not gone almost beyond human power to make atonement? O it was cruel! It was most unjust! But lately Phil had learnt something of his Saviour's love, and with the dawn of morning a wondrous calm fell upon his troubled mind. It was no punishment after all, perhaps. It might be that God had sent this hard and bitter trial to prove him. Then, God helping him, he would stand the test and "suffer and be strong." Again he seemed to hear the sweet, low words: "'Nevertheless not my will, but Thine, be done.'" It must have been an angel's voice, Phil thought, for there was no Miss Crawford there to whisper lovingly to him. So, with a peaceful smile upon his face, he fell asleep, and the first beam of the rising sun, stealing across his pillow, made a halo of glory about his head. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VIII. MILLIE'S REAL FAIRY. IT was not until the middle of October that Phil was considered sufficiently well to leave the hospital. In consequence of Miss Crawford's kindness, without which the plan would have been impracticable, it was arranged he should go straight to—Where do you think? Why, to dear old Chormouth. Knowing the benefit that Phil would probably derive from sea air, and being well aware that it was the place above all others that he would prefer to visit, Miss Crawford had asked Richard Hunt to allow his nephew and niece to spend a month in their native village; and that there might be no hesitation because of the expense that such an arrangement would necessitate, she had expressed her willingness to pay more than half the expenses if Mr. Hunt would advance the remainder. To Millie's openly expressed joy, he gladly consented. Phil did not say much, perhaps he could not, but Miss Crawford understood the look of radiant delight with which he heard the good news, and was satisfied that he was happy.