The after-effects were not serious, as far as Doddy was concerned. He
got a severe cold, but nothing worse--not taking into account the
castigation administered with a good-will by his "auntie." With poor
Bildy it was different. He had been in the ice-cold water far longer
than the boy, and a serious attack of pneumonia was the result. The
poor fellow had probably little stamina. He did not rally, even when
the climax seemed to have been successfully passed, but grew weaker
every day.

"Robina Lamont wants me to go to that poor fellow," Val said one day.
"She wants me to do what I can for him, as the doctor gives no hope of
recovery. I can baptize him conditionally, of course, and I am
starting now. Would you like to come, Ted?"

I was most anxious to accompany him, and we set out at once for the
Lamonts' cottage.

Bildy looked frightfully wasted; his face was the color of parchment,
and his brown eyes looked enormously large and startlingly bright. But
what touched me more than his emaciated appearance was the wonderful
expression of emotion which shone from those large eyes as we appeared
at the bedside; they looked at Val with the yearning affection that one
sees sometimes in a faithful dog. The poor fellow put out his white,
wasted hand to Val with evident delight.

"Bildy's been wearyin' for ye, Father," said Robina. "He's often cried
out for Father Fleming."

The dying man's eyes were proof that she spoke truly.

The short ceremony was soon over, and after some prayers for the sick
man we took our leave. For the few days that he lingered after that,
the visit of the priest--twice every day and sometimes oftener--was the
culminating point of satisfaction for poor Bildy.

I was there with Val when the end came. Bildy passed away quite
peacefully while we joined in the prayers for the dying; a calm smile
was on his face, and some vision of delight before his wide-open eyes,
which it is not for mortals to attempt to fathom.

"Poor fellow!" exclaimed Val, as we took our way home; "life has held
little of happiness for him. Indeed, one can hardly call it life in
the full sense of the word; it was mere existence, as far as we can
see."

"Let's hope that life has begun for him at last," I said reverently.

"I have little doubt of that," replied the priest.

VII

SMUGGLERS

"My enemy's dog,
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
Against my fire."
(