u not strike for them?" cried Avery, who
could not bear anything that seemed like cowardice.

"Should I, think you?" he made answer, in that low, hopeless tone that
goes to the heart. "There were seventy or more of the enclosure men. I
could but have died with them. Maybe I ought to have done that. I
think it had cost less."

"Forgive me, Robin!" said John, laying his hand on the lad's shoulder.
"Poor heart! I meant not to reproach thee. I spake hastily, therefore
unadvisedly."

"Let me have thee abed, poor Robin," said Isoult. "'Tis but one of the
clock. Canst thou sleep, thinkest?"

"Sometime, I count I shall again," he answered; "but an' I were to judge
by my feeling, I should think I never could any more."

"Time healeth," whispered Avery, rather to his wife than Robin; but the
lad heard him.

"God doth, Mr Avery," he said. "And they are with God."

"Art thou less, Robin?" asked Avery tenderly.

"God is with me; that is the difference," he replied.

Robin Tremayne had always been a quiet, thoughtful boy; and even when
the first gush of his agony was over, there remained upon him a gentle,
grave pensiveness which it appeared as if he would never lose.

The next day proved as uneventful as other days at Bradmond. No rioters
came near them.

In the evening Dr Thorpe appeared. When the old man saw Robin, he cast
up his hands, and thanked God.

"Lad," said he, "I thought thou wert dead."

"I count God hath somewhat for me to do," answered Robin. "But if He
hath not, I would I were."

"Hush thee, Robin dear!" said Isoult, uneasily.

"What wouldst thou be, Robin?" inquired Kate, her eyes wide open.

"Dead and buried," answered he.

"Then may I be dead and buried too?" she asked.

"Nay, Kate, not so!" cried Isoult, in dismay.

"It will not do, Robin," said Dr Thorpe, smiling. And his face growing
grave, he pursued, "Lad, God setteth never too hard a lesson, nor layeth
on us more than we are able to bear."

"Too hard for what?" answered Robin. "There have been that have had
lessons set that they might not learn and live. Is that not too hard?"

"Nay, child!" Dr Thorpe answered. "If it be not too hard to learn, and
keep hold on eternal life, the lesser life of this little world is of no
matter."

"Nor the happiness of it, I suppose?" said Robin, gloomily.

"The plant God careth to grow now in us is holiness," he answered.
"That other fair flower, happiness, He keepeth for us in Hi