hether the concussion had driven coherent
recollection from his mind, or whether he was refraining from an
instinct of self-preservation, barring such thoughts as too exciting.
Nedda dreaded every day lest he should begin. She knew that the
questions would fall on her, since no answer could possibly be expected
from Granny except: "It's all right, darling, everything's going on
perfectly--only you mustn't talk!"

It began the last day of June, the very first day that he got up.

"They didn't save the hay, did they?"

Was he fit to hear the truth? Would he forgive her if she did not
tell it? If she lied about this, could she go on lying to his other
questions? When he discovered, later, would not the effect undo the good
of lies now? She decided to lie; but, when she opened her lips, simply
could not, with his eyes on her; and said faintly: "Yes, they did."

His face contracted. She slipped down at once and knelt beside his
chair. He said between his teeth:

"Go on; tell me. Did it all collapse?"

She could only stroke his hands and bow her head.

"I see. What's happened to them?"

Without looking up, she murmured:

"Some have been dismissed; the others are working again all right."

"All right!"

She looked up then so pitifully that he did not ask her anything more.
But the news put him back a week. And she was in despair. The day he got
up again he began afresh:

"When are the assizes?"

"The 7th of August."

"Has anybody been to see Bob Tryst?"

"Yes; Aunt Kirsteen has been twice."

Having been thus answered, he was quiet for a long time. She had slipped
again out of her chair to kneel beside him; it seemed the only place
from which she could find courage for her answers. He put his hand, that
had lost its brown, on her hair. At that she plucked up spirit to ask:

"Would you like me to go and see him?"

He nodded.

"Then, I will--to-morrow."

"Don't ever tell me what isn't true, Nedda! People do; that's why I
didn't ask before."

She answered fervently:

"I won't! Oh, I won't!"

She dreaded this visit to the prison. Even to think of those places gave
her nightmare. Sheila's description of her night in a cell had made her
shiver with horror. But there was a spirit in Nedda that went through
with things; and she started early the next day, refusing Kirsteen's
proffered company.

The look of that battlemented building, whose walls were pierced with
emblems of the Christian faith, turned h