which was from his
mother--

"Dear Julian--Come home _instantly_; your father is most dangerously
ill. I cannot add more."

The boys heard a cry, and the master made a sign to Lillyston, who had
already started to his feet. Springing out of the unclosed door, he
found Julian half-fainting; for his home affections were the very
mainsprings of his life. He read the message, helped Julian
down-stairs, flung a little cold water over his face, and then led him
to their own study, where he immediately began, without a word, to pack
up for him such things as he thought he would require.

Lillyston made all the necessary arrangements, and did not leave his
friend until he had seen him into the railway carriage, and pressed his
hand with a silent farewell. He watched the train till it was out of
sight.

Then first did Julian's anguish find vent in tears. Passionately he
longed at least to _know_ the worst, and would have given anything to
speed the progress of the train, far too slow for his impatient misery.
He was tormented by remembering the unusually solemn look and tone with
which his father had parted from him a month before, and by the
presentiment which at that moment had flashed across him with
uncontrollable vividness, that they should never meet again. At last,
at last they reached Ildown late in the evening, just as the flushed
glare of crimson told the death-struggle of an angry sunset with the
dull and heavy clouds. The station was a mile from the town, and it was
a raw, gusty, foggy evening. There was no conveyance at the station,
but leaving with the porter a hasty direction about his luggage, Julian
flew along the road heedless of observation, reached the cliff, and at
length stood before the rectory door. He was wet, hungry, and
exhausted, for since morning he had tasted nothing, and his run had
spattered him with mud from head to heel. It was too dark to judge what
had happened from the appearance of the house, and half-frantic as he
was with fear and eagerness, he had yet not dared to give a loud summons
at the door, lest he should disturb his father's slumber or excite his
nerves.

Ah! Julian, you need not restrain your impetuous dread from that cause
now--

The door opened very quietly, and in reply to Julian's incoherent
question, the good old servant only shook her head, and turned away to
brush off with her apron the tears which she vainly struggled to
repress. But the boy burst into