father's old friend, before crossing the room, and entering the chamber,
which looked dim and solemn by the light of the two candles upon the
dressing table. He took up one of these, and went to the bedside, to
stand gazing down at Andrew's drawn face and bandaged arm, his brown
hair lying loose upon the pillow, and making his face look the whiter by
contrast.

"In much pain, Drew?" he said softly; but there was no reply.

"Can I do anything for you?"

Still no reply, and the impression gathered strength in the boy's mind
that his companion could hear what he said but felt too bitter to reply.

This idea grew so strong, that at last he said gently:

"Don't be angry with me, Drew. It is very sad and unfortunate, and I
want to try and help you bear it patiently. Would you like me to do
anything for you? Talk to you--read to you; or would you like me to
write to your father, and tell him of what has happened?"

But, say what he would, Andrew Forbes made no sign, and lay perfectly
still--so still, that in his anxiety Frank stretched out his hand to
touch the boy's forehead and hands, which were of a pleasant
temperature.

"He is too much put out to speak," thought Frank; "and I don't wonder.
He must feel cruelly disappointed at his failure to escape; but I'm glad
he has not got away; for it would have been horrible for him to have
gone and joined the poor foolish enthusiasts who have landed in the
north."

He stood gazing sadly down at the wounded lad for some minutes, and then
softly took the extra pillow and blanket from the bed, carried them to
the little couch in the next room, returned for the candles, and, after
holding them over the patient for a few minutes, he went back quietly to
the sitting-room, placed them on the table, took a book, and sat down to
read.

He sat down to read, but he hardly read a line, for the scenes of the
past twenty-four hours came between his eyes and the print, and at the
end of a quarter of an hour he wearily pushed the book aside, took up
one of the candles, and looked in the chamber to see how Andrew appeared
to be.

Apparently he had not moved; but now, as the boy was going to ask him
again if he could do anything for him, he heard the breath coming and
going as if he were sleeping calmly; and feeling that this was the very
best thing that could happen to him, he went softly back to his seat,
and once more drew the book to his side.

But no; the most interesting work