"Father,
He died for me, I must live for Him." My mind travelled from one thought
to another, whilst ever and anon a struggling sob for breath seemed like
the subsiding of a tempest. Shaping themselves into more or less
definite plans, came thoughts, too, of the future before me in this
world:--I should never be quite happy any more, I thought; but I would
try to keep on, like Ralph's father, living for Christ in some way, and
grow up to be very good--perhaps I should be a missionary--I was not
quite sure on the whole what sphere of life would be the most trying or
praiseworthy--and then at last Aleck and I would meet in heaven. This I
believe to have been the last point of conscious reflection, for more
and more vague and desultory became my thoughts afterwards. Nature would
have her revenge for all the restlessness and anxiety of the past few
days. I fell into a profound sleep.

CHAPTER X.

SUNDAY EVENING.

Where I was, why I was where I was, and what time of the day or night it
might happen to be--were questions which presented themselves to my mind
in hazy succession, as, roused from my slumbers by the hum of voices, I
woke slowly to the consciousness that, though I had been asleep, I was
not in bed. It was only by a very gradual process of recollection that
the past came back upon me almost like a fresh story, and I was at least
a minute rubbing my eyes, and collecting my thoughts, before I took in
all the familiar objects in the room, from the sofa on which I found
myself reposing, to the fire-place at which, with their backs turned to
me, my father and Dr. Wilson were in close conversation. My father's
voice was low and serious, and at the moment when, having finished the
process of awakening, I was going to speak, his words came slowly and
distinctly to my ears, and sank down into my heart:--

"The thought of his parents' grief on hearing of the death--such a
death, too!--of their only child, has been almost more than I could
bear."

Aleck was dead!--there was no hope left! I thought; and with a piteous
exclamation of grief, I turned round and hid my face in my hands,
leaning up against the sofa.

In another moment my father was at my side. I felt his arm encircling me
as he drew me towards him, and bending down, whispered softly,--

"It is no time for grief now, Willie; I was speaking of what _might_
have been; let us give God thanks, for the danger is over--Aleck is
spared to us."

I slowly