brown hair dyed with blood, which slowly trickled from a wound on the head.

"Oh, Charlie! my brother!" sobbed little Dysart; "he's dead! I'm sure he's dead!" Then darting up, rushed to the door, and seeing Dr. Leslie passing, screamed “Dr. Leslie! Dr. Leslie! do come! do come, please! Charlie's killed! I'm sure he is!"

No second bidding was needed, and in an instant the doctor was holding the little cold hand in his.

"He is not dead, but I doubt he is seriously hurt;" and he examined carefully the wound, pushing aside the rich waves of hair, some of which he cut off; and having staunched the flow of blood, plastered it up."

66

Now, we must try to bring him round. Don't cry so, Dysie, he will be better presently."

But the "bringing round" proved to be a somewhat difficult task, fully half an hour had elapsed before he opened his eyes, and gazed wonderingly round.

"Now for a cab," said Dr. Leslie, "and you must be taken to Mr. Leland's as speedily as possible."

A vehicle being procured, he was placed in it, the doctor supporting his head.

Very still he lay, with closed eyes and deathly pale face, giving no sign of life save occasional moans.

As for Dysie, he could do nothing but sob; to his childish mind, it was such a dreadful thing to lie so silent and lifeless.

Having previously sent a messenger to apprise the Lelands of the accident, on arriving at the house, Dr. Leslie bore the unfortunate boy indoors, and laid him on a couch.

:

"Charlie! dear Charlie!" cried Mrs. Leland, kissing the white lips, "can't you say one word to me?"

Wearily he opened his eyes, and faintly smiled.

"Does your head pain you, dear?"

"Don't alarm yourself, Mrs. Leland, he is stunned and faint. Let him be put to bed at once, and I will fetch a cooling draught for him. I'll carry him upstairs, if you will direct me," taking the slight figure in his arms.

He returned very soon, and having administered the draught, declared that his young patient must be left to sleep.

"I shall stay and watch over him," said Mrs. Leland. "Audrey, fetch my needlework, and ask your papa to write a note to the Precentor about Charlie's accident."

66

"The Precentor is below, in the drawing-room with papa," replied Audrey. On learning the particulars from Dysie, who gave a glowing account of his friend's heroism, Canon Norris exclaimed: Brave boy! What a noble act; but Ellis is nobility itself, so there is really nothing to surprise one in his deed. Tell him when he wakes, he is not to trouble in the least about his singing, and that when he is able to talk I will come and see him. I must go now and tell Dr. Westwood; possibly, either Arthur Melville, or you, my little Dysie, may have the solos to take for him. Tell Charlie not to worry, I will be down again this evening."

Meanwhile, the object of his solicitude was calmly sleeping the sleep of a wearied child, while the mother of Dysie sat beside his couch.

Once she raised her head, and gazed pityingly at the sweet, pale face, until tears blinded her sight. How deeply she pitied, and how tenderly she loved him, this gentle, heroic boy, who had risked his own lifeto save that of another, and was now suffering for his heroism.

For three hours he slept, then became restless, and finally awoke. In an instant Mrs. Leland was by his side, in her soft, low accents enquiring how he felt.

Oh, I

"A little better, thank you," responded he; "only my head aches very badly. Why does it ache so? remember the horse-and that poor child. know whether or not it was hurt; I was so confused I forget?"

"It was not hurt, dear."

Do you

"What a good thing. I am so glad. I'm afraid I shall not get to the cathedral this afternoon, I feel so dizzy."

"You are not to try, my dear; the Precentor has called, and you are to lie still, and be taken care of."

"How good of him; still I'd rather go if I were able." "We know that; but as you are not able, you must be content to lie still. I shall not allow you to have your own way, Charlie; you must submit to me, and be very tractable," said she, playfully; "you are my patient, and I shall expect my orders obeyed without demur."

Charlie smiled, a smile full of affection and confidence, and said: "I will be tractable, Mrs. Leland, and your orders shall be obeyed."

"Very well, my dear," returned she; "I am glad to find you so sensible."

During the course of the evening, came the Precentor again, and finding an amendment in the boy, stayed a long time chatting with him; telling him how that Melville had taken the anthem for him, and had done justice to it, and impressing upon him the necessity for keeping quiet until he had regained his strength.

"A woman called upon me this afternoon," he said, "and told me, a boy, she heard-a cathedral boy-had saved the life of her child; but that he himself had been badly hurt. I told her about you, and that we hoped the wound would not prove serious. She also asked me to convey her heartfelt thanks to you, and asked permission to call again at the precentory for information respecting you. Poor woman! she was much affected, and said several times: But for that dear, brave boy, I must have seen my child brought home dead; I shall always bless him for his courage, and may God bless him too.'"

6

"Please, sir, will you kindly tell her, I don't think I'm hurt much, it's only my head that has a little cut on it, and there's nothing for which to thank me, I'm only glad I was at hand to save the poor little thing. It is a great deal better that I should have a gash on my head, than that her child should have been killed."

"I think so too," returned the clergyman, "and I will deliver your message. Now, remember, rest content, and don't come until you feel able. I shall leave you in Mrs. Leland's charge. Should nothing occur to prevent, I will call again to-morrow and see you; so for the present, good-night."

CHAPTER XXIII.

RETURN TO DUTY.

W

HY, Charlie! this little affair has made you quite a lion in Norstone; the city is fairly ringing with your name. I heard it on all sides this morning, and had endless enquiries after your welfare," said Mr. Leland, seating himself by the boy's side.

It was the morning after the accident, and on a couch, his head supported by soft cushions, lay Charlie, still pale, but looking decidedly better.

How cosy and comfortable appeared the drawing-room, this cold wintry day, with its bright fire; while, near at hand sat Mrs. Leland, book in hand, prepared to read for her young invalid's diversion; still, for all his comforts Charlie would rather have been out in the cold. Like most boys, enforced inactivity was painful to him.

"I can't see what there is to make so much about," returned he; 66 any one else might have done the same. If I had left the child to be run over, it would have been very inhuman. I think they are making a great deal more fuss over it than necessary. If they say anything to me, I'm sure I shall not know what answer to give,

R