Alured’s thirteenth birthday was on the 10th of January, and he had extracted a promise from Fulk, to take him duck-shooting to the mouth of our little river.

Nothing can be prettier than our tide river by day, with the retreating banks overhung with trees, the long-legged herons standing in the firs, looking like toys in a German box; while the breadth of blue water reflects the trees that bend down to it.

But, on a winter’s night, to creep in perfect silence and lie still under an overhanging bank, not daring to make a sound, till you could get a shot at the ducks disporting themselves in the moonlight, on the frozen mud on the banks!  Such an occupation could only be endurable under the name of sport.

However, Fulk and Bertram had had their time, and now Alured was having the infection in his turn; but Trevor was driven over to spend the day, much mortified that he had a bad broken chilblain, which made his boots unwearable, and it was the more disappointing, that it was a very hard frost, and there was a report that some wild swans had been seen on the river.

But in the course of the day Jaquetta routed out a pair of India rubber boots which, with worsted stockings beneath, did not press the chilblains at all, and after having spent all the day in snow-balling and building forts, Trevor declared himself far from lame, and resolved not to lose the fun.  He had not come equipped, so Alured put him into an old grey coat and cap of his own, and merrily they started in the frosty moonlight, with dashes of snow lying under the hedges, and everything intensely light.  Fulk grumbling in fun at being dragged away from his warm fire, and pretending to be grown old, the boys shouting to one another full of glee, all the dogs in the yard clamouring because only the wise old retriever, Captain, was allowed to be of the party; Arthur Cradock making ridiculous mistakes on purpose between the uncle and nephew, Trevorsham and Sham Trevor, as he called them.

Alas!  Nay, shall I say alas, or only be thankful?

They had been gone some time when we heard a rapid tread coming towards the porch.  Something in the very sound thrilled Jaquetta and me at once with dismay.  We darted out, and saw Brand, the head gamekeeper in the park.

“Never fear, my lady; thank God,” he said, “my lord is quite safe.  It is poor Master Lea who is hurt; and Mr. Torwood sent me up for some brandy, and a mattress, and a lantern, and some cloths.”

That assured us that he was alive, and we ran to fulfil the request in the utmost haste, without asking further questions, and sending off Sisson to ride for the poor mother, and to go on to Shinglebay for the doctor, though, to our comfort, we knew that Arthur had almost finished his surgical education, and was sure to know what was to be done.

“A stray shot,” we said again and again to each other; and we called Nurse Rowe, and made up a bed in Alured’s old nursery, and lighted a fire, and were all ready, with hearts beating heavy with suspense before the steps came back ­my poor Alured first, as we held the door open.  How pale his face looked! and his brows were drawn with horror, and his steps dragging, saying not a word, but trembling, as he came and held by me, with one hand on my waist, while Fulk and Sisson carried in the mattress, Arthur Cradock at the side, and Perrault, who had joined them, walking behind with the flask.

Dear Trevor lay white with sobbing breath and closed eyes, the cloths and mattress soaked through and through with blood.  They put him down on the keeping-room table, and Arthur poured more brandy into his mouth.

I said something of the room being ready but Arthur said very low “He is dying ­internal bleeding;” and when Jaquetta asked “Can nothing be done?” he answered, “Nothing but to leave him still.”

“Trevorsham,” murmured the feeble voice, and Alured was close to him; “Ally! you are all right!” and then again, as Alured assured him he would be better ­ “No, I shan’t; I’m so glad it wasn’t you.  I always thought he’d do it some day, and now you’re quite safe, I want to thank God.”

We did not understand those words then; we did soon.

The weak voice rambled on, “to thank God; but oh, it hurts so ­I can’t ­I will when I get there.”  Then presently “Mother!”

“She’ll come very soon,” said Alured.

“Mother! oh, mother!  Trevorsham, don’t let them know.  O Trev, promise, promise!”

“Promise what?  I promise, whatever it is!  Only tell me,” entreated Alured.

“Take care of her ­of mother.  Don’t let ­” and then his eyes met Perrault’s, and a shudder came all over him, which brought the end nearer; and all another spoonful of brandy could do was to enable him to say something in Alured’s ear, and then a broken word or two ­“forgive ­glad ­pray;” and when we all knelt and Fulk did say the Lord’s Prayer, and a verse or two more, there was a peaceful loving look at Fulk and Jaquetta and me, and then the whisper of the Name that is above every name, as a glad brightness came over the face, and the eyes looked upwards, and so grew set in their gaze, and there was the sound one never can forget.

Nurse Rowe laid her hand on Alured’s neck, as he knelt with his head close to Trevor’s.  Fulk and I looked at each other, and we knew that all was over.

They had tried in vain to check the bleeding.  No one could have done more than Arthur had done, but a main artery had been injured, and nothing could have saved him.  He had said nothing after the first cry, except when he saw Alured’s grief.  “Never mind; I’m glad it was not you.”  And once or twice, as they carried him home, he had begged to be put down, though they durst not attend to the entreaty, and Arthur did not think he had suffered much pain.

It jarred that just as we would have knelt for one silent prayer, Perrault’s voice broke on us.  “Ah! poor boy, it is better than if it lasted longer!  I saw that half-witted fellow, Billy Blake about.  So I don’t wonder at anything; but of course it was a mere accident, and I shall not press it.”

Scarcely hearing him, I had joined Mrs. Rowe in the endeavour to detach Alured from his dear companion, when there was poor Hester among us, with open horror-stricken eyes, and a wild, frightful shriek as she leapt forward; and no words can describe the misery of her voice as she called on her boy to look at her, and speak to her ­gathering him into her bosom with a passionate, desperate clasp, that seemed almost an outrage on the calm awful stillness of the innocent child; and Alured involuntarily cried, “Oh, don’t,” while Fulk spoke to her kindly; but just then she saw her husband, and sprang on her feet, her eyes flashing, her hands stretched out, while she screamed out, “You here?  You dare to come here?  You, who killed him!” Fulk caught her arm, saying, “Hush!  Hester; come away.  It was a lamentable accident, but ­”

“Oh!” the laugh she gave was the most horrible thing I ever heard.  “Accident!  I tell you it has been his one thought to make accidents for Trevorsham!  And he hated my child ­my dear, noble, beautiful, only one!  He made him miserable, and murdered him at last!”

She gave another passionate kiss to the cheeks, and then just as I hoped she was going to let us lead her away, she darted from us, rushed past Mr. Cradock who was entering the porch, and in another moment, he hurrying after her, saw her rush down the steep grassy slope, and fling herself into the swollen rapid stream.

His shout brought them all out, and Fulk found him too in the river, holding her, and struggling with the stream, which winter had made full and violent, and the black darkness of the shadows made it hard to find any landing place, and he was nearly swept away before it was possible to get them out of the river; and Fulk was as completely drenched as he was when they brought poor Hester, quite unconscious, up to the house, and brought her to the room that had been prepared for her son; and there Dr. Brown and Arthur gave us plenty to do in filling hot-water baths and warming flannels, or rubbing the icy hands and feet.  Only that constant need of exertion could have borne us through the horror of it all.  But it was not over yet.  There was a call of “Ursula,” and as I ran down, I found Fulk standing at the bottom of the stairs with Alured in his arms looking like death!

“I found him on the parlour sofa, the little window and the escritoire open!” Fulk said breathlessly, “the villain!”

“I’m not hurt,” said dear Alured’s voice, faintly, but reassuringly, “Oh! put me down, Fulk.”

We did put him down on the floor ­there was no other place ­with his head on my lap, and I found strange voices asking him what Perrault had done to him.  “Oh! nothing! ’twasn’t that.  Yes, he’s gone, out by the window.”

He swallowed some wine and then sat up, leaning against me as I sat at the bottom of the stairs, quite himself again, and assuring us that he was not hurt; Perrault never touched him ­“Threatened you, then,” said Fulk.

“No,” said Alured, as if he hadn’t spirit to be indignant; “I meant him to get off.”

“Lord Trevorsham!” cried a voice in great displeasure, and I saw that Mr. Halsted, the nearest magistrate, was standing over us.

“He told me ­Trevor did” ­said Alured.

“Told you to assist the murderer to escape!” exclaimed Mr. Halsted.

Alured let his head fall back, and would not answer, and Fulk said, “There is no need for him to speak at present, is there?  The constable and the rest are gone after Perrault, but I do not yet know what has directed the suspicion against him.”

And then at the stair foot, for there was no other place to go to, we came to an understanding, the two gentlemen and Brand the keeper standing, and I seated on the step with my boy lying against me.  I could not trust him out of my sight, nor, indeed, was he fit to be left.

It seems that Brand had been uneasy about the number of shooters whom the report of the swans had attracted; and though the bank of the river was not Trevorsham ground, he had kept along on the border of the covers higher up the hill, to guard his hares and pheasants.

Thus he had seen everything distinctly in the moonlight against the snowy bank below; and he had observed one figure in particular, moving stealthily along, in a parallel line with that which he knew our party would take, though they were in shadow, and he could not see them.

Suddenly, a chance shot fired somewhere made all the ducks fly up.  A head and shoulders that Brand took for his young lord’s, appeared beyond the shadow, beside Fulk’s; and, at the same moment, he saw the man whom he had been watching level his gun from behind, and fire.  Then came the cry, and Brand running down in horror himself, was amazed to see this person doing the same, and when they came up with the group, he recognised Perrault; and found, at the same time, that Trevor was the sufferer, and that Lord Trevorsham was safe.  He then would have thought it an accident, but for Perrault’s own needless wonder, whence the shot came, and that same remark, that Billy Blake, the half-witted son of a farmer, was about that night.

Brand, a shrewd fellow, restrained his reply, that Mr. Perrault knew most about it himself.  He saw that the most pressing need was to obey Fulk in fetching necessaries from our house, and that Perrault meant to disarm suspicion by treating it as an accident, so he thought it best to go off to a magistrate with his story, before giving any alarm; feeling certain, as he said, that the shot had been meant for the Earl; as indeed, Perrault’s first exclamation on coming up showed that he too had expected to find Trevorsham the wounded one.

Mr. Halsted had sent for the constable and came at once, though even then inclined to doubt whether Brand had not imputed accident to malice.  But Perrault’s flight had settled that question.  During the confusion, while Hester was being carried upstairs, the miscreant had the opportunity of speaking to the child.

“Drowned!  No, she is not drowned; but she may be the other thing if you don’t get me off!  What, don’t you understand?  Let the law lay a finger on me, and what is to hinder me from telling how your sweet sister has been plotting to get you ­yes, you, out of the way of her darling.  No, you needn’t fear, there’s nothing to get by it now.  Lucky for you you brought the poor boy out, when I thought him safe by the fire nursing his chilblain.  But mind this, if I am arrested, all the story shall come out.  I’ll not swing alone.  If I fired, she pointed the gun!  And you may judge if that was what poor Trevor meant by his mutterings to you about ‘mother.’”

“But what do you want?” Alured asked.  He had backed up against the wall; he was past being frightened, but he felt numb and sick with horror, and ready to do anything to get the wretch out of his sight.

“I want a clear way out of the house and all the cash you can get together.  What! no more than that?  I’d not be a lord to be kept so short.  Find me some more.”

Alured knew I should forgive him, and he took my key from my basket, unlocked the escritoire, and gave him my purse of household money, undid the shutters, and helped Perrault to squeeze himself through the little parlour window; and then, as he said, something came over him, and he just reached the sofa, and knew no more.

He did not tell all this about Hester before Mr. Halsted; only when Fulk, finding how shaken he was, had carried him upstairs, and we had taken him to his room, he asked anxiously whether anyone had heard Hester say that dreadful thing, and added, “Then if Mr. Perrault gets away no one will know ­about her.”

“Was that why you helped him?” we asked.

“Trevor told me to take care of her,” he said; and then he told us of Perrault’s arguments, but we ought not to have let him talk of them that night, for it brought back the shuddering and sobbing, and the horror seemed to come upon him, so that there was no soothing him or getting him calm till the doctor mixed an anodyne draught; and let it go as it would with Hester, I never left my boy till I had crooned him to sleep, as in the old times.