picked up and lit a lantern. By its light could be seen Archelaus
holding a bewildered Silly Peter, whose mouth and eyes hung open with
fear, while from his hand depended a stick wrapped in a coat. Even in
that dim light wet marks could be seen on it. The brain of Archelaus,
perhaps stirred to activity by his first inspiration of attack as much
as by the hatred that had suddenly welled up uncontrollably, had for
once worked with a desperate quickness. Everyone stared at one another
over the body of Ishmael that lay huddled on its face in the leaves.

"Help me pick him up, you two," ordered Killigrew to Jacka; "and you
there, go ahead with the light. Who is the fastest runner?"

"I'll go for doctor," said Archelaus. "'Tes my right. He'n my brother."
He boggled a little at the word.

"You!" began Killigrew, then stopped. His quick intuition had told him
how important it was to Archelaus also to be the first to get the
doctor. Killigrew was not a cynic, even at that age; he was merely
supremely utilitarian.

"Off you go," he said, "and remember I shall be timing you. The doctor
must be at Cloom as soon as we are."

"He shall be," declared Archelaus, and meant it. He kept his word. By
the time that Ishmael had been laid beneath the drooping Christ who had
seen so much of passion and misery, of birth and death, in that same bed
spread before Him, the doctor was there too. And round the bed clustered
as many distraught women, and men hovering at their skirts, as gathered
at the foot of the plaster Calvary above. Even the intent dog was not
wanting, as poor Wanda, conscious of disaster to the being she