a chair. He was ghastly pale, and shuddered all over.

"Oh, Norman, Norman, speak! What is it?" He groaned, but could not
speak; he rested his head against her, and gasped. She was terribly
frightened. "I'll call--" and she would have gone, but he held her.
"No--no--they can't!" He was prevented from saying more, by
chattering teeth and deadly faintness. She tried to support him, but
could only guide him as he sank, till he lay at full length on the
floor, where she put a pillow under his head, and gave him some
water. "Is it--oh, tell me! Are they much hurt? Oh, try to say!"

"They say Margaret is alive," said Norman, in gasps; "but--And
papa--he stood up--sat--walked--was better-"

"Is he hurt--much hurt?"

"His arm--" and the tremor and fainting stopped him again.

"Mamma?" whispered Ethel; but Norman only pressed his face into the
pillow.

She was so bewildered as to be more alive to the present distress of
his condition than to the vague horrors downstairs. Some minutes
passed in silence, Norman lying still, excepting a nervous trembling
that agitated his whole frame. Again was heard the strange tread,
doors opening and shutting, and suppressed voices, and he turned his
face upwards, and listened with his hand pressed to his forehead, as
if to keep himself still enough to listen.

"Oh! what is the matter? What is it?" cried Ethel, startled and