Chapter 74

The sun had been up for a long time, and the old grandmother had the breakfast upon the table. She hadn't called Archie, for she knew the boy's habits, and supposed he was busy with his books as usual, so she helped her son to his hasty meal, and saw him and his trowel and pipe a long distance without the door before she ventured to disturb her grandchild's quiet. Thump, thump, thump, upon the bedroom wall, and not an answering sound, yet, after a moment, there seemed to be a stir, and some words that were not intelligible to her obtuse ear. She didn't wait much longer, but lifted the latch and entered his room.

What ails the boy? His eyes are wild and fierce, and his figure is tossed from side to side of the narrow bed, while he mutters of his mother, and of a sweet lady, and a gentle child; and then he presses a parched hand to his brow, and begs them not to heap up the hot coals there, but to bring him ice, ice; and then he clinches his fist and strikes at the old woman who has approached him to try to calm him, but she has no power over his ravings, and she perceives that he has a terrible fever; and then she remembers that he would go supperless to bed the night before, and that he looked paler and more weary than usual, and she chides herself for not coming earlier to see if he was