'He must have time; he is simply stunned and incapable of thought now,'

he said to himself, as he piloted him through the dark, wet streets.

Biddy admitted them. She gave them a searching glance as they entered.

Cyril's disordered condition must have told her everything, for she put her wrinkled, claw-like hand on his arm with a warning gesture.

'Don't let the mistress see you like that, Mr. Cyril avick, or you'll fright her to death. Go up softly, or she will hear you.'

But Biddy's warning was in vain. The staircase was badly lighted, and Michael made a false, stumbling step. The next moment Mrs. Blake came out on the landing. The sight of the two men together seemed to transfix her with horror.

'You have told him!--oh, heavens! you have told him!' she cried, in a despairing voice.

Cyril raised his heavy eyes and looked at her, but he did not speak; he pa.s.sed her as he had pa.s.sed Audrey, and went up to his room, and they heard the door close heavily behind him.

'I will go to him! How dare you detain me, Captain Burnett? I will go to my son!'

But Michael took no notice of this angry remonstrance; his hand was on her arm, and very gently, but firmly, he made her enter the drawing-room.

'Mrs. Blake, will you listen to me for a moment?'

'No, I will not listen!' she answered pa.s.sionately, and her bosom began to heave. 'I will go to him and make him speak to me. Did you see how he looked at me--his mother--as he has never looked at me in his life?' And the unhappy woman broke into tears and sobs. 'Oh, my boy! my boy! Let me go to him, Captain Burnett, and I will bless you as long as I live; let me go and kneel to him, if I must. Do you think my boy will see his mother at his feet and not forgive her?'

'He will forgive you, Mrs. Blake,' returned Michael, in a pitying voice; 'but you must give him time. He cannot speak to you now--he can speak to no one; he is simply stunned. Give me your promise that you will not see him to-night.'

'Impossible! I will make no such promise. He is my son, not yours. If he cannot speak to me, I can at least take his hand and tell him that I am sorry.'

'He will not be able to hear you. As far as I can tell, he has taken nothing in; the news has simply crushed him. If you will give him time, he will pull himself together; but I would not answer for the consequences if you persist in seeing him to-night. He is not himself.

There would be words said that ought never to be uttered. Mrs. Blake, do be persuaded. I am speaking for your sake as well as his.'

'You are always so hard,' she moaned.

But from her manner he thought she would not disobey him; he had managed to frighten her.

'You will be wise if you take my advice,' he returned, moving away from the door. 'I am going to him now, but I shall not stay; it is, above all things, necessary that he should be alone.'

'Will you speak to him for me? Will you tell him that my heart is nearly broken with that cold, reproachful look of his? Will you at least say this, Captain Burnett?'

'I think it would be better not to mention your name to him to-night.'

Then she threw herself back on the couch in a hysterical outburst.

Michael thought it useless to stay with her. He found Biddy outside as usual, and sent her in to do her best for her mistress; and then he went up to Cyril's room. He found him sitting on the edge of his bed; the window was wide open, and the rain was driving in, and had already wetted the carpet; a candle someone had lighted was guttering in the draught. Michael closed the window, and then he looked at the fireplace.

There was plenty of fuel at hand. Cyril often worked in his own room, and now and then his mother's care had provided him with a fire. The room felt cold and damp. There were matches at hand, and Michael had no scruple in lighting a fire now; the crackle of wood seemed to rouse Cyril.

'Why do you do that? there is no need,' he said irritably.

'Pardon me, there is every need. Do you know your coat is wet, Blake?

You must change it at once.'

But Cyril only gave an impatient shrug.

'Will you let me see you change it before I go?' he persisted, and he actually had his way, perhaps because Cyril was anxious to get rid of him. 'Now I am going; I only want to say one word, Blake: you will be safe to-night, your mother will not come near you.' Then a look of relief crossed Cyril's wan face. 'You shall, at least, have peace for a few hours. If I can help you in any way, you have only to speak. Will you remember that?'

'Thank you.'

'I mean it. There, that is all I have got to say. G.o.d bless you!' and as he grasped Cyril's hand there was a faint response.

Michael crept down as softly as he could. As he pa.s.sed the drawing-room door he could hear Mrs. Blake's hysterical sobs, and Biddy soothing her.

'The Nemesis has come,' he said to himself; and then he went into the lower room, where he found Mollie and Kester reading over the fire.

'Don't let me disturb you,' he said hurriedly, as they both sprang up to greet him; 'Mollie, your brother wishes to be quiet to-night. He has just heard something that troubles him a good deal, and he has desired that no one should go near him. If I were you, I should take no notice at all.'

'But what are we to do about supper?' returned Mollie with housewifely anxiety; 'we have such a nice supper, and Cyril will be so cold and hungry shut up in his room. We have made such a big fire, because he was going to spend the evening with us.'

'He has a fire, too; he was very wet, and the room felt damp, so I lighted it. You might take up a tray to him presently and put it outside his door, and perhaps a cup of nice hot coffee.'

'Ah! I will go and make it at once, and mamma shall have some, too.' And Mollie ran off in her usual impetuous manner, but Kester sat still in his place.

'What is the matter, Captain Burnett?' he asked anxiously; 'we heard mother crying just now, and saying that Cyril would not speak to her.

Mollie heard it quite plainly, and so did I.'

'You shall know all in good time, my dear boy,' returned Michael, laying his hand on Kester's shoulder; 'do not ask me any more just now.'

Kester looked at him wistfully, but he was trained to self-discipline, and he asked no more; and Michael went back to Woodcote.

It was just dinner-time, and the gong sounded before he was ready; but he made some easy excuse and slipped into his place, and began to talk to Dr. Ross about the new swimming-baths that were being built. It was the first topic that came handy to him, and Dr. Ross at once followed his lead; the subject lasted them until the end of dinner. Audrey was unusually silent, but neither of them made any remark on her gravity.

Now and then Michael addressed some observation to her, but she answered him briefly and without interest.

They went into the schoolroom for prayers as usual, and Audrey played the harmonium; but as he was following Mrs. Ross back into the drawing-room, Audrey tapped him on the arm.

'Don't go in there just yet, Michael; I want to speak to you.'

Then he suffered himself very reluctantly to be detained by the hall fire.

'Michael,' she began, in rather a peremptory tone, 'I cannot understand either you or Cyril to-night. You are both very strange, I think. Cyril leaves me without a word, and goes out looking like a ghost, and you tell me that something is troubling him, and yet neither of you vouchsafes me one word of explanation.'

'I cannot help it, Audrey; it is not my affair. Blake was in a hurry; you must have seen that for yourself.'

'He was very extraordinary in his behaviour, and so were you. Of course, if you don't choose to answer me, Michael, I will just send a note across to Cyril, and tell him I must see him at once.'

'I should hardly do that, if I were you.'

'Not write to him!' in an offended voice. 'Really, Michael, you are too mysterious; why, this borders on absurdity! Cyril is in trouble--in one breath you tell me that--and then you would prevent my writing to ask him to come to me! I shall certainly write to him.'

'Will you go to your father instead? He has just gone into the study.'

Then Audrey looked at him with intense astonishment.

'What has my father got to do with it?'