head and told mother to take me into the next room. She left me with our servant. Poor old Biddy Farrelly! I wonder if she's alive now? She'd been crying as if her heart would break. I guess she'd been listening at the door a bit. Mother went back to father, and I was told to go to bed. I was too excited to sleep much in the first part of the night, and I lay there thinking over all that father had said. I haven't forgotten a word of it, names or any thing, Gerald, and I never shall. Besides, mother and I often talked it all over quietly together; and she told me more that she knew about my father's trial. I didn't see him again. He died in the night, and wouldn't allow me to be called. 'I have bidden Phil good-bye,' he said, 'and I do not want him to forget what I said to him through any other farewell now.' Poor father!"
There was a pause. The clock struck four. It was almost a home-like sound to them now. This solemn story of the past had unconsciously blunted the sharpness of present troubles.
"Laverack and the watchman, Sixmith," repeated Gerald, slowly. "Those two. What
