others all smiled happily as they looked on; but she tried to draw them away, and a bright blush dyed her cheeks as she murmured to me:—
"No! no, Arthur! Arthur dear, not now! I only did what anyone would do for you!" and the tears rushed to her eyes.
"I must! Norah," said I, "I must! for I owe these brave hands my life!" and I kissed them and she made no more resistance. Her father's voice and words sounded very true as he said:—
"Nay, daughter, it is right that he should kiss those hands this blessed mornin', for they took a true man out of the darkness of the grave!"
And then my noble old Dick came over too, and he raised those dear hands reverently to his lips, and said very softly:—
"For he is dear to us all!"
By this time Miss Joyce had breakfast well under weigh, and one and all we thought that it was time we should let the brightness of the day and the lightness of our hearts have a turn; and Joyce said heartily:—
"Come now! Come now! Let us sit down to breakfast; but first let us give thanks to Almighty God that has been so good to us, and let us forgive that poor wretch that met such a horrible death. Rest to his soul!"
We were all silent for a little bit, for the great gladness of our hearts, that came through the terrible remembrance thus brought home to us, was too deep for words. Norah and I sat hand in hand, and between us
