"But there's blood on your wristband," cried the mother. "You are
hurt!"

"No; it's not mine. I didn't know it. It is from the poor fellow I
helped to carry into the public-house at Knoll, just this side
Backsworth, a good deal hurt, I'm afraid. Something had got on the
lines, I believe. I was half asleep, and knew nothing till I found
ourselves all crushed up together in the dark, upside-down, my feet
above my head. There was but one man in my carriage, and we didn't
get foul of one another, and found we were all right, when we
scrambled out of the window. So we helped out the others, and found
that, besides the engineer and stoker--who I don't suppose can live,
poor fellows!--there was only this man much damaged. Then, when
there seemed no more to be done, I took my bag and walked across
country, to reach home before you heard. But oh, this is worth
anything!"

He had to bend down for another embrace from his mother whose heart
was very full as she held his bright young healthful face between
her hands, though all she said was, "You have walked eleven miles
and more! You must be half starved!--Anne, my dear, pray let him
have something. He can eat it here."

"I'll see," said Anne, hastening away.

"Oh, don't go, Lenore," cried Frank, springing up. "Stay, I've not
seen you!--Mother, how sweet of you! But I forgot! You don't know!
I was only waiting till I was through."