daybreak! How far are we from Norton Bury?"

"Not very far. Don't stir a step. I shall carry you."

"Impossible!"

"Nonsense; I have done it for half-a-mile already. Come, mount! I
am not going to have Jonathan's death laid at David's door."

And so, masking command with a jest, he had his way. What strength
supported him I cannot tell, but he certainly carried me--with many
rests between, and pauses, during which I walked a quarter of a mile
or so--the whole way to Norton Bury.

The light broadened and broadened. When we reached my father's door,
haggard and miserable, it was in the pale sunshine of a summer
morning.

"Thank God!" murmured John, as he set me down at the foot of the
steps. "You are safe at home."

"And you. You will come in--you would not leave me now?"

He thought a moment--then said, "No!"

We looked up doubtfully at the house; there were no watchers there.
All the windows were closed, as if the whole peaceful establishment
were taking its sleep, prior to the early stirring of Norton Bury
households. Even John's loud knocking was some time before it was
answered.