"My poor boy," she said to Ned, "he is in the parlor; he has just been asking for you. I am glad you have come. Your mother is in hysterics in her bedroom, and is going on like a mad woman. You must be calm, dear, for your father's sake."

Ned gave a little nod, and, taking his brother's hand, opened the door of the parlor.

Captain Sankey was lying on the hearth rug, his head propped up with pillows from the sofa; his face was an ashen pallor, and his eyes were closed. The doctor was kneeling beside him, pouring some liquid from a glass between his lips. A strong friendship had sprung up between the two men, and tears were running fast down the doctor's cheeks. He motioned to the boys to approach. They fell on their knees by their father's side.

"Sankey," the doctor said in a steady voice, "here are your boys, Ned and Charlie."

The eyes of the dying man opened slowly, and he looked at his sons, and Ned felt a slight pressure of the hand which he had taken in his own.

"God bless you, my boys!" he said, in a faint whisper. "Ned, be kind to your mother; care for her always. She will need all your kindness."