The news of Frank's death—or supposed death—was a terrible shock to Mrs. Craven. She was of a nervous organization, and her attachment to her son was the greater because he was her only child. She felt that after his death she would have nothing left worth living for. All her future plans and prospects of happiness were connected with him. Her husband, as we know, was nothing to her. She had married him partly because she thought he might be useful to Frank.

"I wish I could die, Katy," she wailed, addressing her faithful attendant.

In this hour of her affliction, Katy was nearer to her than Mr. Craven.

"Don't say that, missis," said Katy, sobbing herself the while.

"What have I to live for, now that my poor boy is dead?" And she indulged in a fresh outburst of grief. "My heart is broken, Katy."

"So is mine, mum—broke right in two!" answered Katy, sympathetically.

"To think that my poor boy should have met with such a terrible death."

"He never knew what hurt him, mum. That's one comfort."

"But I shall never see him again, Katy," said the poor mother, sobbing.

"Yes, you will, mum—in heaven."

"Then I hope I shall go there soon. Oh, I wish I had never let him go."

"So do I, mum. He was so bright when he went away, poor lad. He little thought what was coming."

It was a comfort to Mrs. Craven in her distress to speak to Katy, whose devotion she knew. To Mr. Craven she did not feel like speaking much. She knew that Frank had never liked him, and this closed her lips. She even, poor woman, accused herself for marrying again, since, had she not done so, Frank would not have gone abroad, and would still be spared to her.

Mr. Craven wisely kept out of the way for a time. He wanted to introduce business matters, and so carry out the concluding portion of his arrangement, but he felt that it would be impolitic to do it at once. Mrs. Craven was in no frame of mind to give attention to such things. He could wait, though it was irksome to do so.

Several days passed. Mrs. Craven's sharp sorrow had given way to a dull feeling of utter despondency. She kept to her room the greater part of the time, looking as if she had just emerged from a lengthened sickness. Mr. Craven wandered about the village, suppressing his good spirits with difficulty when he was at home, and assuming an expression of sympathetic sadness. But, when by himself, he would rub his hands and congratulate himself on the near accomplishment of his plans.

One day, when matters were in this state of depression, Ben Cameron knocked at the door. He had received Frank's letter, and had come over at once to deliver his message.

The door was opened by Katy, who knew Ben well as the most intimate friend of our hero.

"Oh, Ben, we've had bad news," said Katy, wiping her eyes.

"Yes, I've heard it," said Ben. "How is Mrs. Craven?"

"Poor lady! she's struck down wid grief. It's killin' her. She doted on that boy."

"Can I see her?" asked Ben.

"She don't feel like seein' anybody."

"I think she'll see me, because I was Frank's friend."

"May be she will. She know'd you was always intimate friends."

"Is Mr. Craven at home?"

"No. Did you want to see him?"

"No. I wanted to see Mrs. Craven alone."

"You don't like him no better'n I do," said Katy.

"I hate him!" exclaimed Ben, energetically, bearing in mind Frank's suspicions that Mr. Craven was concerned in the attack upon him.

"Good on your head!" said Katy, whose manners and education did not preclude her making occasional use of the slang of the day. "I'll go up and see if my missis will see you."

She returned almost immediately.

"Come right up," she said. "She'll be glad to see Frank's friend."

When Ben entered the room where Mrs. Craven, pale and wasted, sat in a rocking-chair, she burst into tears. The sight of Ben brought her boy more vividly to mind.

"How do you do, Mrs. Craven?" said Ben.

"My heart is broken, Benjamin," she answered, sadly. "You have heard of my poor boy's death?"

"Yes, I have heard of it."

"You were his friend. You know how good he was."

"Yes, Frank is the best fellow I know," said Ben, warmly.

"You say is. Alas! you forget that he is no more."

Katy had descended to the kitchen. Ben looked cautiously around him.

"Mrs. Craven," he said, "can you keep a secret?"

She looked surprised.

"Yes," she answered, faintly.

"I am going to tell you something which must be kept secret for awhile. Can you bear good news? Frank is alive!"

"Alive!" exclaimed the mother, jumping from her chair, and fixing her eyes imploringly, almost incredulously, on her visitor.

"Yes. Don't be agitated, Mrs. Craven. I have received a letter from him."

"Is it true? Oh, tell me quickly. Didn't he fall over the precipice?"

"Yes, he fell, but it was on a soft spot, and he was saved."

"Heaven be praised! Bless you for bringing such news. Tell me all about it."

Ben told the story in a few words, and then showed the letter. How it eased and comforted the poor mother's heart I need not say. She felt as if life had been restored to her once more.

"You see, Mrs. Craven, that there is need of silence and secrecy. We cannot tell whether Frank's suspicions have any foundation or not. We must wait and see."

"Do you think Mr. Craven could have had anything to do with the wicked plot?" exclaimed Mrs. Craven, indignantly.

"Frank thinks so."

"I will tax him with it. If he framed such a plot he shall answer for it."

"Hush, Mrs. Craven. Remember Frank's wish. It will defeat his plans."

"It is true. I forgot. But how can I live in the same house with a man who sought the life of my poor boy?"

"We are not sure of it."

"Do not fear. I will do as my boy wishes. But I may tell him that I do not think he is dead?"

"Yes, if you give no reason."

"And I should like to tell Katy. She, poor girl, loves Frank almost as much as I do."

"Do you think Katy can keep it secret?"

"Yes, if I ask her to, and tell her it is Frank's wish."

"Then I think you can venture. I will take the letter and destroy it, as Frank wanted me to."

"Don't destroy it. You can keep it where no one will see it."

When Ben went out he told Katy that her mistress wished to see her. She went up, and to her surprise found that Mrs. Craven had thrown open the blind of the hitherto darkened chamber, and actually received her with a smile.

Katy looked bewildered.

"Come here, Katy," said her mistress. Then she whispered in Katy's ear, "Katy, he's alive!"

"What!" exclaimed the handmaiden, incredulously.

"Yes, it's true. He's written to Ben. But you must keep it secret. Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."

"Oh, the ould villain!" was Katy's comment upon the story. "I'd like to wring his neck," meaning Mr. Craven's.

"You must be careful, Katy. He isn't to know we've heard anything."

"But he'll guess from your lavin' off mournin'."

"I'll tell him I have dreamed that my boy escaped."

"That'll do, mum. When will Master Frank be comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope, but now I can wait patiently since Heaven has spared him to me."

When Mr. Craven returned home at the close of the afternoon, he was astonished to hear Katy singing at her work, and to find Mrs. Craven dressed and down stairs, quite self-controlled, though grave. In the morning she was in the depths of despondency, and Katy was gloomy and sad.

"What's up?" he thought.

"My dear," he said, "I am glad that you are bearing your affliction better. It is a terrible loss, but we should be resigned to the will of the Almighty."

"I don't think Frank is dead," answered Mrs. Craven.

"Not think he is dead? I wish there were any chance of your being right, but I cannot encourage you in such a delusion. There is, unhappily, no chance of the poor boy surviving such a fearful accident."

"You may call it foolish, if you will, Mr. Craven, but I have a presentiment that he is alive."

"But, my dear, it is impossible."

"Katy thinks so, too."

Mr. Craven shrugged his shoulders.

"I wish it were true, but there is no hope. You saw my friend's letter?"

"Yes."

"He said there was no hope."

"He thought so. I am firmly convinced that Frank is alive."

Mr. Craven tried to undermine her confidence, but, of course, without avail. He was troubled, for if she continued to cherish this belief she would not take possession of Frank's fortune, and thus he would be cut off from it.