CHAPTER XIII

Dead and Alive Again

BERT was crouching on the bed close to his sister when the doctor came into the room. Dead or alive, Prin was Prin, and Bert felt no awe of her. He was bending over her, and his tears were dropping on her forehead. The doctor took hold of him forcibly and lifted him from the bed.

"Come, this won't do," he said. "You must not give way. Just let me have a look at her. It's all over, they tell me."

Bert made no reply, having no voice at his command. Dr. Hurst touched Prin's still form, straightened it, and laid his hand on her heart. Then he uttered a startled cry.

"She lives yet! I can feel her heart beat. Quick, boy, give me the brandy, quick!"

There was but a small quantity at hand. The doctor succeeded in pouring it all down his patient's throat; then he called to Bert for water. The boy flew to fetch it, and to his joy met the nurse at the door. She had come in time, not to lay out the dead, but to help to revive the living.

Doctor and nurse worked together in breathless excitement for some minutes. Their efforts were rewarded. Hope grew as they worked, till, after about a quarter of an hour, the girl drew a deep, natural breath, and opened her eyes.

"She will live," whispered the doctor; and Bert caught the words, and ran out of the room, that he might sob freely.

The nurse sat up with the patient that night, for her weakness was extreme, and she might yet slip away if she were not assiduously cared for. But the hours of the night brought no relapse, and the morning found Prin better.

"She'll do now," said Dr. Hurst, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "It's the narrowest escape I ever saw. If I had come in a minute later, it might have been too late.

"Don't you be in such a hurry to jump to conclusions another time, young man," he added, as he turned to Bert; "but there! We'll hope there'll be no more times such as this."

Bert devoutly hoped so too. Yet thankful as he was that Prin was restored to life, there was a burden on the boy's mind as he thought of the future.

"Will the police want her now, sir?" he asked anxiously of the doctor.

"Ah, the police!" said Dr. Hurst, looking grave. "That is a bad business. So, she was only a sham princess after all!"

"Of course she was never a real one," said Bert.

"Ah! But she might have been!" said the doctor. "'Tis only noble to be good. Every good, true woman is of royal lineage, no matter who her parents were."

"And Prin was not good and true," said Bert sadly; "I will never call her Princess again."

"Don't say that," said Dr. Hurst; "she may be worthy of the title yet. She has life before her, and may live to be thankful for the fall which taught her the misery of wrong-doing. Do you know, lad, there is a ladder by which men and women may climb upwards, and the rungs of that ladder are formed of the mistakes and sins of the past? It is painful climbing for most of us; but she is young, and it will be easier for her."

"Oh, I hope so," said Bert, only half-grasping the meaning of the doctor's words.

Just then there was a rap on the door. Bert ran to open it. A gentleman stood in the narrow space at the foot of the steps. His bearing was such that he looked strangely out of place in that dingy spot, and catching sight of him, the doctor hastened forward.

"Is there not a girl lying dead here whose name was Sinclair?" he asked, with some hesitation of manner.

"Not dead, sir!" cried Bert excitedly. "She's come to life again."

"Indeed!" said the gentleman, in amazement. "A police officer called at my house last night and told me she was dead."

Then the doctor stepping out and closing the door behind him, lest their words should reach the ears of his patient, began to explain Bert's extraordinary statement.

The gentleman listened in astonishment. "I should have thought the policeman might have known," he said.

"So should I," said the doctor; "but—" He shrugged his shoulders expressively.

"Well, I am glad the poor girl still lives," said the gentleman. "Can I see her?"

The doctor shook his head. "I dare not risk the effect of excitement," he said.

"No doubt you are right," said the gentleman. "I must wait till another time. I am Lord Ravenscourt. The policeman brought me last night the diamond brooch found here, which the girl stole from my daughter."

He spoke quietly and sadly.

"Oh, sir!" broke in Bert, who stood between them, his tones quivering with emotion. "Please don't send Prin to prison! She's so sorry now that she took the brooch. She told me last night, before she died, as I thought, how sorry she was, and begged me to take the brooch back to Lady Millicent and ask her to forgive her. Oh, sir, will you ask Lady Millicent to forgive Prin? And if some one must go to prison, please let it be me!"

For a moment Lord Ravenscourt did not reply. Tears seemed to be glistening in his eyes when he said very gently,—

"Do not be afraid, my boy. Neither you nor your sister shall go to prison. But it is not in my power to give your message to Lady Millicent. She is in heaven. She passed away last evening."

"Last evening! And it was at that time that Prin had believed that she had a visit from Lady Millicent!" Bert marvelled; but he could not speak of that which was in his mind.

There was a silence which appeared long to all three, though it lasted only a few moments. Then Lord Ravenscourt said, speaking with an effort: "You may assure your sister of Lady Millicent's forgiveness. She loved her to the last, although she made such a base return for her love. It was the discovery of that which hastened my daughter's end. But we will not speak of it. Lady Millicent asked me to tell your sister that she forgave her and hoped to meet her in heaven. A week ago my daughter made her little will. She wanted to leave your sister the diamond brooch, because she knew how much she admired it; but I persuaded her that it would not be a suitable bequest, and a sum of money was substituted, to be spent on the girl's education."

Lord Ravenscourt paused abruptly. He became aware that he was speaking to a larger audience than he had imagined. Children were swarming on the pavement and hanging over the railings of the area. Women stood in the doorway above his head; others leaned out of the windows of the house. From every possible point of view, persons of more or less doubtful respectability were watching the strange gentleman, and straining their ears to hear what he was saying.

"I must go," said Lord Ravenscourt to the doctor. "You will let me know as soon as it is safe to move your patient. We must take her down to the country again. And the boy too. We must see what we can do for him."

Then he hurried up the steps, the crowd scattering to right and left at his approach, sprang into his hansom, and drove away.

"You may consider your fortune made, young man," said the doctor gleefully, as he and Bert went back into the room. Lord Ravenscourt's coming was to prove a good thing for him also, but that he could not foresee.

His foresight concerning the children proved true. Lord Ravenscourt was a good friend to them for his daughter's sake. Bert never knew again what it was to be lonely and ragged and hungry.

Prin's repentance was genuine. As she regained health and strength, her life was lived on a higher level. Her feet were on the ladder the top of which reaches to heaven, and she was seeking to follow in the steps of Lady Millicent, who had followed Christ.

Bert from time to time had good news of his old friend, Mr. Corney, or, as he now signed his letters, "Cornelius Theophilus Grant." His hopes for his sister were fulfilled, and she too was climbing the ladder and trampling under foot the sins of the past, strengthened by the Mighty Friend, whose hand she grasped as she toiled upward.

Bert could never forget the experiences of his childhood, nor lose his vivid consciousness of the evil that ruins human lives. His strongest desire as he grew up was to fight that evil—the evil within as well as that without—trusting for the victory to Him, whose is the "kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever."

THE END.

Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.