It was two weeks now since that dreadful afternoon up at Ellismere, and it has been a quiet two weeks for all of our little party. No one has had the heart for very much fun, for Grandma Ellis has been very ill up at Ellismere, and dear old Joe is lying helpless in bed in his own little cabin. After the storm had spent its force they had carried Joe up to the house, and there he had lain unmindful of everything about him for three whole days together. Then, when at last consciousness came back, power to move either right arm or leg did not come with it, and then they learned that poor old Joe was paralysed. As soon as possible after that they moved Joe up to Arlington, for he longed for his own bed and his own familiar cabin. And who do you suppose went up to care for Joe, but Mammy! “If you can spare me. Miss Lindy,” Mammy had said to Grandma Ellis, “I would like to look out for Joe de res’ of his days. I ain’t allers been ober kin’ to dat ole gem’an, an’ I ain’t had no idea what splendid stuff he had in 098him,” and it seemed a very little thing to Grandma Ellis to spare Mammy for the sake of the one who had saved Brevet’s life. That Joe had saved it there was but little question, for the storm had seemed to be at its very height when it reached the island, levelling and demolishing everything upon it. The tent had been carried off bodily, no one knew where, and the little pine trees uprooted lay wedged in the rocks as though pounded in with an anvil, so that it seemed impossible that Brevet could have escaped being hurled into the river, or dashed against the rocks with the same terrible force as the pine trees.

Harry had been unable to bring any one from the stables, for both the men, as it happened, were three miles away at the blacksmith’s, and but for Joe’s instant action, any help would have come too late.

I doubt if Teddy will ever quite forgive Grandma Ellis, or his sister Mary, for forbidding him to join the party in search of Brevet, or ever cease to be thankful that at last, rushing out of the house in spite of all their protests, he was able to render such timely aid.

As for Joe, he accepted his utter helplessness with a beautiful resignation, but there was something on Joe’s mind, and one day he said to Mammy: 099"Would you min’, Mammy, just sendin’ fo’ Miss Courage to come heah for awhile dis ebenin’. I’se somethin’ important ter say ter lier, ‘Tain’t dat I couldn’t trus’ you wid it, Mammy, only you knows dey am times when a ‘spectable cullud pusson seem ter need der advice of a pusson what is born ter a different colour and station.’

“Miss Courage shall be sent for dis bery ebenin’, Joe,” for Mammy had made up her mind that Joe was to be humoured in every particular. And so Courage came, and with Brevet, who had happened to be spending the day at Homespun, for her companion. They stopped to leave the buckboard at the stable, where a young mulatto boy was now doing Joe’s work, and then Brevet asked permission to run on ahead. He had something on his mind, as well as Joe, and he was longing to ask him a question that had just occurred to him the day before, and which had made his little heart very heavy.

“Joe,” he said in an awed whisper, stepping into the cabin and looking quickly about to see if Mammy happened to be out of hearing, “are you asleep, Joe?”

“No, bless your little heart,” and Joe’s old face lighted up with the joy of Brevet’s coming, “I was des habin a bit o’ a day-dream.” 100"Joe,” whispered Brevet, tip-toeing close to his side, “I want you to tell me something. You’re paralysed, you know, Joe.”

“Yes, Honey, I knows.”

“Well, it wasn’t because you went in the river for me, was it, Joe? It just happened to come then, didn’t it, Joe?” in anxious inquiry, and as though to find out that he was responsible for Joe’s illness would be more than he could bear.

“Des happen? o’ course, chile, des happen. Why, des look at me, Honey! I’se pow’ful ole; reckon nobody knows how ole I be,” (which was the truth, for Joe, if he knew himself, had never told any one), “whereas mos’ white-haired cullud pussons is par’Iysed long afore my time o’ life, par’Iysed all over too, not des a sort o’ half par’Iysed like me. No, neber you b’lieve it anythin’ but des happened, no matter what folks say, case you ‘member Joe tol’ you so, an’ I ought ter know, I reckon, better’n anybody.”

It was as though a great shadow had been lifted from Brevet. Courage, wondering how to account for the little fellow’s apparent spiritlessness all day, wondered now, as she entered, at the little illumined face.

“See here, Brevet,” said Joe, smiling a welcome to Courage, “will you look ober de 101place while I’se talkin’ ter Miss Courage. Go up to de house and down ‘roun’ General Sheridan’s grave, an’ my Oder special fav’rites, an’ see if eberythin’ is bein’ kept up ter de handle, case no one knows as well as you, Brevet, how Joe allers like ter hab ‘em kep’.”

Brevet joyously obeyed, proud to be sent on suc............