It was quite late that night before Jerome was at liberty to creep off to his own bed up in the slanting back chamber.

Paulina Maria and Belinda Lamb had gone home, and the bereaved family were all alone in the house.

Jerome's boyish heart ached hard, but he was worn out physically, and he soon fell asleep.
About midnight he awoke with a startling sound in his ears.

He sat up in bed and listened, straining ears and eyes in the darkness.

Out of the night gloom and stillness below came his mother's voice, raised loud and hoarse in half-accusatory prayer, not caring who heard, save the Lord.
"What hast thou done, O Lord ?" demanded this daring and pitiful voice.