Ralph could not sleep, but he tried to lie very still. A half-hour
went by, and then Bachelor Billy stole softly to the bed and looked
down into the lad's face. He was still awake.
"Have you got your pipe smoked out, Uncle Billy?" he asked.
"Yes, lad; I ha' just finished it."
"Then are you comin' to bed now?"
"I thocht to. Do ye want for anything?"
"Oh, no! I'm all right."
The man began to prepare for bed.
After a while Ralph spoke.
"Uncle Billy!"
"What is it, lad?"
"I've been thinkin', s'pose this suit should go against us, do you
b'lieve Mrs. Burnham would do anything more for me?"
"She's a gude woman, Ralph. Na doot she'd care for ye; but ye could
na hope to have her tak' ye to her hame, an they proved ye waur no'
her son."
"An' then--an' then I'd stay right along with you, wouldn't I?"
"I hope so, lad, I hope so. I want ye s'ould stay wi' me till ye find
a better place."
"Oh, I couldn't find a better place to stay, I know I couldn't, 'xcept
with my--'xcept with Mrs. Burnham."
"Wull, ye need na worry aboot the matter. Ye'll ha' naught to fear fra
the trial, I'm thinkin'. Gae to sleep noo; ye'll feel better i' the
mornin', na doot."
Ralph was silent, but only for a minute. A new thought was working
slowly into his mind.
"But, Uncle Billy," he said, "s'pose they should prove, to-morrow, 'at
Simon Craft is my own gran'father, would I have to--Oh! Uncle Billy!"
The lad started up in bed, sat there for a moment with wildly staring
eyes, and then sprang to the floor trembling with excitement and fear.
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