Toward morning Jim's restlessness partly subsided, and he fell into
a fitful slumber. Tom dropped off, and did not awake until he heard his
friend astir.
"What's the matter?" asked the elder, sitting up in bed and looking in a
scared way at Jim, who having partly dressed himself, was sitting on the
side of the couch.
"I don't know; I feel awful queer; my head is light; I saw father and
sister Maggie last night: did you see anything of them?"
"No; you were dreaming."
"They were here; father came in the room and looked at me, but did not
speak and went away, but Maggie took hold of my hand and asked me to go
with her. Wasn't it strange, Tom, that she should come back after all
these years? I saw her as plain as I do you."
Tom was frightened. Swallowing a lump in his throat, and hiding his
agitation as best he could, he said gently,--
"Jim, you are ill. Lie down on the bed again and I'll call Mrs. Pitcairn."
"I'm afraid there is something the matter with me," muttered the younger
lad, lying down, his face flushed and his eyes staring. He said something
which showed his mind was wandering and he had become flighty.
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