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Then my eyes fell on Uncle Loveday, and the whole dreadful
truth came surging into my awakened brain. I sank back with a low
moan upon the pillow.
Uncle Loveday, who had been watching me, stepped to the bed and took
my hand.
"Jasper, boy, are you better?"
After a short struggle with my grief, I plucked up heart to answer
that I was.
"That's a brave boy. I asked, because I have yet to tell you
something. I am a doctor, you know, Jasper, and so you may take my
word when I say there is no good in what is called 'breaking news.'
It is always best to have the pain over and done with; at least,
that's my experience. Now, my dear boy, though God knows you have
sorrow enough, there is still something to tell: and if you are the
boy I take you for, it is best to let you know at once."
Dimly wondering what new blow fortune could deal me, I sat up in bed
and looked at my uncle helplessly.
"Jasper, you think--do you not--that your father was drowned?"
"Of course, uncle."
"He was not drowned."
"Not drowned!"
"No, Jasper, he was murdered.


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