Hastily throwing on his jacket, he followed the ambulance on which lay the unconcious body, covered with a sheet through which the blood had already penetrated.  A doctor had been summoned and he said life was not extinct.

When the Infirmary was reached, Dick entered, no one attempted to intercept him.  But when the body was placed in the accident ward, all but the doctors and nurses were ordered out.  Dick paced the corridor from end to end incessantly.  He could not leave until he knew the worst.

He had long to wait, but at last the doctors appeared.

“He still lives, but there is no hope.”

And with that terrible sentence ringing in his ear, he had to leave him.

When he reached the works again, he found them closed, but a crowd of workers were gathered there.  He joined them.  They were discussing the terrible accident.

“Aw saw it,” sed one, “aw wor standin cloise to him when th’ ladder smashed an threw him onto th’ shaft.  His smock wor catched in a second, an he wor whirled raand an raand until th’ engine wor stopt, and then he dropt to th’ graand battered to bits.”

“Its ten thaasand pities,” sed another, “an aw connot help thinkin ther’s been some foul play somewhear.  Who can ha takken th’ brokken ladder away?  That ladder should be examined.  Somdy may ha been foolin wi it.”

“It does seem strange,” said several, “but mooast likely it’ll turn up.”

They soon began to scatter, and Dick went homewards.  The ladder!  Who could have taken the ladder?  The tell tale ladder, that bore the evidence of his guilt.

Arrived at home, he shut himself in his room and there he sat through what appeared to him an eternity of night.  He felt no desire to sleep.  Early in the morning found him again at the Infirmary.  He questioned a nurse who was passing.

“He is quite conscious now, but he cannot hold out many hours.  It is better he should die, than live a helpless cripple all the rest of his days.”

“Aw mun see him,” he sed, “Do let me see him.”

“That cannot be without the doctor’s permission,” she said, but seeing the frantic grief of the man, she went and brought the doctor’s consent.

Dick was soon at the bedside.  He saw only the bandaged head.  The face was scarcely disfigured, but there was a look upon it that could not be misunderstood.

A faint smile played over his pale features, as he recognised his visitor.  Dick could not speak, but sank on his knees by the bedside and sobbed as only a strong man can sob.

“Jack,” he sed at last, “can ta forgie me, lad?  Aw did it.  But aw wor mad!  The devil had me in his clutches.  Awm willin to suffer for it, but do forgie me.  Forgie me for old times sake.”

“Aw knew tha did it, but aw forgie thi freely, for tha didn’t know it wod end like this.  Aw wor to blame for net dooin mi wark when aw should ha done.  Dunnot blame Susy.  Shoo’s worthy on thi.  Shoo tell’d me ’at all her heart wor thine, an aw did all aw could to mak thi jaylus.  An shoo wor praad, an when tha seemed to slight her it cut her up, but pride wodn’t let her tell thi what aw’ve tell’d thi nah.  It’s hard to leeav th’ world when young, but its mi own fault.  Forgie me, Dick, an let me dee, an may thee an Susy be happy.”