staggered hurriedly forward to the junction of the roads, and then sat down suddenly on a bank, still holding his precious charge in his arms. He shifted her head a little, so that he could look at her face. She did not attempt to speak, though he saw she was quite conscious.
"There's some kind of vehicle coming along the road," he said at length, lifting his head suddenly.
She did not reply, but her eyes seemed to search his face as though something perplexed her.
"Are you easier resting?" he questioned.
She closed her eyes slowly by way of reply; she was too spent to speak.
"You have not yet told me who you are," he said at length. All thought of rank and station had passed out of his mind. They were on an equality while he sat there folding her in his arms.
She opened her eyes again, and her lips moved, but no sound escaped them.
In the distance the rattle of wheels sounded more and more distinct.
"Help is coming," he whispered. "I'm sure it is."
Her eyes seemed to smile into his, but no other answer was given.
He looked eagerly toward the bend of the road, and after a few minutes a horse and carriage appeared in sight.
"It's Dr. Barrow's carriage," he said half aloud. "Oh, this is fortunate!"
He raised a shout as the carriage drew near. The coachman saw that something had happened, and pulled up suddenly. The doctor pushed his head out of the window, then turned the door-handle and stepped out on to the roadside.
"Hello, Ralph Penlogan!" he said, rushing forward, "what is the meaning of this?"
"She got thrown from her horse up against Treliskey Plantation," he answered. "Do you know who she is?"
"Of course I know who she is!" was the quick reply. "Don't you know?"
"No. I never saw her before. Do you think she will recover?"
"Has she been unconscious all the time?" the doctor asked, placing his fingers on her wrist.
"No; she's come to once or twice. I thought at first she was dead. There's a big cut on her head, which has bled a good deal."
"She must be got home instantly," was the reply. "Help me to get her into the carriage at once!"
It was an easy task for the two men. Dorothy had relapsed into complete unconsciousness again. Very carefully they propped her up in a corner of the brougham, while the doctor took his place by her side.
Ralph would have liked to ride with them. He rather resented Dr. Barrow taking his place. He had a notion that nobody could support the unconscious girl so tenderly as himself.
There was no help for it, however. He had to get out of the carriage and leave the two together.
"Tell William," said the doctor, "to drive round to the surgery before going on to Hamblyn Manor."
"To Hamblyn Manor?" Ralph questioned, with a look of perplexity in his eyes as he stood at the carriage door.
"Why, where else should I take her?"
"Is she from up the country?"
"From up the country – no. Do you mean to say you've lived here all your life and don't know Miss Hamblyn?"
"But she is only a girl," Ralph said, looking at the white face that was leaning against the doctor's shoulder.
"Well?"
"Miss Hamblyn is going to be married!"
The doctor's face clouded in a moment.
"I fear this will mean the postponement of the marriage," he said.
Ralph groaned inwardly and turned away.
"The doctor says you must drive round to the surgery before going on to Hamblyn Manor," he said, speaking to the coachman, and then he stood back and watched the carriage move away.
It seemed to him like a funeral, with Jess as the mourner, limping slowly behind. The doctor hoped to avoid attracting attention in St. Goram. He did not know that Jess was following the carriage all the way.
It was the sight of the riderless horse that attracted people's attention. Then, when the carriage pulled up at the doctor's door, someone bolder than the rest looked in at the window and caught a glimpse of the unconscious figure.
The doctor's anger availed him nothing. Other people came and looked, and the news spread through St. Goram like wildfire, and in the end an enterprising lad took to his heels and ran all the distance to Hamblyn Manor that he might take to Sir John the evil tidings.
CHAPTER IV
A BITTER INTERVIEW
Dr. Barrow remained at the Manor House most of the night. It was clear from his manner, as well as from the words he let fall, that he regarded Dorothy's case as serious. Sir John refused to go to bed.
"I shall not sleep in any case," he said. "And I prefer to remain downstairs, so that I can hear the latest news."
Lord Probus remained with him till after midnight, though very few words passed between them. Now and then they looked at each other in a dumb, despairing fashion, but neither had the courage to talk about what was uppermost in their thoughts.
Just as the daylight was struggling into the room, the doctor came in silently, and dropped with a little sigh into an easy-chair.
"Well?" Sir John questioned, looking at him with stony eyes.
"She is a little easier for the moment," was the quiet, unemotional answer.
"You think she will pull through?"
"I hope so, but I shall be able to speak with more confidence later."
"The wound in her head is a bad one?"
The doctor smiled. "If that were all, we would soon have her on her feet again."
"But what other injuries has she sustained?"
"It is impossible to say just at present. She evidently fell under the horse. The wonder is she's alive at all."
"I suppose nobody knows how it happened?" Sir John questioned after a pause.
"Well, I believe nobody saw the accident, though young Ralph Penlogan was near the spot at the time – and a fortunate thing too, or she might have remained where she fell till midnight."
"You have seen the young man?"
"He had carried her in his arms from Treliskey Plantation to the junction of the high road."
"Without assistance?"
"Without assistance. What else could he do? There was not a soul near the spot. Since you closed the road through the plantation, it is never used now, except by the few people to whom you have granted the right of way."
"So young Penlogan was in the plantation,
