put him into
an old grey coat and cap of his own, and merrily they started in the
frosty moonlight, with dashes of snow lying under the hedges, and
everything intensely light. Fulk grumbling in fun at being dragged
away from his warm fire, and pretending to be grown old, the boys
shouting to one another full of glee, all the dogs in the yard
clamouring because only the wise old retriever, Captain, was allowed to
be of the party; Arthur Cradock making ridiculous mistakes on purpose
between the uncle and nephew, Trevorsham and Sham Trevor, as he called
them.

Alas! Nay, shall I say alas, or only be thankful?

They had been gone some time when we heard a rapid tread coming towards
the porch. Something in the very sound thrilled Jaquetta and me at
once with dismay. We darted out, and saw Brand, the head gamekeeper in
the park.

"Never fear, my lady; thank God," he said, "my lord is quite safe. It
is poor Master Lea who is hurt; and Mr. Torwood sent me up for some
brandy, and a mattress, and a lantern, and some cloths."

That assured us that he was alive, and we ran to fulfil the request in
the utmost haste, without asking further questions, and sending off
Sisson to ride for the poor mother, and to go on to Shinglebay for the
doctor, though, to our comfort, we knew that Arthur had almost finished
his surgical education, and was sure to know what was to be done.

"A stray shot," we said again and again to each other; and we called
Nurse Rowe, and made up a bed in Alured's old nursery, and lighted a
fire, and were all ready, with hearts beating heavy with suspense
before the steps came back--my poor Alured first, as we held the door
open. How pale his face looked! and his brows were drawn with horror,
and his steps dragging, saying not a word, but trembling, as he came
and held by me, with one hand on my waist, while Fulk and Sisson
carried in the mattress, Arthur Cradock at the side, and Perrault, who
had joined them, walking behind with the flask.

Dear Trevor lay white with sobbing breath and closed eyes, the cloths
and mattress soaked through and through with blood. They put him down
on the keeping-room table, and Arthur poured more brandy into his mouth.

I said something of the room being ready but Arthur said very low "He
is dying--internal bleeding;" and when Jaquetta asked "Can nothing be
done?" he answered, "Nothing but to leave him still."

"Trevorsham," murmured the feeble voice, and Alured was clo