on't mind saying so, ay, and meaning it too, though it may
be like methodism; for, as Mr. Gray walked by the quarry, he heard a
groan, and at first he thought it was a lamb fallen down; and he stood
still, and then he heard it again; and then I suppose, he looked down and
saw Harry. So he let himself down by the boughs of the trees to the
ledge where Harry lay half-dead, and with his poor thigh broken. There
he had lain ever since the night before: he had been returning to tell
the master that he had safely posted the letter, and the first words he
said, when they recovered him from the exhausted state he was in, were"
(Miss Galindo tried hard not to whimper, as she said it), "'It was in
time, sir. I see'd it put in the bag with my own eyes.'"

"But where is he?" asked I. "How did Mr. Gray get him out?"

"Ay! there it is, you see. Why the old gentleman (I daren't say Devil in
Lady Ludlow's house) is not so black as he is painted; and Mr. Gray must
have a deal of good in him, as I say at times; and then at others, when
he has gone against me, I can't bear him, and think hanging too good for
him. But he lifted the poor lad, as if he had been a baby, I suppose,
and carried him up the great ledges that were formerly used for steps;
and laid him soft and easy on the wayside grass, and ran home and got
help and a door, and had him carried to his house, and laid on his bed;
and then somehow, for the first time either he or any one else perceived
it, he himself was all over blood--his own blood--he had broken a blood-
vessel; and there he lies in the little dressing-room, as white and as
still as if he were dead; and the little imp in Mr. Gray's own bed, sound
asleep, now his leg is set, just as if linen sheets and a feather bed
were his native element, as one may say. Really, now he is doing so
well, I've no patience with him, lying there where Mr. Gray ought to be.
It is just what my lady always prophesied would come to pass, if there
was any confusion of ranks."

"Poor Mr. Gray!" said I, thinking of his flushed face, and his feverish,
restless ways, when he had been calling on my lady not an hour before his
exertions on Harry's behalf. And I told Miss Galindo how ill I had
thought him.

"Yes," said she. "And that was the reason my lady had sent for Doctor
Trevor. Well, it has fallen out admirably, for he looked well after that
old donkey of a Prince, and saw that he made no blunders."

Now "that old donkey of a