‘Now, my chuck,’ he said, ‘try if you can stand. Mr. Redgrave, will you assist me?’
Mr. Redgrave assisted with joy. The girl at length stood up, supported on one side by Raphael Craig and on the other by the emissary of Simon Lock. With a glance at Richard, she said she could walk. Outside stood the motor-car.
‘Shall we take her round to the front-door on this?’ Richard suggested.
‘Are you mad?’ exclaimed Raphael Craig, with sudden disapproval. ‘Teresa will walk.’
He locked the charred door of the stable with a padlock which he took from his pocket, and they proceeded to the house.
Bridget stood at the front-door, seeming to expect them.
‘You’re not well, mavourneen,’ she said, glancing at Teresa’s face, and led the girl away.
During the whole of the time spent by him at Queen’s Farm nothing impressed Richard more than the impassive yet affectionate demeanour of Mrs. Bridget, that mysterious old servant, on this occasion.
The two men were left together in the hall. Mrs. Bridget and Teresa had gone upstairs.
‘Mike!’ Raphael Craig called.