"Help me!" she said through her clenched teeth, and she put her arms around Yorke's broad shoulders, and raised him from the ground. She felt strong enough to carry him by herself! Between them they carried him into the house and into Lucy's room.
"Now I will go for the doctor," said Leslie, with a calmness which terrified Lucy almost as much as her grief had done, but Lucy snatched up her shawl.
"No, I will go! You must stay with him! You—you will not break down, Leslie?"
A smile crossed Leslie's white face; and, sufficiently answered, Lucy sped away.
When she came back with the doctor they found that Leslie had—heaven only knows how—got off Yorke's saturated coat and waistcoat, and washed the blood from his face; and she stood outside the door holding Lucy's hand, calm and composed, while the doctor made his examination. Then he called them in.
"No bones broken, thank God!" he said; "the horse must have fallen on him, and I was afraid——. But he has struck his head, and there is mischief in a blow like this. He will want careful nursing." He looked from one to the other, and Leslie moved forward a little. The doctor nodded. "Very good," he said, as if accepting her; and he began at once to give her the necessary instructions. "When he comes to he must be kept quiet."
Ralph, who had been fetched by the doctor's man, entered the room, and the doctor sent him into the village for some things he required; on the way Ralph roused the postmaster and sent a telegram to the Duke of Rothbury.
The two girls and the doctor watched beside Yorke throughout the morning, but he still lay motionless and apparently lifeless.
The doctor's face grew graver as the hours passed, and he drew Ralph aside.
"Better send for his friends," he said; "I had hoped to bring him round before this; there is Lady Eleanor Dallas——."