"Is he going to die?" asked Drake sadly, for he had taken a fancy to the old man.
"No-o; I don't think so. Not this time. We shall have to keep him quiet. Lady Maltby ought to know—ought to be here. And we mustn't frighten her. Would you mind riding over for her—bringing her, I mean? She'll want some one with her who can keep a cool head, and I fancy you can do that, sir."
"That's all right," said Drake at once; "of course I'll go."
So it happened that, instead of riding to Shorne Mills and seeing Nell, and telling her the truth, the whole truth, which would have turned her misery to happiness, he was going as fast as his horse could carry him back to the Grange.
It was not the first time he had broken bad news—he had seen men fall in the hunting field, and on the race course, and had had more than once to carry the tidings to the bereaved—and he fulfilled his sad task with all the tact of which he was capable. So well, indeed, that even if he had intended permitting Lady Maltby to proceed to Shallop without him, she would not have let him go. The poor woman clung to him, as women in their hour of need always cling to the strong man near them.
They found Sir William coming back to consciousness—a condition which, though fortunate for him, was unfortunate for Drake; for the sick man seemed to cling to him and to rely upon him just as Lady Maltby had done. He implored Drake not to leave him, and Drake sat on one side of the bed, with the frightened wife on the other, until Sir William fell into a more or less refreshing slumber.
It was just four when he mounted his horse and rode to Shorne Mills. The performance of a good deed always brings a certain amount of satisfaction with it, and, as he rode along, Drake felt more at ease than he had done since the scene with Lady Luce. Indeed, last night seemed very far away, and the incident on the terrace of very little consequence. Death, or the warning of death, is so solemn a thing that other matters dwarf beside it. But his resolution to tell Nell everything had not weakened, and he urged his rather tired horse along the steep and switchbacky road.
At a place called Short's Cross he caught sight of the Shorne Mills carrier on his way to the station. But Drake did not guess that Nell was sitting under the tilt cover, that by just turning his horse and riding hard for a minute or two he could be beside her. He glanced at the cart, thought of the day he had first seen it, and of all that had happened since, and, gently touching his horse with his whip, rode on.
The sun was sinking as he crossed the moor, and the cliffs were dyed a fiery red as he came in sight of them and The Cottage on the brow of the hill. His heart beat fast during the few minutes spent in reaching the garden gate. What would she say? Would she be much startled when she learned that he was "Lord Selbie"? Would she understand that he had never really loved Luce; that it was she—Nell—whom he wanted for his wife, had wanted almost from the first day of his seeing her?
At the sound of the horse's hoofs Dick came out of The Cottage, and down to the gate.