A surgeon came by Colonel Clifford's order and examined Monckton's bruised body, and shook his head. He reported that there were no bones broken, but there were probably grave internal injuries. These, however, he could not specify at present, since there was no sensibility in the body; so pressure on the injured parts elicited no groans. He prescribed egg and brandy in small quantities, and showed Mrs. Monckton how to administer it to a patient in that desperate condition.
His last word was in private to Waddy. "If he ever speaks again, or even groans aloud, send for me. Otherwise—" and he shrugged his shoulders.
Some hours afterward Colonel Clifford called as a magistrate to see if the sufferer had any deposition to make. But he was mute, and his eyes fixed.
As Colonel Clifford returned, one of the detectives accosted him and asked him for a warrant to arrest him.
"Not in his present condition," said Colonel Clifford, rather superciliously. "And pray, sir, why did not you interfere sooner and prevent this lawless act?"
"Well, sir, unfortunately we were on the other side of the house."
"Exactly; you had orders to be in one place, so you must be in another. See the consequence. The honest men have put themselves in the wrong, and this fellow in the right. He will die a sort of victim, with his guilt suspected only, not proved."
Having thus snubbed the Force, the old soldier turned his back on them and went home, where Grace met him, all anxiety, and received his report. She implored him not to proceed any further against the man, and declared she should fly the country rather than go into a court of law as witness against him.
"Humph!" said the Colonel; "but you are the only witness."
"All the better for him," said she; "then he will die in peace. My tongue has killed the man once; it shall never kill him again."