Richard Bassett's cocktail came up slowly, rose high, and landed his forefeet in the field, and so scrambled on.
Sir Charles went at it rather rashly; his horse, tried hard by the fallow, caught his heels against the edge of the bank, and went headlong into the other ditch, throwing Sir Charles over his head into the field. Unluckily some of the trees were lying about, and Sir Charles's head struck one of these in falling; the horse blundered out again, and galloped after the hounds, but the rider lay there motionless.
Nobody stopped at first; the pace was too good to inquire; but presently Richard Bassett, who had greeted the accident with a laugh, turned round in his saddle, and saw his cousin motionless, and two or three gentlemen dismounting at the place. These were newcomers. Then he resigned the hunt, and rode back.
Sir Charles's cap was crushed in, and there was blood on his white waistcoat; he was very pale, and quite insensible.
The gentlemen raised him, with expressions of alarm and kindly concern, and inquired of each other what was best to be done.
Richard Bassett saw an opportunity to conciliate opinion, and seized it. “He must be taken home directly,” said he. “We must carry him to that farmhouse, and get a cart for him.”
He helped carry him accordingly. The farmer lent them a cart, with straw, and they laid the insensible baronet gently on it, Richard Bassett supporting his head. “Gentlemen,” said he, rather pompously, “at such a moment everything but the tie of kindred is forgotten.” Which resounding sentiment was warmly applauded by the honest squires.
They took him slowly and carefully toward Huntercombe, distant about two miles from the scene of the accident.
This 18th November Lady Bassett passed much as usual with her on hunting days. She was quietly patient till the afternoon, and then restless, and could not settle down in any part of the house till she got to a little room on the first floor, with a bay-window commanding the country over which Sir Charles was hunting. In this she sat, with her head against one of the mullions, and eyed the country-side as far as she could see.
Presently she heard a rustle, and there was Mary Wells standing and looking at her with evident emotion.