Mr. Marx advanced a step or two, his eyes flashing with anger. Then suddenly he turned his back upon us, and, without a word, walked rapidly away. I raised my prisoner, and half carried, half dragged him back to the farm.
In a few hours the doctor from Rothland had arrived and speedily set the broken bones. He seemed much interested in the case and made a careful examination.
“Do you think he has been a lunatic long?” I asked.
The doctor shook his head.
“On the contrary,” he replied, “I should say his madness has come on quite recently—the effect of some severe shock probably. If he is treated properly there is no doubt that he will regain his reason.”
In a few days the lunatic was pronounced well enough in health to be moved; and as all inquiries and advertisements about him proved fruitless, he was consigned to the county asylum at Torchester.
CHAPTER XXIII.
MY GUARDIAN.
On the third day after my adventure in the park Mr. Ravenor called to see me. He came in splashed from head to foot and had evidently ridden a long distance and fast. I offered him a chair and some refreshment, for he looked pale and tired, but he declined both, and walked slowly up and down the room, his hands grasping a long riding-whip behind his back.
“I can only give you a minute or two now, Morton,” he said, with some slight return of his former brusque hauteur; “I am expecting visitors from London to-night and must get back to receive them. But there is something I must say to you. You will be surprised to hear that your mother has left you a considerable property?”
I was very much surprised.