Bullstone was silent for a few moments, then he returned to the present.
"Come on," he said abruptly, and going to a little chamber at the kennels, collected a pair of gloves, one or two instruments and a bottle of healing lotion. These he put into his pocket and set off to Shipley Farm beside Samuel.
He asked concerning Adam's purchase of calves, but the other only knew that they would arrive early the following week and must be met.
The patient—a great, high-sterned English sheep-dog, with touzled head and bright eyes, one of which was blue, the other green—showed no temper to Bullstone, but he harboured private grudges against Samuel, who had been cruel to him in secret, and he probably associated his present misery with the enemy. Jacob extracted a large splinter of wood from his paw and dressed the wound, while the bob-tailed dog expressed nothing but well-mannered gratitude and licked his face.
"He'll be all right in twenty-four hours, Samuel. Shut him up till noon to-morrow, so as he can't get running in the muck, and give him an extra good supper," advised Bullstone. Amelia, who had witnessed the operation, thanked her neighbour.
"And Adam will be properly grateful, I'm sure, when he hears tell of it. A very friendly thing, and I never thought as you would come yourself."
"Your nephew's at Plymouth—eh? My wife and Auna are down there with Mr. Pulleyblank," explained Jacob.
"To be sure. And I hope the sea air will do Margery good. She've looked a thought pinnickin and weary to my eye of late. Too thin, Jacob."
"She always enjoys the change. I might go down for a day or so, perhaps, and fetch her back."
"A very clever thought," declared Amelia; "and I've asked Adam to bide there a few days, for he never takes a holiday and it will do him good and rest him. So I hope he will bide."