"Unhappy boy!" groaned the old man. "He is indeed severely punished for his disobedience! God grant his life may be spared for his mother's sake!"
"Here comes Uncle Theophilus!" Dick cried, as he heard the doctor's slow footsteps descending the stairs. He ran to the door, and went into the hall to meet him, followed by his grandfather.
"How is he?" asked Sir Richard somewhat nervously, as he shook hands with Dr. Warren. "Not seriously injured, I trust?"
"Seriously, but not necessarily fatally," was the grave reply. "We must hope for the best. He has been badly shot in the thigh, and is very weak from loss of blood; he will be ill for many weeks even if all goes well."
"There is danger?" Sir Richard questioned, whilst Dick listened with breathless anxiety.
"There is always danger from gunshot wounds," the doctor answered. "It would not be right for me to hide the fact that he is very seriously ill, but I am hopeful that I may be able to save his leg, and that he will recover."
"Do you mean it may be necessary to amputate his leg?" Sir Richard said in a tone of horror, whilst Dick shuddered at the thought.
"It may be necessary, but I hope not. Mrs. Compton will remain here to nurse her son, and to-morrow we can get a trained nurse to assist. It was very fortunate the boy was brought here, for much valuable time would have been lost if he had been taken to the Manor House. I need hardly tell you, Sir Richard, that I shall do my best for him!"
"As you do for all your patients," Sir Richard said, with unexpected cordiality. "But having Lionel in the house will upset your domestic arrangements, I fear! What does Miss Warren say?"
"The same as I do—that it was providential the poor lad was brought here. Don't look so frightened, Dick! Why, you are trembling like a leaf!" —and Dr. Warren laid his big gentle hand on the little boy's shoulder, and smiled as he met the gaze of the troubled dark eyes.