The servants were gathered there now—the old butler, Greenwood; Stevens, the nurse, who had seen Mr. Wilton bring home his bride; others of the large household standing near in awe-struck silence. They made way for the little figure that appeared at the door, and let Salome pass to Stevens, who was supporting her master's head, while Greenwood was loosing his collar.
"You can do no good, my dear Miss Salome; no good."
"What do you mean, Stevens? I have sent Reginald for Mr. Stone—" Here she stopped, for Greenwood broke out into convulsive crying.
"The dear master is struck for death, and no mortal power can help him now!"
That evening about seven o'clock, Salome, sitting by her mother's side in the hushed and darkened room where the master of Maplestone lay breathing heavily, quite unconscious of any outward thing, heard the sound of horses' feet. She rose quickly and went to the hall door.
"It is Raymond. I had better tell him," she said.
On her way she met Ada, her pretty face washed with tears, like a rose in a heavy shower, who said,—
"Raymond has come back on one of Mr. St. John's horses, Salome. He has broken Captain's knees; just think of that!"
"Does he know?" Salome asked.