"Did he tell how it happened?"
"No."
"It might have been that he was thrown from—from—Mavis."
"No," Mrs. Falconer said again, "that could not be, they think; besides, they found a heavy stick and a tinder box close by."
Presently Piers came down from his place, and Joyce put her arms round him. The boy was very calm, but great tears fell upon Joyce's hand as she pressed him close.
The silent watch went on. Duke lay motionless, but his eyes were on the alert. The servants looked in sometimes, and brought Joyce and her mother some tea and cake. Joyce swallowed a cup of tea, but ate nothing.
Could this be the evening of the day which dawned so brightly?—the Wrington bells chiming, the village children singing hymns, joyousness and gladness everywhere. The guests gathered round Mrs. More; the bright, intelligent conversation to which she was listening; then her own narrative of the Mendip adventure;—and this brought her to the present from the past!
If her father had been assailed by a malicious miner on Mendip, that assailant was Bob Priday; of this she felt no doubt.
The Bristol doctor came, and the Wells doctor and they held a consultation. But there was nothing to be done; the injury Mr. Falconer had received was mortal.
"Will he give no sign, no word that he knows us?" Mrs. Falconer asked. "Oh, for one word!"