"Charlie?" questioned Mrs. Wright.
"Charlie Burchester--Lord Saltash. Didn't you see what--what Jake did to him? Oh, it was terrible--terrible!" A great shudder shook her at the remembrance of what she had seen.
"My dear! My dear!" Mrs. Wright leaned to her, smoothing her pillow. "Why, what a mistake to be sure! And to think you've put yourself out like this all for nothing! Dear, dear, dear, to be sure! That wasn't Lord Saltash, darling. Whatever made you think it was? It was just one of them pesky stable-boys as he was giving a jacketing to; and richly he deserved it, I'll be bound."
"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" Maud's voice was suddenly eager. "Are you sure? Are you sure?"
Her dark eyes, wide and beseeching, were raised in earnest questioning to her old friend's kindly face. She clung to the sustaining hand.
"My dear, of course I'm sure. I came along behind you. I saw it all. It was that young dog, Dick Stevens. I know him well, never did like him; and I'm sure he deserved all he got, probably more. Now you mustn't worry yourself any longer. Leave it all to old Mother Wright and go to deep! Will you, my dearie?"
"You're sure Charlie is safe?" Maud said quiveringly. "He--he was coming--don't tell Jake!--to see me to-day. But he didn't come. And I thought--I thought--Oh, are you sure Jake isn't listening?"
She broke off in sudden terror, starting up as if she would tear aside the curtain. But Mrs. Wright was swift to interpose.
"My dear, you mustn't upset yourself like this. It's very wrong. What if Jake did know? Surely he would understand. He would know that there could be no reason why Lord Saltash should not drop in and see you in a friendly way now and then. Didn't you tell me you were old friends?"
"Oh, you don't know Jake!" moaned Maud. "He is so terrible--so terrible. He would shoot Charlie--if he knew!"