"Have you looked for the man who did this?" asked Joyce.
"I have sent a message to the police at Beorminster," said Herrick without looking at him. "You can do no good Joyce; better go back to the inn. By the way your friend Santiago?"
"He has been with Corn all the night," said Frank, "we met them coming here. They had just heard the news, but Bess persuaded them to stay away thinking they would only bother you."
"I think it is best to keep the house as quiet as possible. Has Sidney said anything?" he asked looking at the sisters.
Ida clasped her hands in terror. "Did Sidney say this would happen?"
"Yes. He looked into yonder ink-pot and foretold the assault. I cannot understand the thing myself, but we can talk of it to-morrow. In the meantime, all of you hold your tongues about Sidney."
This they all promised to do and now being more at rest in their minds about Stephen, they went away. Herrick drew Bess aside at the door. "Come over with Ida to-morrow morning," he muttered, "I want to speak to you."
She nodded and ran after the rest who were disappearing into the darkness. Herrick with a frown returned to the library. "It was not Joyce," he muttered, "it was not Manuel. After all it _must_ be Frisco. Well, if the police are clever they will catch him before he can leave the district. Ha! I'll send a message to Southberry, it was that way he escaped last time."
Herrick hastily wrote out an explanation. He did not need to add a description of Frisco as the hand-bills had sufficiently described him. This he sent off with another groom, then went to pass the night beside the bed of his patient. All that night Stephen lay as still as a corpse.
It was towards morning when he moved and showed signs of returning consciousness. Herrick was assiduous in his attendance, and success crowned his efforts. Gradually Stephen came to himself, with a dull pain in his head, weak, but quite himself. "Where--where am I?" were his first stammering words.