"I will deal with him presently," Ravenspur went on. "You take the head, and I'll take the feet, and we'll get this poor fellow back to the house again. It is a terrible business altogether, but, mind you, that dog is not very much to blame. As far as I can make out, what has happened is this: Silva managed to drug my nephew, and was getting his body out of the way when he accidentally came in contact with the dog. And if there is one human being more than another to whom Bruno is devoted, that person is my nephew. The dog would scent him at once, and--well, the rest you can imagine."
They conveyed the unconscious body of Silva upstairs, and laid him on a bed. Once Walter had been brought under cover also, there was only one thing to be done, and that was to send for a doctor without delay. It was obvious enough to Ravenspur and his companions that Silva's wounds were exceedingly critical. The throat seemed to be almost bitten away. The man had lost a deal of blood. He lay there absolutely unconscious. His swarthy features were deadly pale. It was impossible to say whether he breathed or not.
"You leave the doctor to me," Perks said. "I know the neighbourhood. I can be back here well within the hour."
The doctor came at length. He shook his head seriously after he had made his examination.
"Oh, of course, recovery is possible," he said; "whilst there is life there is always hope. But if this man pulls round it will be little less than a miracle. How did it happen?"
There was nothing for it but to explain. After all, it would be more or less impossible to avoid the scandal now. But nothing was said as to the real cause of the accident, nor did Ravenspur deem it prudent to ask the doctor's advice as to the best thing to do with Walter.
"Will the poor fellow recover consciousness?" he asked.
"That is quite possible," the doctor replied. "He has a splendid constitution, and possibly may linger on for some days. He can take no direct nourishment, of course. But medical science can do so much now-a-days in the way of injections. I shouldn't be at all surprised if my patient were able to give an account of what has happened. But in all human probability, he will be in his grave before the week is out. And now, will you leave it to me to obtain a nurse, or would you like to send one of your own?"
On the whole, it would be better to leave it to the doctor, Ravenspur thought. An hour or so passed, and the nurse was established in the sick-room. It was now getting towards daylight, but no one thought of rest or sleep. There was nothing for it but to make the best of the extraordinary situation; nothing for it but to remain where they were and explain as well as they could to the servants when they came back in the morning. Vera flung herself down upon a couch in the drawing-room, and closed her eyes. She was tired and worn out, though it seemed to her that sleep was impossible. Nevertheless, when she came to herself again the sunshine was streaming into the room, the birds were singing noisily in the trees outside. On the lawn Ravenspur was walking up and down in grave consultation with Venables. Presently Vera saw Walter join the group. He looked dreadfully white and haggard; his head was bent, and his step was shaky. A thrill of thankfulness passed over her. She had never hoped to see him walk again. As Vera left the drawing-room and crossed the hall, a maidservant looked at her curiously. Vera advanced with a smile.
"I am afraid we have greatly distressed you," she said. "But perhaps you already know exactly what has happened?"