"Are you hurt?"
"Yes, badly," replied Corbould; "when I fell, my gun went off, and the ball has gone through my thigh. I have almost bled to death."
Humphrey went for the ladder, which was at hand, and, with much exertion on the part of the whole four of them, they contrived to drag out Corbould, who groaned heavily with pain. A handkerchief was tied tightly round his leg, to prevent any further bleeding, and they gave him some water, which revived him.
"Now, what's to be done?" said Oswald; "we can never get him home."
"I will tell you," said Humphrey, walking with him aside. "It will not do for any of these men to know our cottage, and we can not take them there. Desire them to remain with the man, while you go for a cart to carry him home. We will go to the cottage, give Billy his supper, and then return with him in the cart, and bring your men something to eat. Then I will go with you, and bring the cart back again before daylight. It will be a night's work, but it will be the safest plan."
"I think so, too," replied Oswald, who desired the men to wait till his return, as he was going to borrow a cart, and then set off with Humphrey.
As soon as they arrived at the cottage, Humphrey gave the pony to Pablo to put into the stable and feed, and then communicated to Edward the state of Corbould.
"It's almost a pity that he had not killed himself outright." observed Oswald; "it would have been justice to him, for attempting your life without any cause; he is a bloodthirsty scoundrel, and I wish he was any where but where he is. However, the intendant shall know of it, and I have no doubt that he will be discharged.
"Do nothing in a hurry, Oswald," replied Edward; "at present let him give his own version of the affair, for he may prove more dangerous when discharged than when under your control. Now sit down and take your supper. Billy must have an hour to get his, and therefore there is no hurry for you."
"That is your gipsy lad, Edward, is he not?" said Oswald.