“Ride any horse—jumps well—you did not—”
His eyes open and staring now, and fixed on his son.
“Neil!” he said aloud, “what’s the matter? Here, give me your hand.”
He tried to rise, and a spasm contracted his face as Neil watched him anxiously and saw a confirmation of his fears.
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t try to move, father. You are a little hurt,” said Neil gravely. “Are you in much pain?”
“Pain? No,” said his father irritably. “Why don’t you both speak? What does it all mean?”
“Your horse fell, sir,” said Neil gently. “Lie quite still.”
“My horse fell? What horse fell? How long have I been here?”
“My dear father, you must try and be calm, please.”