“What for, my man?” said Salis, feeling a little disconcerted.
“I thought you laughed, sir, and said something.”
“No, no, my man; only a way of mine.”
They walked on in silence after this, Salis feeling very sore at heart as he thought of his sister, and how painful it was that she should still care, as she evidently did, for such a worthless scoundrel.
“Even the knowledge of this new escapade would not move her, I’m afraid,” he muttered. “Well, matters like this must settle themselves.”
They now reached the Hall, to find the servants assembled, and in a state of the most intense excitement.
“Master was no worse,” the old butler said. “He had been asking for brandy.”
“What? You did not give it to him?” cried Salis excitedly.
“I was obliged to, sir. You can’t know Sir Thomas, or you wouldn’t talk like that. But I’m very glad you’ve come, sir.—It’s such a responsibility, having him so bad. He’s terribly cut about, sir. Please come in and see if you can do anything more than I have till the doctor comes.”
Salis followed the old butler up to the bedroom, where Tom Candlish lay upon the bed, and, as the butler said, terribly cut about the head; for, in addition to the bruises upon his head and temple, he had a cut lip, and the very perfection of two black eyes.