Chard, who had jumped down from the curricle, and had been listening to him with a puzzled frown on his face, said that he thought the injuries were hardly more than grazes. “I handed him over to Jem, me lord, not knowing what kind of an embarazo you was got into, and thinking you might need me more than the horse.”
“Nonsense! Is it likely I could be in serious trouble?”
“As to that, me lord, there’s no saying what trouble you could be in,” replied his henchman bluntly. “All I know is I never knew your horse to come home without you before!”
By this time, the Viscount had turned the curricle about, and was commanding Gervase to climb into it.
“Certainly not! It is Miss Morville whom you shall drive, Lucy, not me!”
“Take you both!” said the Viscount. “You won’t mind being a trifle crowded, ma’am? Come, Ger, no playing the fool with me! I don’t know how you came to do it, but it’s as plain as a pikestaff you took a bad toss! Shaken to pieces, I daresay — your cravat is, at all events! Never saw you look such a quiz in my life!”
Thus adjured, the Earl handed Miss Morville up into the curricle, and climbed in after her. The Viscount observed that it was a fortunate circumstance that they were none of them fat; Chard swung himself up behind, and the horses were put into motion.
“Tell you another thing, Ger, about this precious rumble of yours!” said the Viscount. “Can’t see how — ” He broke off, for the Earl, who had flung one arm across the back of the driving-seat, in an attempt to make more room for Miss Morville, moved his hand to his friend’s shoulder, and gripped it warningly. “Oh, well! No sense talking about it!” he said.
They were soon bowling through the archway of the Gate Tower. Miss Morville was set down at the Castle, but the Earl insisted on driving to the stables, to examine Cloud’s hurts. Here they found Theo, also engaged on this task. He came out into the yard at the noise of the curricle’s approach, and said, in his unemotional way: “Well, I am glad to see you safe and sound, Gervase! Pray, what have you been doing?”
“Merely coming to grief through my own folly,” replied Gervase, alighting from the curricle. “In the failing light I didn’t perceive a rabbit-hole, that is all!”