'He has been hit—shot—wounded, I mean—that is all, by Hawkey Sharpe, or some other duffer.'

'Oh, Roland, why did you have that horrid fellow to shoot with you? But need I ask why—we can help nothing now! But Jack—my darling—my darling!' she added with a torrent of tears; 'I had a presentiment—I knew something would happen, and it has happened! Oh heavens, Roland, our position here seems overstrained and unnatural. Would that we were out of Earlshaugh and his power!'

'Maude? Our father's house!'

'Our father's house no more.'

'That is as may be,' replied Roland, through his set teeth.

Meanwhile the author of all this dismay ascended the turret-stairs to his 'sanctum' and betook him without delay, with tremulous hands and chattering teeth, to a stiff and tall rummer of brandy and soda to steady his nerves, gather Dutch courage, and prepare to face the worst, while muttering as if to excuse himself.

'An insult of the sort he gave me can never be forgotten!' and he rubbed his right ear, which seemed yet to be conscious of Jack's finger and thumb when used by the latter as a fulcrum to twist him round; while, to do her justice, his sister Deborah grew paler than ever, and seemed on the point of sinking when she heard of what had occurred.

'It was all an accident—a horrible accident, Deb,' said he, an assertion to which he stuck vigorously; 'my ankle got twisted in a turnip shaw, don't you see—anyhow, don't get up your agitation-of-the-heart business just now, for my nerves may not stand it.'

She eyed him coldly—almost sternly, and not as she was wont to do; she read his real fear, and knew the full value of his sham contrition, and that it was born of alarm for himself; but his courage rose, and his secret wrath and hate returned apace, when the doctors, after a consultation and much pulling of nether lips, with also much mysterious and technical jargon, declared that the wound was not a serious one, though some of the charge (No. 5), which had crossed Jack's chest transversely, went perilously near the heart; and that unless suppuration took place, his constitution was so fine 'he would soon pull through.'

The doubt that he might not, or that a relapse might ensue, proved too much just then for the nerves of Mr. Hawkey Sharpe, who resolved on taking his departure for a time.