"Zounds!" he exclaimed. "If you ain't the poacher as vanished into air all I say is—Zooks!" His lordship nodded and smiled faintly.
"How goes it, Sergeant?" he questioned, swaying strangely from side to side as he knelt.
"A woundy rap o' the nob d'ye see lad, and more o' the same front and rear, but no worse thanks t'you and now—Gog and Magog, hold up lad! What, ha' they got you too?" His lordship tried to laugh but failing, smiled instead:
"Got me—aye!" he mumbled, "I—almost think—I'm going——" The words ended in a sigh and my lord Medhurst slipped limply to the ground and lay there. Muttering oaths in English, French and Dutch the Sergeant set hands to throbbing head and staring blankly about spied the sword near by; took it up, examined the point instinctively and nodding grimly contrived to set it back in scabbard. Then taking the inert figure in practised hold lifted him to broad shoulder and trudged sturdily off; but as he went the throbbing in his head seemed like hammer-strokes that deafened, that blinded him; yet on he strode nor paused nor stayed until the welcome lights of the Manor gleamed before him. As he plodded heavily on, he became aware of a voice hailing him above the thunderous hammer-strokes and he paused, reeling:
"Zeb, Sergeant Zebedee!"
"Here, sir!" he gasped hoarsely. Next moment the Major was beside him:
"Suffer me, Zebedee," said he, and taking the insensible form in his powerful arms, led the way into the house and so to the library, the Sergeant plodding doggedly in his rear. Laying his inert lordship upon a settee, the Major summoned Mrs. Agatha, who, seeing the Sergeant bruised and bloody screamed once, below her breath, and immediately became all womanly dexterity. Softly, swiftly she bustled to and fro; first came cordials and glasses, thereafter a bowl of water, sponges and soft linen and very soon beneath her able and gentle ministrations the earl sighed, opened languid eyes and sitting up, stared about him while Mrs. Agatha promptly turned her attention to the battered Sergeant.
"Faith, sir," said my lord apologetically, "I—I fear I was so foolish as to swoon——"
"But saved my life first, your honour," added the Sergeant, dodging Mrs. Agatha's sponge to say so, "and winged one o' the rogues into the bargain."
"Then sir," said the Major, "my deepest gratitude is yours. Sergeant Zebedee is—is an old comrade of mine a—a comrade and—and so forth as 'twere, my lord Medhurst."