"Why, Mr. Vereker!" exclaimed George's astonished voice, and next moment the fainting girl was caught up in powerful arms and borne into the inn kitchen, I staggering after.
"Mary—Moll—O Mary, old woman!"
A patter of quick feet upon the stair and George's Mary came running, seeming as bonny and buxom as ever, despite her scant deshabille, as she bent above the swooning girl.
"Poor maid—out i' the storm an' clemmed wi' cold an' 'unger, poor lass! Bring her upstairs—our warm bed, Jarge—an' then brandy, lad, an' the kettle on th' fire—up wi' you!"
Left alone, I filled the kettle from a bucket in a corner, and setting it upon the fire, drew up a chair and sat to dry my clothes and warm my shivering limbs, and presently, what with my weariness and the fire's comfort, began to nod. Opening unwilling eyes, I found George beside me, holding a steaming glass to my lips, and now felt myself deathly cold and shivering in every limb.
"Drink it, sir—hot rum an' a slice o' lemon—nought like it—drink it. Lord, Mr. Vereker, sir—'ere be a go sure-ly!" he exclaimed, smiling and nodding, as I sipped the fragrant beverage. "Awhile agone comes an 'orse into the yard, a-stampin' and a-neighin', so up I jumps and looks out o' winder. 'Lord, old woman,' I sez, 'yonder's Mr. Vereker's Wildfire,' I sez, 'I'd know 'im anywheers,' I sez; 'but what beats me,' I sez, 'there ain't Mr. Vereker.' So down I comes, rubs down the 'oss, takes the lanthorn an' is about to start lookin' for you when in you comes an' wi' you this poor lass—so wot I says now is, Lord, Mr. Vereker, sir, 'ere 's a go, sure-ly!"
"It is!" said I. "What of the girl, poor soul?"
"All right, Mr. Vereker, sir—she'm wi' my old woman, y' see, consequently she'll be right as ninepence in the morning, bless your 'eart, sir."
"I doubt it, George. You see, I found her—in the pine wood yonder, close beside that damnable gate in the wall."
"Did ye so, sir, did ye so?" said he in altered voice. Then, clenching his brawny fists, he raised frowning eyes to a bayonet above the mantel, a long, deadly-looking thing that glittered with constant cleaning. "Ah, by God!" he growled fiercely, "by God, Mr. Vereker, sir—there's them as I'd like t' have wrigglin' their beastly lives out on the end o' my old bagnet—"