"Fetch Euphemia, quick!" the boy said hoarsely.
Like an arrow Johnny fled through the green baize door, and then, with an alarmed cry, old Euphemia ran into the hall.
"Oh, my pretty, my pretty!" Trembling like a leaf and ghastly white, the old woman crouched down to gently feel each little limb. And as she did so the boys covered their eyes to hide the sight.
"Did anyone of ye push her down? How was it, tell me true?"
"No, no; oh! nobody pushed her! She fell all the way down the banisters!" several of the boys spoke together.
"We were playing at the funicular, and she lost her balance!" The last words were sobbed out by Mark.
"Playing at the—what?" gasped Euphemia, in horror. "Boy!"—she clutched Oliver's shoulder—"flee to the White House and fetch Doctor George. Say it's life or death. The master's away for a long round on the hills at the farms. Tell them that. Go!"
"But, Euphemia—Uncle George would refuse to come inside our door!" stammered Oliver.
"Do as I bid ye, boy, and quick! Say to Dr. George these words from old Euphemia: 'The Lord do unto you and yours as ye do unto us in this sore need!' He will heed that message, if he's got a heart, not a stone, in him!"
With a shuddering groan, Oliver ran out into the pelting rain, bare-headed, on to the other end of Allonby Edge, where stood the White House with the red lamp, the home of the other Doctor Carew, the brother who had not spoken to Oliver's Father for three years.