They heard Robert’s voice:
“Confound it, I have been rolled on three times in one day by a bucking broncho, and thought nothing of it. I absolutely refuse to stop in bed!”
The doctor resigned professional responsibility; and the nature of Margaret’s cheque caused him to admit that, to a man accustomed to South American ponies, unbroken, the nervous shock might not amount to much.
Indeed, Robert appeared almost immediately, and in a bad temper.
“I lost my wind,” he explained, “when that horse fell on me, and everyone promptly imagined I was killed. I hope, Margaret, the needless excitement of my appearance on a stretcher did not alarm you. They were going to whip me off to the hospital when I managed to gurgle out the name of the hotel.”
“What happened?” said Brett.
“The most extraordinary thing. Have you told him, Davie?”
“No, I attributed your first words to me as being due to delirium. I had no idea you were in earnest.”
“Well, Mr. Brett,” said Frazer, sitting down, for notwithstanding his protests, he was somewhat shaky, “it began to rain after breakfast.”
“Excellent!” cried the barrister, “An Englishman, in his sound mind, always starts with the state of the weather.”