“Yes, she is ill.”
“Not dead?”
“No, no.”
“But very ill? Oh, I feared, I feared when I saw her that there was something amiss. Has she sent you to fetch me?”
“Yes; you are wanted.”
“Reuben, I must set out this instant. Order the coach to be got ready. And Betty must go with me.”
“You will need no coach, Angela. Nor is there time to spare for any such creeping conveyance. I have brought Zephyr. You remember how you loved him. He is swift, and gentle as the wind after which we named him; sure of foot, easy to ride. The roads are good after yesterday’s rain, and the moon will last us most of our way. We shall be at Chilton in two hours. Put on your coat and hat. Indeed, there is no time to be lost.”
“Do you mean that she may die before I can reach her?”
“I know not,” stamping his foot impatiently. “Fate holds the keys. But you had best waste no time on questions.”
His manner was one of command, and he seemed to apprehend no possibility of hesitation on her part. Reuben ran to his pantry, and came back with a tankard of wine, which he offered to the visitor with tremulous respect, almost ready to kneel.