In a brief time they had reached the spot where Will Venners lay. He was quite unconscious now, and Leonard felt his heart sink, as they lifted the tall, soldierly figure into the phaeton and arranged him as comfortable as possible.
The drive would be of only a few moments’ duration, and a physician had already been summoned. They reached Yorke Towers at last, and the short drive, which had seemed endless to Leonard, was accomplished.
The still unconscious man was borne into the house to a sleeping-room upon the first floor. The physician took possession of him, and a long examination followed.
After a time Leonard came to where Jessie Glyndon was standing beside a window, gazing forth with sad gray eyes which saw nothing of the fair scene without.
“Jessie,” he said in a low tone—it was quite wonderful what good friends these two had suddenly become—“the doctor says that he is more seriously injured than we thought. Only the best of care and nursing will save him, if he can be saved at all.”
“He shall have that, Mr. Yorke, if you will permit me to act as his nurse,” she said in a trembling voice. “I can get the housekeeper to assist me; and I am willing to lay my life down in his service!”
Leonard pressed her hand.
“I understand,” he said, softly; “and I pray God that you and he will be united yet.”
But there seemed little prospect of his recovery, or any explanation being adjusted between the two lovers suffering through a strange misunderstanding.
For Will Venners was delirious now, his dark eyes full of a wild, unnatural light as they rested upon the pale, sorrow-stricken face of the woman who loved him so, yet whom he did not recognize, as he raved on in a vacant, meaningless fashion, which filled the hearts of his listeners with consternation and nearly drove Jessie distracted.