"To the best of my belief, it was a woman. The night is dusk; and I saw things less accurately than I might have done in a more collected moment. It was a something in a grey cloak, with a shrill voice. I wonder if you could help me up?"
"I will do my best."
I stooped, and he placed his hands upon me, and raised himself. But it appeared that he could not walk: but for holding on to me, he would have fallen.
"I believe you must let me lie on the ground again, and go and send assistance, Miss Hereford. Stay: who's this?"
It was one of the servants, Lizzy Dene, who had been, as was subsequently explained, on an errand to the village. She called out in dismayed astonishment when she comprehended the helpless position of Mr. Chandos.
"Now don't lose your wits, Lizzy Dene, but see what you can do to help me," he cried. "With you on one side, and Miss Hereford on the other, perhaps I may make a hobble of it."
The woman put her basket down, concealing it between the trees, and Mr. Chandos laid his hand upon her shoulder, I helping him on the other side. She was full of questions, calling the horse all sorts of treacherous names. Mr. Chandos said the horse was not to blame, and gave her the explanation that he had given me.
"Sir, I'd lay a hundred guineas that it was one of those gipsy jades!" she exclaimed. "There's a lot of them 'camped on the common."
"I'll gipsy them, should it prove so," he answered. "Miss Hereford, I am sorry to lean upon you so heavily. The order of things is being reversed. Instead of the knight supporting the lady, the lady is bearing the weight of the knight."
"Where was your groom, sir?" I inquired. "He went abroad with you."