"There's no necessity whatever for me to stay. We have made him comfortable for the rest of the night with pillows and blankets. Sister Ann means to sit up with him: not that she need do it. To-morrow we will move him to his own home."
"Will he be well enough for that?"
"Quite. He might have been carried there now had means been at hand. And do you go up to your bed at once, and get some rest," concluded the doctor, as he shook hands and took his departure.
John Bent had already gone home. To his great relief, the first object he saw was Mr. North, who arrived at the inn door, just as he himself did. The surgeon's supposition, spoken carelessly though it was proved to be correct. George North had missed his way in returning; had gone miles and miles out of the road, and then had to retrace his steps.
"I'm dead beat," he said to the landlord, with a half laugh. "Fearfully hungry, but too tired to eat. It all comes of my not knowing the country; and there was nobody up to enquire the way of. By daylight, I should not have made so stupid a mistake."
"Well, I have been worrying myself with all sorts of fancies, Sir," said John. "It seemed just as though you had gone off for good in the wake of young Mr. Anthony Castlemaine."
"I wish to goodness I had!" was the impulsive, thoughtless rejoinder, spoken with ringing earnestness.
"Sir!"
Mr. North recollected himself, and did what he could to repair the slip.
"I should at least have had the pleasure of learning where this Mr. Anthony Castlemaine had gone--and that would have been a satisfaction to you all generally," he said carelessly.