I went back to the parlour. Leah walked to the side gate, wondering (as she said afterwards) what had come to the milkman, for he was generally much earlier. As she stood looking down the lane, she saw Tom stealing up.
"He has been in some mischief," decided Leah. "It's not like him to creep up in that timorous fashion. Good patience! Why, the lad must have had a fright; his face is white as death."
"Leah!" said the boy, shrinking as he glanced over his shoulder. "Leah!"
"Well, what on earth is it?" asked Leah, feeling a little dread herself. "What have you been up to at that pond? You've not been in it yourself, I suppose!"
"Papa—the parson—is lying in the road by the triangle, all pale and still. He does not move."
Whenever Master Tom Heriot saw a chance of scaring the kitchen with a fable, he plunged into one. Leah peered at him doubtfully in the fading light.
"I think he is dead. I'm sure he is," continued Tom, bursting into tears.
This convinced Leah. She uttered a faint cry.
"We took that way back from the square pond; I, and Joe and Bertie Penthorn. They were going home to get ready to come here. Then we saw something lying near the triangle, close to that heap of flint-stones. It was him, Leah. Oh! what is to be done? I can't tell mamma, or poor Charley."
James ran up, all scared, as Tom finished speaking. He had found Dobbin at the stable-door, without sign or token of his master.