He left Cris to superintend. Cris was not incompetent for the task; but he might have displayed a little more sympathy with the sufferers without compromising his dignity. Cris had arrived in much bustle and excitement at the scene of action: putting eager questions about Rupert, as to how he came to be down the shaft, and whether he was really dead. The report that he was dead had reached Cris Chattaway's ears at some miles' distance, as it had reached those of many others.
It reached Maude Trevlyn's. The servants at the Hold heard it, and foolishly went to her. "There had been an explosion in the pit, and Master Rupert was amongst the killed." Maude was as one stricken with horror. She did not faint or cry; putting on a shawl and bonnet mechanically, as she would for any ordinary walk, she left the house on her way to Blackstone. "Don't go, Maude; it will only be more painful to you," Octave had said in kindly tones, as she saw her departing; but Maude, as though she heard not, bore swiftly on with a dry eye and burning brow. Turning from the fields into the road, she met George Ryle.
"Where are you going, Maude?"
"Oh, George, don't stop me! I had no one but him."
But George did stop her. He saw her countenance of despair, and suspected what was wrong. Putting his arm gently round her, he held her to him. Maude supposed he had heard the tidings, and was unwilling that she should approach the terrible scene.
"My darling, be comforted. You have been hearing that Rupert shared the calamity, but the report was a false one. Rupert is alive and well. It is the happy truth, Maude."
Overcome by emotion, Maude leaned upon him and sobbed out more blissful tears than perhaps she had ever shed. Mr. George would have had no objection to apply himself to the task of soothing her until the shades of night fell; but scarcely a minute had they so stood when an interruption, in the shape of some advancing vehicle, was heard. These envious interruptions will occur at the most unwelcome moments, as perhaps your own experience may bear witness to.
It proved to be the pony-carriage of Miss Diana Trevlyn. Mr. Chattaway with his lame foot sat beside her, and Mrs. Chattaway occupied the groom's place behind. Miss Diana, who chose to drive her own pony, although she had a gentleman at hand, drew up in surprise at the sight of Maude.
"I had heard that Rupert was killed," she explained, advancing to the carriage, her face still wet with tears. "But George Ryle has told me the truth."
"And so you were starting for Blackstone!" returned Miss Diana. "Would it have done any good, child? But that is just like you, Maude. You will act upon impulse to the end of life."