“Come and see,” replied he.
She timidly followed him into the adjoining room, and gazed with fear and trembling upon the form of the major.
“Is he—is he—dead?” gasped she.
“I don’t know,” replied Somers, stooping down, and glancing at the wound on the major’s head. “No, he is not dead, and probably will not die with that wound.”
“What shall I do? Will you call a surgeon?”
“I think not.”
“We have no time to spare, Captain Somers,” interposed the regular, with a smile at the simple question of the frightened Maud.
“We will make our escape. We will go by the grove to the north of the house—to the north,” said Somers, with peculiar emphasis.
“To the north,” repeated Barkwood, with the same emphasis, though he did not understand the strategy of his companion.
“We need not hurry; the more haste, the less speed in the business,” replied Somers, as he bent over the prostrate form of the major again.