As he stepped upon the porch there was a loud "halloa" at the gate, and just at that moment he heard his wife's voice. "John, go out there and see who that is," she said.
He went round to the gate. His wife stood on the porch waiting for him. Presently he came back, walking rapidly.
"Who is it, dear?"
"A negro man. Margaret, we must go at once to Louise. Pennington is dying."
With an inarticulate note of astonishment she fled to her room, to prepare herself for the journey, and the Major loudly commanded the carriage to be brought out.
Lanterns flashed across the yard, under the streaming trees, and flickered in the gale that howled about the barn.
Pale, impatient, and wrapped in a waterproof, Mrs. Cranceford stood at the front doorway. The carriage drew up at the gate. "Are you ready?" the Major asked, speaking from the darkness in the midst of the rain.
"Yes," she answered, stepping out and closing the door.
"Where is Tom?" the Major inquired.
"He hasn't come home."