So she sat on her bed, listening.
There was certainly disturbance below. What was the meaning of it?
Presently she heard her aunt’s voice down-stairs. She was therefore not asleep in her room.
Thereupon Judith descended the stairs to the hall. There she found Captain Coppinger being carried to his bedroom by two men, while Miss Trevisa held a light. He was streaming with water that made pools on the floor.
“What is the matter? Is he hurt? Is he hurt seriously?” she asked, her woman’s sympathy at once aroused by the sight of suffering.
“He has had a bad fall,” replied her aunt. “He went to a wreck that has been cast on Doom Bar, to help to save the unfortunate, and save what they value equally with their lives—their goods, and he was washed overboard. Fell into the sea, and was dashed against that boat. Yes—he is injured. No bones broken this time. This time he had to do with the sea and with men. But he is badly bruised. Go on,” she said to those who were conveying Coppinger. “He is in pain, do you not see this as you stand here? Lay him on his bed, and remove his clothes. He is drenched to the skin. I will brew him a posset.”
“May I help you, aunt?”
“I can do it myself.”
Judith remained with Miss Trevisa. She said nothing to her till the posset was ready. Then she offered to carry it to her husband.
“As you will—here it is,” said Aunt Dionysia.