There was a long silence when Lucy Dart came to the end of her story. There were parts of it that struck home to Lady Eleanor, for was not she also the widow of a soldier who had been killed in action? But what moved her and Colonel George above all was the change in the woman's face. While she was talking of her young days her features were softer; but as she neared the end of her story they grew harder and harder until they assumed an expression of worn, dogged despair, as though she still felt the stress of those terrible days in the retreat to Corunna. She was ghastly pale also, and seemed quite exhausted when she came to the last word; and both of her visitors recalled her words, that she had carried her son, a grown man, most of the many miles from Bracefort to the hut where he now lay.

Colonel George broke the silence by telling Lucy that she must take care to keep up her own strength as well as her son's, and that he would come back the next day with a fresh store of provisions for them both. He begged at the same time to be allowed to bring the doctor with him, but Lucy positively refused. A doctor could do no good, she said; and she begged that the colonel would not come again until the day after to-morrow, as she wished to be left alone.

So with a heavy heart Lady Eleanor bade her good-bye, and they left her bent over the body of her son; Colonel George saying that he could find his way back over the bog without help. And so indeed he did, with a skill which to Lady Eleanor seemed marvellous; but she said not a word to him until they reached the high ridge, on a point of which she had once rested while the searching parties were scouring the moor for her lost children, as weary with watching and misery as the woman from whom she had just parted. And then for the first time there occurred to her the readiness, quickness and foresight with which Colonel George had arranged everything, not only for the finding of the children, but for letting her know by signal what had happened, for better or worse, as early as possible. Involuntarily she quickened her horse's pace a little as she thought of her race home to the children, after they were found; and then came the chilling remembrance that, when she reached home, Dick would not be there. She pulled up, and looked round for Colonel George, who had dropped somewhat behind her, and was gazing at the glorious prospect of moor and valley and woodland that was spread out before him. Instantly he was at her side.

"I am afraid that we have not the same excuse for scampering home to-day," he said, divining her thoughts; "poor old Dick is well on his way by now. Well, the Corporal will be back in a few days to tell us all about him; and I hope to see him myself before long, as he will be close to London."

"Then you are going?" said Lady Eleanor, "for how long?"

"For a long time," he said, "I am going abroad again. Three months is not very long leave after a six months' voyage perhaps, but I am a soldier and must go where I am told. But I don't start for another month," he added, "so I hope to clear up this little trouble for you before I go."

Lady Eleanor stifled a little cry. "Going away again so soon?" she said. "Surely you are not wanted already?" But she checked herself and went on calmly. "Then you think there is nothing very serious the matter with that poor idiot after all?"

Colonel George shook his head. "I am not a doctor," he answered, "but I confess that I think very badly of him, and I believe that the woman is right, and that a doctor would be useless."

They rode on silently for a time, when Colonel George said, "That poor woman looked nearly as ill as her son. She went through terrible things before Corunna, but the last few days must have been almost worse. The strain of carrying him all that distance from Bracefort must have been more than she could really stand. She has no one except him in the world, and if he be taken from her, I cannot think how she will struggle on alone."

"Yes," said Lady Eleanor, as if talking to herself, "it is terrible to be left alone."