The guests had obeyed the doctor’s injunction not to leave their seats. His words acted like a charm in a fairy tale, and they were suddenly spell-bound in the position they occupied when it was spoken. They looked in dumb astonishment at the principal actors in this unexpected scene. The spell was broken by Dr Guy rising from his seat.
‘What mare was it?’ asked Crawshay, turning sharply to Wrentham.
‘The one I had from you.’
‘And you were giving her high feed and nothing to do!... Humph! I used to think you knew something about horses.’
The yeoman rose with an expression of contempt and advanced to Philip.
‘What’s the matter, lad? Art sore hurt? It went against the grain to part with that mare; and I fervently wish she had eaten her head off at Willowmere, rather than she should have done this. I wouldn’t have parted with her, neither, only I thought she was going into safe hands.’
‘Get him into bed,’ said Dr Guy decisively.
‘For any sake, don’t spoil the fun to-night,’ said Philip feebly. ‘My father will make some excuse for me. I fancied I could hold out for a little longer; but it’s no use.’
‘Do not trouble yourself about that, Philip,’ said Mr Hadleigh. ‘Our friends here will say nothing to-night, and the young people shall enjoy themselves as if nothing had happened.’
‘Thanks. Maybe I shall be able to come down before the fun is all over.’