The stranger rose rubbing his shoulder and announcing strangely:
"There are no bones broken, but the patient must be kept quiet." It was then that Mary first suspected him of not being quite sane.
Mary, who had managed in the confusion to retain her hold of the lantern, said:
"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's such a shame. And I was being so horrid to you, because you startled me, and really I was longing for some one to come."
Together they drew Starlight cautiously away from the hedge and replaced the lamp in its socket.
"Where are you going?" asked Mary. She had time now to notice that they stood near the cross-roads where the road to Anderby dissects that between Cattlesby and Beaverthorpe.
The stranger was brushing mud and water from his trousers.
"Well," he remarked ingenuously, "do you know, I'm not at all sure?"
"But where do you want to go?" repeated Mary. No one could possibly go wandering about just anywhere on a night like this—not if they were in their senses.
"I don't think I want to go anywhere." His voice was suddenly small and pathetic. "In fact, I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to be sick."