Nell of Shorne Mills

A doctor presently pushed his way through the gaping mob of farmers and

tradesmen, and knelt beside Drake.

"Apoplexy," he said, pursing his lips and shaking his head. "Always

thought it would happen. Let us get him to the hotel."

Between them they carried the stricken man to the Crown and Scepter, at

which--irony of fate!--Sir William would have lunched, and got him to

bed.

"I've warned him once or twice," said the doctor, with a shrug of the

shoulders. "But what's the use! You tell a man to cut tobacco and

spirits, or they will kill him, or to refrain from rump steak and old

ale for breakfast, and he obeys you--until the next time!"

"Is he going to die?" asked Drake sadly, for he had taken a fancy to the

old man.

"No-o; I don't think so. Not this time. We shall have to keep him quiet.

Lady Maltby ought to know--ought to be here. And we mustn't frighten

her. Would you mind riding over for her--bringing her, I mean? She'll

want some one with her who can keep a cool head, and I fancy you can do

that, sir."

"That's all right," said Drake at once; "of course I'll go."

So it happened that, instead of riding to Shorne Mills and seeing Nell,

and telling her the truth, the whole truth, which would have turned her

misery to happiness, he was going as fast as his horse could carry him

back to the Grange.

It was not the first time he had broken bad news--he had seen men fall

in the hunting field, and on the race course, and had had more than once

to carry the tidings to the bereaved--and he fulfilled his sad task with

all the tact of which he was capable. So well, indeed, that even if he

had intended permitting Lady Maltby to proceed to Shallop without him,

she would not have let him go. The poor woman clung to him, as women in

their hour of need always cling to the strong man near them.

They found Sir William coming back to consciousness--a condition which,

though fortunate for him, was unfortunate for Drake; for the sick man

seemed to cling to him and to rely upon him just as Lady Maltby had

done. He implored Drake not to leave him, and Drake sat on one side of

the bed, with the frightened wife on the other, until Sir William fell

into a more or less refreshing slumber.

It was just four when he mounted his horse and rode to Shorne Mills. The

performance of a good deed always brings a certain amount of

satisfaction with it, and, as he rode along, Drake felt more at ease

than he had done since the scene with Lady Luce. Indeed, last night

seemed very far away, and the incident on the terrace of very little

consequence. Death, or the warning of death, is so solemn a thing that

other matters dwarf beside it. But his resolution to tell Nell

everything had not weakened, and he urged his rather tired horse along

the steep and switchbacky road.