Nurse Elisia. Fenn George Manville
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we shall soon know, and if he is, I’d make them take him back.”
Sir Cheltnam mounted and went off at a sharp trot for some hundred yards, curved round full into sight, and, increasing his pace, came toward them at a good swinging gallop, rose at a hedge, cleared it well, and then pressed the horse on toward a stiffish fence, which it also cleared capitally, and cantered back to the waiting party, where Sir Cheltnam pulled up and leaped down.
“I can detect nothing,” he said.
“You did not take him far enough to prove it,” said Mr Elthorne shortly. “I’ll canter him down to the far hedge and back.”
As he approached the horse, there was the trampling of other hoofs, the groom and helper bringing round the horses ordered for the morning ride, while just seen in the distance over the hedge which ran along by the road were the heads of the sisters coming over to join in the excursion.
The next minute Mr Elthorne was in the saddle, and the horse sprang forward at a touch.
“Your father rides well, Elthorne,” said Sir Cheltnam. “Capital seat for so heavy a man.”
“Hasn’t followed hounds thirty years for nothing,” replied Alison. “I say,” he shouted; “better take that lower down.”
For, reversing the baronet’s process, Mr Elthorne directed his course straight for the fence, and was apparently about to take it at rather an awkward spot.
“He can’t hear you, man,” said Sir Cheltnam; “but he knows what he is about. Ah, here is your sister. I say, keep that Beck along with you this morning: he monopolised her entirely the other day.” Alison did not heed his words, but started forward with a cry, just as Neil and Beck also made a rush for the spot.
Only a few minutes before, The Don had risen and cleared the fence with the greatest ease. This time, possibly from some bad management on the part of his rider, he rushed at it so clumsily that horse and man came down together with a crash; and as Neil, who was nearest, dashed forward, he could see that his father was beneath the horse, which was plunging violently in its attempts to rise, and fell back twice, crushing his rider, before he could regain his feet.
Chapter Five.
Need of a Surgeon
As Neil Elthorne reached the spot where his father had fallen, the horse dashed off at full gallop across the park, followed by one of the grooms, who saw in it something of far greater consequence than his master, who lay perfectly motionless upon the grass.
“Any bones broken?” cried Sir Cheltnam. “Only a bit of a spill. Here, someone go for a doctor.”
No one heeded his words; but Alison and Beck watched Neil curiously as he was down on one knee making a hasty examination of the injured man.
“Oh, papa, papa!” cried Isabel. “Neil, Neil, is he dead?”
“Hush, my dear, be quiet.”
“Hadn’t you better send for a doctor?” cried Sir Cheltnam. “Nasty thing for a horse to roll across a man.”
“Be good enough to be silent, sir,” said Neil sharply. “Alison, make two of the men lift one of the light iron gates off its hinges. Isabel, my child, be a woman. Run to the house and make them bring down a mattress to lay upon the gate, and tell Aunt Anne to bring the brandy, some water, and a glass.”
“But, Neil, dear – ”
“Don’t stop to question. I know nothing yet.”
“But hadn’t you better send a groom at once for a doctor?”
“Confound it all, sir!” cried Beck in a low voice, “can’t you see that Mr Elthorne is in a skillful surgeon’s hands?”
Sir Cheltnam gave him an angry look, and turned his back, while Beck, in the matter of fact, cool fashion of a sailor in a time of emergency, bent down over Neil.
“Can I help you?” he said quietly.
“Eh? Thanks, no. I can do nothing till I get him to bed. Poor old dad!” he muttered to himself. “I little thought I was coming for this.”
He had placed the injured man’s head in an easy position, and in his cursory examination found that no limb was broken or joint dislocated; but Elthorne was perfectly insensible, and the young surgeon dreaded the crushing in of ribs and some internal injury.
Meantime the strong, hale, imperious man of a few minutes earlier lay there, breathing painfully, while those about him were too much occupied to notice the soft, dull sound of horse’s hoofs approaching fast.
Neil started as a shadow was thrown across him, and a sharp, metallic voice cried:
“Hallo! What’s the matter? Anyone hurt?”
“Yes; a bad fall,” said Neil coldly, as his eyes met those of the speaker, the elder of the two Lydons.
“Well, I couldn’t help it,” said the girl rather resentfully. “No fault of mine.”
“Poor old guardy!” cried her sister. “Don’t look like a ride to-day.”
“Not much,” said Saxa. “Did the horse throw him?”
“Fell with him,” said Sir Cheltnam.
“Looked it,” cried Saxa. “I told Dan here that I didn’t like the looks of the mount, but it was no use to tell the old man. He always would have his own way, eh, Dan?”
“Always,” assented her sister.
“Burwood,” cried Neil impatiently, “will you give me your help?”
“Certainly. What shall I do?”
“Take these ladies away somewhere; their talking disturbs the patient.”
“Well, I’m sure!” cried Saxa with a laugh full of annoyance. “But we will not trouble Sir Cheltnam; we know our way back.”
“Here’s someone else coming who will be more civil, perhaps,” said Dana to herself, as Isabel, followed by half the household, came hurrying back.
Alison was returning too, with some of the stablemen and gardeners bearing a light iron gate and the mattress, with the result that the sufferer was borne carefully back to the house.
“I say, Elthorne, though,” said Sir Cheltnam, as they followed behind; “no offence to your brother, who is, I dare say, clever enough, – I forgot that he was a doctor, – hadn’t you better send to the town for the best man they’ve got? I’m afraid your old gov’nor has come off badly.”
“Neil will know,” replied Alison. “He will do what is right.”
“Oh, very well; I only suggested; but I say, hadn’t you better make a bit of a clearance? So many people about must be bad for the patient.”
Alison looked at him curiously, but he said nothing, though the idea did occur to him that it would be satisfactory if his friend were to ride off in company with the Misses Lydon.
“How is he, Neil? What do you think of him?” said Alison, after quietly watching his brother for some time.
“Bad,” said Neil laconically. “I can say nothing yet for certain.”
“Will he die?”
“Please God, no; but the symptoms are serious.”
“Bones broken?”
“No; injury to the spine, I fear. I must have help and further advice.”
“I’ll send on to the town at once for Morrison.”
“No,” said Neil quietly. “This is not a case for a general practitioner. Get me a telegraph form, and have the message sent on at once.”
“Yes,” said Alison eagerly; “but tell me what you are going to do.”
“Send for Sir Denton Hayle.”
“Will he come?”
“If