won't!"

Dimsdale grunted. "Seems to me the only thing to do, Sir Giles. You can't
leave her lady ship to die under a hedge maybe, and not do anything to
find her."

He spoke very deliberately, looking straight into his master's bloodshot
eyes as he did so.

"It wouldn't be hardly right, Sir Giles," he pointed out gravely. "It's
likely that young Mr. Errol will be able to give us a clue, and we can't
leave any stone unturned, being such a serious matter. I'll send on my
own responsibility if you like, Sir Giles. But send we must."

The bystanders glanced uneasily at one another in the silence that
followed this bold speech. The old butler's temerity was unheard of. Not
one among them would have dared thus to withstand the master to his face.
They waited, nervously expectant, for the vials of wrath to descend.

Old Dimsdale waited too, still firmly watching Sir Giles. If he felt any
anxiety on his own account, however, it was not apparent. Nor did he
display any relief when the unpleasant tension passed and Sir Giles with
a shrug turned away from him.

"Oh, go your own way, and be damned to you! I don't care what you do.
Don't stand gaping there, you fools! Get to your work! Better send for
the vet. Can't afford to have a valuable animal spoilt. Dimsdale, take
some brandy and hot water up to my room at once, before you do anything
else. Do you hear?"

And with that he tramped within, leaving an atmosphere of mingled relief
and indignation behind him.

But if his words were callous, the soul of the man was far from easy as
he mounted to his room. He flung himself into the nearest chair when he
arrived there and sat with eyes fixed sullenly before him. He ought to go
in search of her, of course, but he was powerless. His brain was a
smouldering furnace in which anxiety and anger strove luridly for the
mastery. But through it all he sat there torpidly staring. His body felt
as though it were weighted with leaden fetters.

He heard a step in the passage, but did not turn his head. Someone
knocked discreetly. He heard, but he took no notice. The door opened
softly, and old Dimsdale entered.

"We have news, Sir Giles."

Sir Giles neither looked at him nor spoke. He continued to glare heavily
into space.

Dimsdale paused beside him. "A messenger has just come from Baronmead in
their motor, Sir Giles," he said, speaking very distinctly. "Her ladyship
has had a fall, and has been taken there. Mr. Errol begs that yo