the
stream! Mind how you go! It's very steep."

Gracie went like the wind.

Avery began with fingers that shook in spite of her utmost resolution,
to try to loosen Sir Beverley's collar.

"Let me!" said Ronald, gently.

She glanced up gratefully and relinquished the task to him. Ronald was
neat in all his ways.

The return of Gracie with the wet handkerchief gave her something to do,
and she tenderly moistened the stark, white face. But the children's
fears were crowding thick in her own heart. That awful inertness looked
so terribly like death.

And then suddenly the grim lips parted and a quivering sigh passed
through them.

The next moment abruptly the grey eyes opened and gazed full at Avery
with a wide, glassy stare.

"What the--what the--" stammered Sir Beverley, and broke off with a
hard gasp.

Avery sought to raise him higher, but his weight was too much for her
even with Ronald assisting.

"Find my--flask!" jerked out Sir Beverley, with panting breath.

Ronald began to search in his pockets and finally drew it forth. He
opened it and gave it to Avery who held it to the twitching lips.

Sir Beverley drank and closed his eyes. "I shall be--better soon," he
said, in a choked whisper.

Avery waited, supporting him as strongly as she could, listening to the
short laboured breathing with deep foreboding.

"Couldn't I run down to the Abbey for help?" suggested Julian, who had
succeeded at length in tying the chafing animal to a tree.

Avery considered. "I don't know. How far is it?"

"Not more than a mile. P'r'aps I should find Piers there. I'm sure I'd
better go," the boy urged, with his eyes on the deathly face.

And after a moment Avery agreed with him. "Yes, I think perhaps you'd
better. Gracie and Pat might go for Dr. Tudor meanwhile. I do hope you
will find Piers. Tell him to bring two men, and something that they can
carry him on. Jeanie dear, you run home to your mother and tell her how
it is that we shall be late for tea. You won't startle her, I know."

They fell in with her desires at once. There was not one of them who
would not have done anything for her. And so they scattered, departing
upon their several missions, leaving Ronald only to share her vigil by
the old Squire's side.

For a long time after their departure, there was no change in Sir
Beverley's state. He lay propped against Avery's arm and Ronald's knee
breathing quickly, with painful effort, through his parted lips.