ext to go down was Rounds, the miller, who, after rushing several
tangles like an excited rhinoceros, came to grief over an extra tough
bramble strand, and went down with a roar.

"Are you hurt, Mr Rounds?" panted the doctor.

"Hurt!" cried the churchwarden, "I should think I am, sir. Five hundred
million o' thorns in me. But don't you wait. You go on, and see to
that boy," he continued, as he drew himself into a sitting position.
"Dessay he wants you more than I do."

"Then I will go on, Mr Rounds; forgive me for leaving you."

"All right, sir, and you too, parson; goo on, niver mind me."

The rector seemed disposed to stay, for he was breathless, but he
trotted on, and was close to the doctor, as he reached the group on the
other side of the stream.

"Not dead?" panted the doctor.

"Oh no, sir," cried Macey, "but he's very bad; seems to have tumbled
about among the trees a great deal. Look at his face."

The doctor knelt down after making the men stand back.

"Must have fallen heavily," he said, as he began his examination. "Head
cut, great swelling, bruise across his face, and eye nearly closed.
This is no fall, Mr Syme. Good heavens! look at his hand and wrist.
The poor fellow has been horribly beaten with sticks, I should say."

"But tell me," panted the rector; "he is not--"

"No, no, not dead; insensible, but breathing."

"Found him, gentlemen?" said a voice; and as the rector looked up, it
was to see the two police constables on their way to join them.

"Yes, yes," cried the rector; "but, tell me, was there any firing in the
night--any poachers about?"

"No, sir; haven't seen or heard of any lately; we keep too sharp a
look-out. Why, the young gent has got it severely. Some one's been
knocking of him about."

"Don't stop to talk," cried the doctor. "I must have him home
directly."

"Here, how is he?" cried a bluff voice; and Rounds now came up, dabbing
his scratched and bleeding face with his handkerchief.

"Bad, bad, Rounds," said the doctor.

"Bad? Ay, he is. But, halloo, who is been doing this?"

He looked around at his fellow-townsmen, and then at Vane's
fellow-pupils so fiercely that Gilmore said quickly:

"Not I, Mr Rounds."

"Silence!" cried the doctor angrily. "It is of vital importance that my
nephew should be carried home at once."

"Oh, we'll manage that, sir," said one of the constables as he slipped
off his greatcoat and spread it on the ground. "Now, if we li