His limbs were stiff and not over steady.
"What's the matter with you all ?" he growled.

"You look like a crowd of death's heads.

Hullo! What's this ?" He had caught sight of something he had not seen before, something that sent him striding furiously forward.

For there in the centre of the yard, standing huddled on three legs, was the grey horse his wife had ridden.

Limp and draggled, plastered with mud and foam, with a great streaming gash on the shoulder, and head hanging down in utter exhaustion, stood the grey.
"What's this ?" demanded Sir Giles again.