Judge of his dismay when he beheld the livid, discolored face of Captain Hunsden.
"Great Heaven! Captain Hunsden! What horrible accident is this ?" "Sir Everard," he murmured, in a thick, choking tone, "go--tell Harrie--poor Harrie--" His voice died away.
"Were you thrown from your horse?
Were you waylaid ?" asked the young man, thinking of his own recent adventure.
"One of those apoplectic attacks.

I was thrown.

Tell Harrie--" Again the thick, guttural accents failed.
Sir Everard raised his head, and knelt for a moment bewildered.

How should he leave him here alone while he went in search of a conveyance?
Just then, as if sent by Providence, the Reverend Cyrus Green, in his chaise, drove into the woodland path.
"Heaven be praised!" cried the baronet.

"I was wondering what I should do.