The Squire is ill." "I said he was dicky," gasped the boy.

"I knowed it whenever--" "Hold your tongue, sir, and help me lift him to the sofa." Between them they moved the stricken man to the couch, where he lay open-eyed, speechless, appealing.
"We must get Dr Brandram, Raffles." "That'll puzzle you," said the boy, "a night like this, and the two 'orses at Castleridge." "Is there any chance of your mistress returning to-night ?" "Not if Tom Robbins knows it.

He's mighty tender of his 'orses, and a night like this--" "Go and fetch the housekeeper at once," said the tutor.
Raffles vanished.
Mr Armstrong was not the man to lose his head on an emergency, but now, as he bent over the helpless paralytic, and tried to read his wants in the eyes that looked up into his, he found it needed a mighty effort to pull himself together and resolve how to act.
He must go for the doctor, five miles away.

There was no one else about the place who could cover the ground as quickly.

But if he went, he must leave the sufferer to the tender mercies of Raffles and the housekeeper--a prospect at which Mr Armstrong shuddered; especially when the latter self-important functionary entered, talking at large, and proposing half a dozen contradictory specifics in the short passage from the door to the sick-couch.
Mr Armstrong only delayed to suggest meekly that his impression was that a warm bath would, under the circumstances, be of benefit, and then, not waiting for the contemptuous "Much you know about it" which the suggestion evoked, he set off.
It was no light task on a night like this to plough through the snow for five miles in search of help, and the lanes to Yeld were, even in open weather, none of the easiest.