He shook his head despondently, but luckily for him the lady failed to notice it, and continued with airy cheerfulness:
“For my husband has often told me what an excellent swordsman Mr. Carstares is, and———”
“Your ladyship forgets his wound.”
What she might have been constrained to reply to this is not known, for at that moment came the sound of coach-wheels on the gravel. With one accord she and Salter flew to the door, and between them, wrenched it open, just as a gentleman’s travelling coach, postillioned by men in gold and black, and emblazoned with the Wyncham arms, drew up at the door.
My lady was down the steps in the twinkling of an eye, almost before one of the grooms had opened the door to offer an arm to my lord. Carstares sprang lightly out, followed by O’Hara, seemingly none the worse for wear.
Molly ran straight into her husband’s arms, regardless of the servants, hugging him.
Jim Salter hurried up to my lord.
“Ye are not hurt, sir?” he cried.
Carstares handed him his hat and cloak.
“Nought to speak of, Jim. But ‘Everard’ well-nigh finished me for all that!” He laughed at Jim’s face of horror, and turned to Molly, who, having satisfied herself that her husband was quite uninjured and had never once been in danger of his life, had come towards him, full of solicitude for his shoulder “Oh, my dear Jack! Miles tells me you have hurt your poor shoulder again! And pray what has been done for it? I dare swear not one of you great men had the wit to summon a doctor, as indeed you should have, for———”
“Whist now, asthore!” adjured her husband. “’Tis but a clean scratch after all. Take him into the house and give him something to drink! I’ll swear ’tis what he needs most!”
