Part 22 (1/2)

”The only objection to that is,” replied Humphrey, ”that you say his gun went off as he fell into the pit; it may be probable that he is wounded, and if so, he might die if he is left there.”

”You are right, Humphrey, that is possible; and I would not have the life of a fellow-creature on my conscience.”

”I think it would be advisable, Edward, that I should set off early to-morrow on the pony, and see Oswald, tell him all that has occurred, and show him where the pitfall is.”

”I believe that would be the best plan, Humphrey.”

”Yes,” said Alice, ”it would be dreadful that a man should die in so wicked a state; let him be taken out, and perhaps he will repent.”

”Won't G.o.d punish him, brother?” said Edith.

”Yes, my dear; sooner or later the vengeance of Heaven overtakes the wicked. But I am very tired after so long a walk to Prayers, and then to bed.”

The danger that Edward had incurred that day was felt strongly by the whole party; and, with the exception of Pablo there was earnest devotion and grat.i.tude to Heaven when their orisons were offered up.

Humphrey was off before daybreak, and at nine o'clock had arrived at the cottage of Oswald, by whom he was warmly greeted before the cause of his unexpected arrival was made known. Oswald was greatly annoyed at Humphrey's narration, and appeared to be very much of the opinion of Pablo, which was, to leave the scoundrel where he was; but, on the remonstrance of Humphrey, he set off, with two of the other verderers, and before nightfall Humphrey arrived at the pitfall, where they heard Corbould groaning below.

”Who's there?” said Oswald, looking into the pit.

”It's me, it's Corbould,” replied the man.

”Are you hurt?”

”Yes, badly,” replied Corbould; ”when I fell, my gun went off, and the ball has gone through my thigh. I have almost bled to death.”

Humphrey went for the ladder, which was at hand, and, with much exertion on the part of the whole four of them, they contrived to drag out Corbould, who groaned heavily with pain. A handkerchief was tied tightly round his leg, to prevent any further bleeding, and they gave him some water, which revived him.

”Now, what's to be done?” said Oswald; ”we can never get him home.”

”I will tell you,” said Humphrey, walking with him aside. ”It will not do for any of these men to know our cottage, and we can not take them there. Desire them to remain with the man, while you go for a cart to carry him home. We will go to the cottage, give Billy his supper, and then return with him in the cart, and bring your men something to eat. Then I will go with you, and bring the cart back again before daylight. It will be a night's work, but it will be the safest plan.”

”I think so, too,” replied Oswald, who desired the men to wait till his return, as he was going to borrow a cart, and then set off with Humphrey.

As soon as they arrived at the cottage, Humphrey gave the pony to Pablo to put into the stable and feed, and then communicated to Edward the state of Corbould.

”It's almost a pity that he had not killed himself outright.” observed Oswald; ”it would have been justice to him, for attempting your life without any cause; he is a bloodthirsty scoundrel, and I wish he was any where but where he is. However, the intendant shall know of it, and I have no doubt that he will be discharged.

”Do nothing in a hurry, Oswald,” replied Edward; ”at present let him give his own version of the affair, for he may prove more dangerous when discharged than when under your control. Now sit down and take your supper. Billy must have an hour to get his, and therefore there is no hurry for you.”

”That is your gipsy lad, Edward, is he not?” said Oswald.

”Yes.”

”I like the boy's looks; but they are a queer race. You must not trust him too much,” continued Oswald, in an undertone, ”until you have tried him, and are satisfied of his fidelity. They are very excitable, and capable of strong attachment if well treated. That I know, for I did a gipsy a good turn once, and it proved to be the saving of my life afterward.”

”Oh, tell us how, Oswald,” said Alice.

”It is too long a story now, my dear little lady,” replied Oswald; ”but I will another time. Whatever he may do, do not strike him; for they never forgive a blow, I am told by those who know them, and it never does them any good; as I said before, they are a queer race.”