The chauffeur seemed to have taken complete command of the situation; he ordered the ladies hither and thither, he bandaged up Captain Ramsay’s head with Aurea’s white scarf--which he tore into strips--whilst Aurea stood by, eager to help, but trembling like an aspen. She had never heard a man moan, or witnessed such a scene. “I think I’ve fixed him up just for the moment,” said Owen, rising, “and now I’ll fetch the doctor. You two ladies won’t mind stopping, will you?” “Certainly not! What do you think we are made of?” rejoined Miss Susan. “Here,”--now sinking down--“place his head in my lap, and just go as hard as ever you can!” “He is in a very bad way, I’m afraid, and I really don’t like leaving you, but there’s no help for it.” Then, after sticking a flaring lamp on the ground beside them, he climbed into his place and sped away. In less than half an hour he had returned, accompanied by Dr. Boas; they found the poor sufferer still alive and moaning, his head supported by Miss Susan, and his lips bathed by her niece. “I half expected this,” said the doctor, as he knelt beside Captain Ramsay. “Internal injuries,” he announced, after a rapid examination, “and fatal.” “The stretcher and the parish nurse will be here presently,” said Owen; and, hearing a familiar voice, Captain Ramsay slowly opened his eyes and asked-- “Oh, it’s cold. Where am I? Where’s Katie?” As he recognised Owen bending over him, he murmured-- “Wynyard, Wynyard--hold on--I’m coming!” “You see he is off his head,” said Miss Susan, “poor fellow; he did not know what he was doing.” Then, as the chauffeur relieved her of the dying man’s weight, he regained consciousness, and, again opening his eyes, he whispered “_Wynyard!_” and passed away in the arms of Wynyard’s son. CHAPTER XXI BY THE SUNDIAL A long time had elapsed since a tragedy or an inquest had taken place in Ottinge; the last had occurred twenty years previously, when Joe Watkins (a village name), being jealous, had thrown his wife down a well, and, despite her prayers, entreaties, and screams, had left her to drown, for which crime he had paid the extreme penalty of the law in Brodfield Gaol. A suicide was something entirely foreign to the character of the community, and the topic was exhaustively debated in the Drum. Joe Thunder gave it as _his_ opinion that the remains of Captain Ramsay--speaking from recollection--would be buried with a stake at a cross-roads--probably at Crampton, being nearest. The village was stirred out of its normal lethargy and, secretly, rather proud of being the scene of a sensation, and newspaper paragraphs.