The silent laugh on Strange’s face broke into sound, above all the bedlam of clang and yell, then it ceased suddenly. Great gouts of blood and foam flew to right and left from the lips and nostrils of the horses, who were blind now in their anguish. “Hold tight, Gwen!” roared her husband hoarsely. The horses swayed and shuddered, screaming with terror. With one despairing shriek, Bell covered his face. The swerving wheel caught in the tram-line and then came the end. CHAPTER XXXV. AS always happens in such cases it was several minutes after the crash before anyone with an ounce of reason in his head appeared on the scene. Then a fellow—he was in the dog line, “and knew a thing or two”—dropped in and took a rapid and comprehensive view of affairs, and by the help of infinite blasphemy did what was best under the circumstances. Strange was only stunned. After a time he sat up, and looked about him. A howl from Bell struck on his ears. He turned and saw the horses shivering among the broken mass of carriage, and the dog-man rubbing their noses to a soft gurgling accompaniment. “Where, where?” he asked faintly, and in reply to a pointed finger, lifted himself up with both hands, and groped half-blindly to a huddled-up lump of muslin and lace. He just knew she was lying there, cold, and white, and moveless. He touched her forehead; it was like marble. He laid his hand on her heart; it was still. A sudden wonder seized him as to who had undressed and covered her with such lovely decency, and he looked with half vague inquiry at the two women hovering near. As a matter of fact it was the dog-man who had done it, with his eyes turned on the two women whom he cursed foully the whole time. “Have you sent for a doctor?” demanded Strange, forcing the dizziness out of his brain. “Yes, yes,” was yelled from twenty throats, “and here he is.” He was a sufficiently foolish young man, and seemed floored. “Live far from here?” he asked. “In Ebury Square,” said Strange, “is there any danger in taking her so far?” “None, if conveyed on boards in a four-wheeler.” Strange saw at once that the dog-man was the only one who had his senses about him; Bell, though absolutely unhurt, was altogether useless, and the other man had been left at the inn. “You know the horses and cabs here about?” said Strange. “Get the smoothest cab and some boards, and here, you’ll want help, don’t spare tips.” The man went, and was back before the doctor had made up his mind what to say to cover his ignorance. A fat woman, who had lent the mattress to cover the boards, and who had been hovering over his wife for some time, here called Strange aside. “You had better have your own doctor at once,” she said, “that there young man is soft. She wants skill, and, sir,” she added, with a soft twiddle of her thumb, “I have my suspicions.” Strange looked enquiringly at her, and a cold shiver ran down to his toes.