This letter Mrs Brandon carefully sealed, with its contents, and then returned to watch by Ella's bedside. Soon after eight that morning she dispatched the note by a trusty messenger, to be delivered into no other hands than Charley Vining's-- little wotting the events to take place that day--and into Charley Vining's hands that letter was placed, as we have seen. Sir Philip Vining's coachman was the first to recover himself and to go to his master's assistance, just as, half stunned and confused, Sir Philip was struggling to his feet. "Not much hurt, I think!" said Sir Philip. "But where is Mr Bray?" "There he lies, Sir Philip," said the coachman. And together they went to raise the unfortunate companion of their ride, insensible now, and bleeding from a cut on the temple. "Beg pardon, Sir Philip," said the coachman appealingly. "I've been with you fifteen years now; I hope you won't turn me off for this job. I was driving as carefully as I could." "My good fellow, no; of course not. I was to blame. Thank Heaven there are some men coming!--Bray, my dear friend, how is it with you?" Mr Bray looked up on being addressed, and, with a little assistance, rose to his feet; but he was weak and helpless, seating himself directly after. In spite of the serious aspect of affairs, a little examination proved that, though cut about, and some of the harness injured, the horses were very little the worse; while, with the exception of the loss of some paint and a smashed panel, the carriage, on being placed in its normal position, was found to be quite capable of continuing its journey. Plenty of help had arrived, and the labourers had worked with a will; but upon Mr Bray being assisted to his seat, he seemed so ill and shaken, that Sir Philip gave orders for the carriage to make the best of its way home. "But you will come too?" said Mr Bray feebly. "No," said Sir Philip, frowning angrily; "I shall go forward." And then, without another word, he strode off in the direction of Laneton. Mr Bray was for following him; but the coachman shook his head. "Master's as good and true-hearted a gentleman as ever breathed, sir. Here's fifty--ah, with the way them horses are marked, a hundred and fifty-pounds' worth of damage done in a moment. And does he do what ninety masters out of a hundred would have done--tell me to leave to-morrow? Not he, sir. He just claps me on the shoulder, and says it was his own fault--which it really was, sir, though lots wouldn't have owned to it. But no, sir; Sir Philip's orders was to take you home, and disobeying his orders means throwing away a good place." So, as Sir Philip disappeared down the lane, the carriage was once more put in motion, and dragged heavily through the muddy rutty by-way back towards Lexville.