Shortly he looked much better, and was able to answer the doctor's enquiries. He raised himself half up, turning over on his left side--"Oh, yes, doctor, I'm nearly all right. By Jove! though, don't that hurt," he said, as our friend still continued to examine him--"I'll soon be right, won't I, doctor? Thank you, but don't press so hard! And thank you," he said, turning his eyes round and upon her--"my darling"--he murmured, softly, "what a trouble I am to you." But, strange to say, Lizzie did not look as if she thought it a trouble at all! The doctor was plunged in deep thought, "Humph! very serious, very serious," he exclaimed, shaking his head solemnly, at the same time with a sly twinkle in his eyes--"Very serious, very serious, Master Tom. You've got two ribs smashed, sir, and I think you want to have another. Ha! Ha! Sly dog, sly dog. Never mind, it's a beautiful contusion! Luckily it wasn't the other side, or we would have had your heart gone." "I'm afraid it's gone already, doctor," observed the wounded hero, gazing artfully round at Lizzie, who looked very conscious, "but shall I be able to get round soon?" and he tried to get up, but fell back again into his former position, and looked as if he were going to faint. "Oh, don't move, pray don't move," Lizzie said, laying her hand on his shoulder entreatingly: Tom seized that opportunity to make the little hand a prisoner. Very interesting, was it not, for the old campaigner, who was looking on grimly from a distance? "Don't budge, you young rascal; don't you stir, or we'll have you fainting again, and looking interesting, like my lady, yonder," and the doctor sniggered, for his eyes were sharp, and, I believe, he had fathomed the campaigner's little game--"Don't stir, my boy. You must keep quiet now, but we'll have you on your legs again in a few days." The biggest of the pony carriages, accompanied by a band of gentlemen followers, now drew up in the glen, close to the gnarled old oak, by the stump of which the unlucky object of young Sir Mortimer's gun practice was reclining. Doctor Jolly inspected the vehicle to see whether all his directions had been obeyed; and, finding an old door laid across the seats, on which was a mattress and a bundle of pillows, he said, "That's right, boys. Now bear a hand, and we'll get him in." Supported by the brawny Aesculapius, and the offered arms of a score of others, Tom was lifted carefully into the chaise, and arranged comfortably amidst the pillows. "Now," said the doctor aloud, for the benefit of the company, apparently, but in reality, I think, for little Lizzie's sake, "I want some lady to go along with us, to hold his head up, and carry the salts--I want smelling salts, too--or a vinaigrette, or something of that sort." All the ladies eagerly proffered help, but they were headed by Lady Inskip, who exclaimed--