"Will she come to, sir?" whispered the housekeeper, with her voice trembling. "Yes, I think the worst is over. The medicine I gave her is counteracting the effects of the drug." "Oh, oh, oh!" burst out Becky; and she flumped down on the carpet and caught one of Kate's hands, to lay it against her cheek and hold it there, as she rocked herself to and fro. "Becky! Becky! you mustn't," whispered her mother. "Let her alone; she will do no harm," said Leigh, quietly. "Are--are you going to send for the police, sir?" faltered the woman. "No, certainly not yet," replied Leigh; and he went back into the hall. "I say," said Claud, in a voice full of awe, "I'm jolly glad you've come. He ain't dying, is he?" For answer Leigh went down on one knee, and made a fresh examination. "No," he said at last; "but he is very bad. I cannot help carry him, but he must be got into one of the rooms." "Fetch that old girl out, and we'll carry him," said Claud; and after a moment or two's thought Leigh went to the library, stood for a while examining his patient there, and then signed to Becky and her mother to follow him. Under his directions a blanket was brought, passed under the injured man, and then each took a corner, and he was borne into the dining-room and laid upon a couch. "I don't like to call in police, or a strange surgeon," Leigh whispered to Claud. "We do not want this affair to become public." "By George, no!" said Claud, hastily. "Then you must help me. I can do what is necessary; and these women can nurse him." "But I can't help you," protested the young man. "If it was a horse I could do something. Don't understand men." "I do, to some extent," said Leigh, smiling faintly. Then, to the woman, "You can go back now. Call me at once if there is any change." The two trembling women went out, and after another feeble protest Claud manfully took off his coat, and acting under Leigh's instructions, properly bandaged the painful wound made by Garstang's bullet, which had struck high up in Leigh's arm, and passed right through, a very short distance beneath the skin. "A mere nothing," said Leigh, coolly, as the wound was plugged and bandaged, the table napkins coming in handy. "Why, Wilton, you'd make a capital dresser." "Ugh!" ejaculated the young man, with a shudder. "I should like to be down on one. Sick as a cat." "Take a glass of wine, man," said Leigh, smiling. "I just will," said Claud, gulping one down. "Thank you, since you are so pressing, I think I will take another. Hah! that puts Dutch courage in a fellow," he sighed, after a second goodly sip. "It's good port, Garstang. Here's bad health to you--you beast." He drank the rest of his wine. "I say, doctor, you don't expect me to help timber his head, do you?" Leigh nodded, as he drew his shirt-sleeve down over his bandages. "But the brute would have shot me, too." "Yes, but he's hors de combat, my lad, and you don't want to jump on a fallen enemy."