Two of the poachers had been overpowered, after a desperate resistance, and taken; but the rest, all armed with sticks, or some other weapon of defence, had succeeded in getting clear away, though not without injuring, not only Robert Vavasour, but two of the night watchers also. One man kept his bed for weeks afterwards, and was unable even to appear and give evidence against the two men who had been taken; one supposed to be the man who had fired the shot, either purposely or accidentally, that had wounded Robert, while at the same moment a severe blow from some murderous weapon felled him to the earth, and in the confusion which this occasioned the rest got clear away, though not without a suspicion that some of them had been disabled by the shower of blows with which they were assailed; they proved themselves, as Charles and others had hinted they were, a desperate set of ruffians, whom the recent violent death of one of their band had in no wise alarmed, but the rather made them thirst to revenge it. Charles Linchmore was up betimes the next morning, and away across the park long before any of its inmates save the servants were stirring. He had passed a sleepless night. At one time Amy's love for Vavasour appeared as clear as day; the next he doubted, and could not make up his mind that it was indeed so. Morning found him still unreconciled to the thought, still undecided. Frances might have been mistaken; he would seek Joe, and find out what had been told Amy. It was impossible the man could have any interest in telling him a lie. He had not far to walk, Joe met him at the lodge gate, where he was evidently detailing to the man and his wife who kept it, an exaggerated account of the last night's affray. "Good morning, Joe," began Charles, "how are you and the rest after last night's work? and where are you off to now?" as Joe touched his cap, and was proceeding onwards. "Up to the house, Sir. The Master bade me bring news this morning of the two men who got hurt, Sir." "Well, how are they?" "There ain't much the matter with one, Sir; but Jem's awful bad, his head swelled most as big's two, Sir. Mr. Blane--the village doctor--wouldn't give much for his life, I reckon." "Your Master will be sorry to hear it. And now, Joe, I want a word with you. How came you to tell one of the ladies last night that Mr. Vavasour was dead?" "Please, Sir, I couldn't help it; the lady did look so kind of beseeching at me, and tried to speak; but, poor lady, she was that bad at heart she couldn't say a word. I could no more refuse nor tell her, Sir, I should have been afeard to; unless I'd had a heart as hard as a _haythen's_, and I hadn't, Sir, so just out with the news, and--" "That will do; be more cautious in future."