What was the matter with him? Could he have hurt himself more than he suspected? Before him was a gentleman who sat on a bale of hay, and he seemed to have a bandage on his foot. "Mr. Smith," began the gentleman. "Why! It's Jack Harkaway!--Mr. Harkaway, I mean, pardon the familiarity. How the deuce did you come to ride my horse, sir?" "You're Alfred Van Hoosen?" said Jack, in a faint voice. "Certainly, I am." "Did I win the race?" "Did you win it? Why, man alive! It was the finest race on record, they tell me. Every one is perfectly wild about it, and--" "Excuse me," interrupted Jack. "I know I ought not to have ridden your horse, but I wanted your sister to have the cup, and if you'll accept my apology--" It was now Van Hoosen's turn to interrupt Jack. "Apology! my dear fellow," he said. "I don't know what you mean." "You didn't treat me well the other day, and I know it was wrong to ride your horse." "You have done me the greatest service one man could do another," replied Van Hoosen. "When I sprained my ankle, I hurt it badly, and I am told I shall not get out of the house for a month at least. At present I am suffering terrible torture. If you had not ridden my horse, I should have been a ruined man, for I don't mind telling you I had backed my mount heavily, and I stood to lose more than I can afford. It would have broken my heart to go to my mother and ask her to pay my debts of honor. You have saved me." Jack's face lighted up with a faint smile. It was the brother of the girl he loved who was talking to him. "I'm awfully glad," he said. "It pleases me to help a man out of a bad place. If your man will give me my coat, I'll go home now, and send you the colors in the morning. I've got friends here--drove my drag down, you know, and I fear I have neglected them." "Sit down a moment," replied Van Hoosen. "You're a fine fellow, Harkaway, and I'm sorry for what I said yesterday." "Don't mention it, my dear fellow. I've forgotten it." "I've sent for some wine. Won't you wait?" "Well, yes. Just a moment--the fact is--I'm not well--I've got a sudden vertigo--I--I can't see." He extended his arms and groped his way, toward the door; but ere he reached it he fell on the floor, and the blood flowed again from the wound on his forehead. For a time his senses left him. CHAPTER X. A RECONCILIATION. When Jack Harkaway came to himself he was in a strange room, and he did not know what to make of it. The apartment was elegantly furnished; pictures of value hung upon the walls, and it was evident that he was in the house of people of taste and wealth. "Hello! where am I?" he asked. The heavy damask curtains were drawn around the windows, so that only a faint light penetrated to the bedside. Yet in the imperfect light Jack fancied he saw a shadowy female form, exquisitely symmetrical, get up from a lounge and leave the room.