I shall never forget the house when we got back. Jessup, in his terror, had made off for his home, running most of the way--seven miles. He was in the same boat as Wolfe, except that he escaped injury--had gone over the stile in defiance of orders, and got on the waggon. Barrington was lying in the blue-room; and Mrs. Frost, frightened out of bed, stood on the landing in her night-cap, a shawl wrapped round her loose white dressing-gown. She was ill at the time. Featherstone came striding up the road wiping his hot face. "Lord bless me!" cried Featherstone when he had looked at Wolfe and touched him. "I can't deal with this single-handed, Dr. Frost." The doctor had guessed that. And Roger was already away on a galloping horse, flying for another. He brought little Pink: a shrimp of a man, with a fair reputation in his profession. But the two were more accustomed to treating rustic ailments than grave cases, and Dr. Frost knew that. Evening drew on, and the dusk was gathering, when a carriage with post-horses came thundering in at the front gates, bringing Mr. Carden. They did not give to us boys the particulars of the injuries; and I don't know them to this day. The spine was hurt; the right ankle smashed: we heard that much. Taptal, Barrington's guardian, came over, and an uncle from London. Altogether it was a miserable time. The masters seized upon it to be doubly stern, and read us lectures upon disobedience and rebellion--as though we had been the offenders! As to Jessup, his father handed him back again to Dr. Frost, saying that in his opinion a taste of birch would much conduce to his benefit. Barrington did not seem to suffer as keenly as some might have done; perhaps his spirits kept him up, for they were untamed. On the very day after the accident, he asked for some of the fellows to go in and sit with him, because he was dull. "By-and-by," the doctors said. And the next day but one, Dr. Frost sent me in. The paid nurse sat at the end of the room. "Oh, it's you, is it, Ludlow! Where's Jessup?" "Jessup's under punishment." His face looked the same as ever, and that was all that could be seen of him. He lay on his back, covered over. As to the low bed, it might have been a board, to judge by its flatness. And perhaps was so. "I am very sorry about it, Barrington. We all are. Are you in much pain?" "Oh, I don't know," was his impatient answer. "One has to grin and bear it. The cursed idiots had stacked the wheat sloping to the sides, or it would never have happened. What do you hear about me?" "Nothing but regret that it----" "I don't mean that stuff. Regret, indeed! regret won't undo it. I mean as to my getting about again. Will it be ages first?" "We don't hear a word." "If they were to keep me here a month, Ludlow, I should go mad. Rampant. You shut up, old woman." For the nurse had interfered, telling him he must not excite himself.