The old man's own shelving would add greatly to the unpleasantness of the situation, for, as deputy-coroner, he would have to call a jury himself, and submit the matter to their consideration and himself to their verdict. However, there was no way out of that, so he set to work at once and sent out his summonses, calling the inquest for ten o'clock the next morning, at the Hall; and to relieve Elinor as much as possible, he gave orders to the undertaker at Brentham to do all that was necessary, and sent her word that he had done so. Early next morning, before he was up, young Job was knocking on his front door, with half the pack yelping and leaping outside the gate. "Well, Job? What's it now?" he asked, from his bedroom window. "That gal Mollie says you better come up and see th' missus----" "Why? What's wrong with her?" "_I_ d'n know, n' more don't Mollie. _She_ thinks she's had a stroke." "Wait five minutes and I'll go back with you," and in five minutes they were crunching through the lanes, all hard underfoot with frost that lay like snow, and white and gay with hedge-row lacery of spiders' webs in feathery festoons, and, up above, a crimson sun rising slowly through the mist-banks over the bare black trees. "What makes Mollie think your mistress has had a stroke?" asked the Doctor. "What does Mollie know about strokes?" "I d'n know. 'Sims to me she've had a stroke,' was her very words. She've just laid on her bed all day an' all night without speakin' a word, Mollie says,--eatin' noth'n, and drinkin' noth'n, which is onnat'ral; an' sayin' noth'n, which in a woman is onnat'ral too." "She was quite worn out with nursing Mr Carew." "Like enough. He _wur_ a handful an' no mistake. Th' house is a deal quieter wi'out him. But who's goin' to run th' pack?--that's what bothers me." "Don't you worry, Job. Someone will turn up to run the pack all right." "Mebbe, but it depends on who 'tis. Why not yourself now, Doctor?" "That's a great compliment, Job, and I appreciate it. But," with a shake of the head, "I'll have other work to do," and he wondered grimly where that work might lie. Mollie took him straight up to Mrs Carew's room, where she lay just as she had sunk down on the bed when he sent her away the previous morning. "She's nivver spoke nor moved since she dropped down there yes'day," whispered Mollie impressively. "I covered her up, but she took no notice. An' I brought her up her dinner and her supper but she's never ate a bite." "Get me a cup of hot milk with an egg and a glass of sherry beaten up in it, Mollie," he whispered back. "And I'll see if I can induce her to take it. You did quite right to send for me," and Mollie hurried away with a more hopeful face.