It was all too spectacular for word or speech until the thing lay still. Even then the croquet players stood passive for awhile waiting for something to happen. It took some seconds to reconcile their minds to this sudden loss of initiative in a monster that had been so recently and threateningly full of go. It seemed quite a long time before it came into Marjorie's head that she ought perhaps to act in some way. She saw a tall young man wriggling on all fours from underneath the wreckage of fabric. He stared at her rather blankly. She went forward with a vague idea of helping him. He stood up, swayed doubtfully on his legs, turned, and became energetic, struggling mysteriously with the edge of the left wing. He gasped and turned fierce blue eyes over his shoulder. "Help me to hold the confounded thing up!" he cried, with a touch of irritation in his voice at her attitude. Marjorie at once seized the edge of the plane and pushed. The second man, in a peculiar button-shaped head-dress, was lying crumpled up underneath, his ear and cheek were bright with blood, and there was a streak of blood on the ground near his head. "That's right. Can you hold it if I use only one hand?" Marjorie gasped "Yes," with a terrific weight as it seemed suddenly on her wrists. "Right O," and the tall young man had thrust himself backwards under the plane until it rested on his back, and collared the prostrate man. "Keep it up!" he said fiercely when Marjorie threatened to give way. He seemed to assume that she was there to obey orders, and with much grunting and effort he had dragged his companion clear of the wreckage. The man's face was a mass of blood, and he was sickeningly inert to his companion's lugging. "Let it go," said the tall young man, and Marjorie thanked heaven as the broken wing flapped down again. She came helpfully to his side, and became aware of Daffy and her mother a few paces off. Magnet--it astonished her--was retreating hastily. But he had to go away because the sight of blood upset him--so much that it was always wiser for him to go away. "Is he hurt?" cried Mrs. Pope. "We both are," said the tall young man, and then as though these other people didn't matter and he and Marjorie were old friends, he said: "Can we turn him over?" "I think so." Marjorie grasped the damaged man's shoulder and got him over skilfully. "Will you get some water?" said the tall young man to Daffy and Mrs. Pope, in a way that sent Daffy off at once for a pail. "He wants water," she said to the parlourmaid who was hurrying out of the house. The tall young man had gone down on his knees by his companion, releasing his neck, and making a hasty first examination of his condition. "The pneumatic cap must have saved his head," he said, throwing the thing aside. "Lucky he had it. He can't be badly hurt. Just rubbed his face along the ground. Silly thing to have come as we did." He felt the heart, and tried the flexibility of an arm.