Not without inflicting great pain, and drawing forth many a heavy groan, the old man and the young one placed John Ayliffe on the paliasse, and carried him into the cottage, where he was laid upon young Best's bed in the back room. Good Jenny Best, as John Ayliffe had called her--an excellent creature as ever lived--was all kindness and attention, although to say truth the suffering man had not shown any great kindness to her and hers in his days of prosperity. She was eager to send off her son immediately for the surgeon, and did so in the end; but to the surprise of the whole of the little cottage party, it was not without a great deal of reluctance and hesitation that John Ayliffe suffered this to be done. They showed him, however, that he must die or lose his limb if surgical assistance was not immediately procured, and he ultimately consented, but told the young man repeatedly not to mention his name even to the surgeon on any account, but simply to say that a gentleman had been thrown by his horse, and brought into the cottage with his thigh broken. He cautioned father and mother too not to mention the accident to any one till he was well again, alluding vaguely to reasons that he had for wishing to conceal it. "But, Sir John," replied Best himself, "your horse will go home, depend upon it, and your servants will not know where you are, and there will be a fuss about you all over the country." "Well, then, let them make a fuss," said John Ayliffe, impatiently. "I don't care--I will not have it mentioned." All this seemed very strange to the good man and his wife, but they could only open their eyes and stare, without venturing farther to oppose the wishes of their guest.