We soon reached the carriage, which we found tied to a tree; for Zed, it appears, would not be debarred the pleasure of sharing in the day's sport. He came hobbling after us, the next instant, however; untied the horses, placed the pistol-case under the seat, and after fumbling for a minute in a corner, produced an old champagne-bottle, which he held out to me, saying,-- "Here, master, take a drop o' dis--good old rye; you look mighty white, and bleeding like piggie. My ole massa never go out to fight without taking some rye wid him in case of de worse." I took some of the whisky, which, to say the truth, was not altogether unnecessary, for I had lost a good deal of blood. Then, requesting my two companions to tie the handkerchief still tighter, I got into the carriage, and we drove off towards Mr. Stringer's. CHAPTER XV. As we came in sight of Beavors, the fact arose suddenly to my remembrance that, although Mr. Stringer and his family themselves were not very early in their habits, Bessy Davenport was generally up and about shortly after daylight. In spite of all that I could do, I was covered with blood; my white summer trousers were soaked and dabbled; and there was no cloak or great coat in the carriage which I could throw over me to conceal the ghastly spectacle. I knew that whatever might be her feelings towards me, the sight would alarm and agitate her; and, turning my head towards Mr. Byles, inquired if we could not get into the house by some back way, which would enable me to reach my room unperceived, and remove the "bloody witness from my person." "Oh, yes, master," answered Zed, taking the words out of Mr. Byles's mouth, and apparently divining instantly what was passing in my mind. "Master Wheatley drive round by the right hand road to the back. Then we go through the pantry-hall, and up the little back-staircase, which runs behind Miss Bessy's room. But she never use it; she always go down the great stairs. Then your room is just opposite, and you can slip in in a minute." Zed's plan seemed admirable, though it did not turn out as well as we expected. We reached the back of the house, indeed, unperceived, and entered what Zed called the pantry-hall. It is wonderful how often when we have laid a scheme for any purpose as perfectly as human calculation could arrange it, some little circumstance occurs which does not usually happen more than once in a year, and throws all our well-conceived arrangements wrong. The very moment after, leaning on Mr. Wheatley's arm, I had entered the pantry-hall by the one door, in came Bessy Davenport by the other, with a bunch of flowers in her hand, exclaiming, "Henry, Henry, give me a glass of water."