She was still in the same position, when Mr. Stringer entered the room, hurriedly, in his dressing-gown. "What is the matter? What is the matter?" he exclaimed. "They tell me you are wounded, Sir Richard?" There were plenty to explain the matter, and each gave his own version of the affair; Mr. Wheatley, in his peculiar and pungent manner; Billy Byles, drily and in a few words; but Zed, with amplification and details, which I would fain have stopped, both on my own account and on account of one of the listeners. He seemed to consider it a point of honour that his master should not have come off worst in the encounter, and he took particular pleasure in dwelling upon the two wounds which Robert Thornton had received. "Ah, yes, he hit him every time," said Zed; "and would have shot him through from side to side the first shot, only, I fancy, he did not want to kill him, Master Stringer. That is how he got his wound; for if he had just sent the ball through his head the first fire, he would not have been wounded at all." "Then is the unfortunate man dead?" asked Bessy, in a low tone. "No, no," I answered; "he is not dead, my dear cousin. I assure you, I did not intend to kill him; but he stood so, that it was almost impossible to prevent his injuring me without the risk of taking his own life. I think--I trust he may still recover." Bessy put her hands over her eyes, and sat silent; and I could not but remember what I had heard on the preceding day, that her father had fallen in an encounter of the same kind. Though Hope is a very persuasive angel, yet there is a certain little devil, lying hidden in some of the deep windings and turnings of the mind, which is always, with low-voiced cunning, suggesting something contrary to the flattering promises of the charmer. Even now he whispered,-- "Bessy finds a parity between the case of her father and that of this man. However she may dislike him--whatever may be her feelings towards me--some of her sympathies are enlisted on his side." I did not like the thought at all; but she sat quietly beside me, and did not seem to entertain the slightest thought of quitting the room. "It strikes me," said Mr. Stringer, after a few unimportant inquiries, that there are altogether too many people here round a wounded man. Sir Richard does not seem to be losing much blood now, and some of us had better retire till the surgeon arrives, who, I find, has been sent for. Bessy--Miss Davenport--I think I must constitute you head nurse; for you know Mrs. Stringer's nerves are not equal to such scenes, and you have been brought up with more strength of character.