"Badly injured," he said, after a rapid examination. "Someone had better ride over and get a carriage from the nearest place--an open carriage in which a hurdle and mattress can be laid. I'll stay and do my best, but I should telegraph to town for Sir Randall Bray. An operation will be necessary. Are any of the lady's friends here?" "No; but I saw Major Rolph leading the field half-an-hour ago. This is Mrs Rolph." Oldroyd started, and bent down over the insensible woman for a moment, at the same time softly pressing back the thick, dark hair from her clammy brow, and there were the lineaments he had not before recognised; it was the face of the keeper's daughter, softened and refined, though now terribly drawn with pain. "Yes, doctor, she's gettin' over it," said Hayle, one day when Oldroyd met him close to Brackley. "But she's had a near shave. It's you, though, as saved her life, same as you did mine." "I'm glad she's better, I'm sure," said Oldroyd. "And you--do you ever feel your old wound?" "Oh, yes, just a twinge or two when the weather changes. But Sir John's very kind, and things go very easy with me now, thanks to you, sir-- thanks to you." "Oh, all right, Hayle, all right. Got a good show of pheasants this winter? Plenty left?" "Heaps, sir. Oh, you may trust me. I look pretty sharp after 'em, I can tell you. I know, I do." The great dark fellow gave a solemn wink as he stood before Oldroyd, in his brown velveteen coat and buttons, with a capital double gun under his arm. "Yes, I suppose you do," said the doctor. "Game-keeping is better than poaching, eh?" "When you've got a good master, sir. But, look here, sir, when are you coming over? Sir John said you were last week." "As soon as I can; too busy yet." "When you do, sir, you shall have as fine a bit o' shooting as a gentleman could wish to have. Talk about a warm corner, sir; it shall be the best in the whole preserves." "Well, I'm glad your daughter is getting better. Is there any prospect of her coming down here?" "Not a bit, sir, and I don't know as I want her. They don't want me, and I don't want them. You see I'm not a fool, doctor. I know well enough that if I went seeing 'em, it would look bad before the servants. I shouldn't be comfortable. I should want to go down in the kitchen to have my meals, so I don't go." "Perhaps it is wise," said Oldroyd. "I'm sure it is, sir. He's made a lady of her, and, of course, he couldn't make a gentleman of me. Judy sends me some money now and then, but I allus have it sent back. I couldn't take his money. He don't like me, and has never forgiven me, and I don't like him. Poor lass! She'd have done better and been happier if she'd stopped at home, and took to some stout young chap of our lot." "Poacher?"