The sick man near him gave a deep groan, struggled to a sitting posture, then fell to one side in a fit or swoon, his head striking against the wall. The young serving-man uttered an exclamation of distress and helplessness. The man with the plain hat, who had turned away, wheeled and came back with knitted brows. There was some commotion in the room among those who had noticed the matter, but yet no great amount. The old man seemed unknown to some and to others known unfavourably. Aderhold crossed to the bench and bending over the sufferer proceeded to loosen his ruff and shirt. “Give him air,” he said, and then to the tall man, “I am a physician.” They laid Master Hardwick upon a bed in an inner room, where, Aderhold doing for him what he might, he presently revived. He stared about him. “Where am I? Am I at the Oak Grange? I thought I was on the road from London. Where is Will, my man?” “He is without,” said Aderhold. “Do you want him? I am a physician.” Master Hardwick lay and stared at him. “No, no! You are a leech? Stay with me.... Am I going to die?” “No. But you do not well to travel too far abroad nor to place yourself where you will meet great fatigues.” The other groaned. “It was this one only time. I had monies at stake and none to straighten matters out but myself.” He lay for a time with closed eyes, then opened them again upon Aderhold. “I must get on—I must get home—I must get at least as far as the town to-night. Don’t you think that I can travel?” “Yes, if you go carefully,” said Aderhold. “I will tell your man what to do—” The old man groaned. “He works well at what he knows, but he knows so little.... I do not know if I will get home alive.” “How far beyond the town have you to go?” “Eight miles and more.... Doctor, are you not travelling, too? You’ve done me good—and if I were taken again—” He groaned. “I’m a poor man,—they make a great mistake when they say I’m rich,—but if you’ll ride with me I’ll pay somehow—” Aderhold sat in silence, revolving the matter in his mind. “I have,” he said at last, “no horse.” But Master Hardwick had with him a sumpter horse. “Will can now ride that and now walk. You may have Will’s horse.” He saw the long miles, cold and dark, before him and grew eager. “I’m a sick man and I must get home.” He raised himself upon the bed. “You go with me—you’ve got a kindly look—you do not seem strange to me. What is your name?” “My name is Gilbert Aderhold.” “Aderhold!” said Master Hardwick. “My mother’s mother was an Aderhold.” CHAPTER V THE ROAD TO HAWTHORN