They had lifted Guy up, and were carrying him away, and the fleet-footed Constancy was far ahead, before her words had penetrated Florella's brain. Then she climbed up the hill to the cottage, where she found neighbours gathering, and close behind her came Jem, hauled along by a friend, dripping and scared, but alive, and able to swallow, as a friendly neighbour poured hot drink down his throat. "T' owd gen'leman'd a thrawed me in t' watter, but Mr Guy thrawed 'un in instead, and t' brig smashed," was his story. "Eh, eh!" said Peggy; "he's got 'is death, and Mr Guy, too. Eh! they can baith lig in t' new kirkyard, and me alongside on 'em." There was nothing for Florella to do, and she fled from this grotesque presentment of the mystic horror that haunted her. As she came up to the Hall, the doctor tore past her in his gig, having happily been caught close at hand. Guy had been carried upstairs, and Mrs John Palmer, flurried, but full of kindness, was saying-- "Oh yes, Cosy; yes, you were quite right, my dear. So much more appropriate that he should die under this roof." Florella came in, and sat down in the lamp-lit drawing-room. "Is he dead?" she said, in a slow, dull voice. "They don't know," said Constancy. "We'd better see that they have plenty of hot blankets, and what's wanted." She went off to the kitchen; but Florella sat, stupid and helpless, it seemed to her, for hours. Then there were voices in the hall, and then the sound of the gig driving off at full speed. Still Florella never moved, till Mrs Palmer came in. "The vicar's gone in the gig to get dry things for Godfrey; he won't leave his brother." "Then Guy isn't dead?" said Florella, composedly. "No; just breathing. He was caught in the timber so that his head was above water. It's the shock to the heart that has done it. But he isn't gone--yet." Then Florella came to herself with a shock that was like the stab of a knife. The room swayed and darkened, and she barely kept her senses; but in a moment the life forces seemed to come back again with pain and anguish, but clear and ready for action. "I'll go and help Cosy," she said. Mrs Palmer had an effective maid, who was able to carry out the doctor's directions, and the other women prepared what was needed, till the news came downstairs that the long fainting-fit had yielded at last, and Guy was able to swallow, and had moved and opened his eyes, though without any sign of recognition. "The doctor would stay for the night, and every one not wanted had better go to bed." "Godfrey sits there, at the foot of the bed, like a big dog," said the vicar, as he came downstairs. "He's no earthly good, but he won't stir." When Godfrey, pale with that long, mute watch, and not daring to take hope from the mere fact that his brother still lived, at last went down to breakfast, there by the table sat Constancy, holding Rawdie on her knee, and feeding him with bits of chicken.