'London?' shouted the doctor, as the man touched his hat in passing. 'Yes, Sir.' 'Glad o' that,' said the major, looking after him. 'So am I,' said the learned Buddle. 'I don't see how we're to get the bullet out of him, without mischief. Poor devil, I'm afraid he'll do no good.' The ladies that morning had tea in their rooms. It was near twelve o'clock when Lord Chelford saw Miss Brandon. She was in the conservatory amongst her flowers, and on seeing him stepped into the drawing-room. 'I hope, Dorcas, you are not angry with me. I've been, I'm afraid, very impertinent; but I was called on to decide for you, in your absence, and they all thought poor Lake could not be moved on to Gylingden without danger.' 'You did quite rightly, Chelford, and I thank you,' said Miss Brandon, coldly; and she seated herself, and continued-- 'Pray, what does the doctor really say?' 'He speaks very seriously.' 'Does he think there is danger?' 'Very great danger.' Miss Brandon looked down, and then, with a pale gaze suddenly in Chelford's face-- 'He thinks he may die?' said she. 'Yes,' said Lord Chelford, in a very low tone, returning her gaze solemnly. 'And nobody to advise but that village doctor, Buddle--that's hardly credible, I think.' 'Pardon me. At his suggestion I have sent for Sir Francis Seddley, from town, and I hope he may arrive early to-morrow morning.' 'Why, Stanley Lake may die to-day.' 'He does not apprehend that. But it is necessary to remove the bullet, and the operation will be critical, and it is for that specially that Sir Francis is coming down.' 'It is to take place to-morrow, and he'll die in that operation. You know he'll die,' said Dorcas, pale and fierce. 'I assure you, Dorcas, I have been perfectly frank. He looks upon poor Lake as in very great danger--but that is all.' 'What brutes you men are!' said Dorcas, with a wild scorn in her look and accent, and her cheeks flushed with passion. 'You knew quite well last night there was to be this wicked duel in the morning--and you--a magistrate--a lord-lieutenant--what are you?--you connived at this bloody conspiracy--and _he_--your own cousin, Chelford--your cousin!' Chelford looked at her, very much amazed. 'Yes; you are worse than Sir Harry Bracton--for you're no fool; and worse than that wicked old man. Major Jackson--who shall never enter these doors again--for he was employed--trusted in their brutal plans; but you had no excuse and every opportunity--and you have allowed your Cousin Stanley to be murdered.'