Just then the local doctor, for whom some one had run, arrived in his
gig. He, too, knelt beside the injured man, a quick glance having
satisfied him that there was only one patient requiring his care.
Harold stood up and waited. The doctor looked up, shaking his head.
Harold could hardly suppress the groan which was rising in his
throat. He asked:

'Is it immediate? Should his daughter be brought here?'

'How long would it take her to arrive?'

'Perhaps half an hour; she would not lose an instant.'

'Then you had better send for her.'

'I shall go at once!' answered Harold, turning to jump on his horse,
which was held on the road.

'No, no!' said the doctor, 'send some one else. You had better stay
here yourself. He may become conscious just before the end; and he
may want to say something!' It seemed to Harold that a great bell
was sounding in his ears.--'Before the end! Good God! Poor
Stephen!' . . . But this was no time for sorrow, or for thinking of
it. That would come later. All that was possible must be done; and
to do it required a cool head. He called to one of the lads he knew
could ride and said to him:

'Get on my horse and ride as fast as you can to Normanstand. Send at
once to Miss Norman and tell her that she is wanted instantly. Tell