They had reached the door leading to the kitchen-wing, and as Hugo thrust it open, Vincent, hard on his heels, demanded: “How many of the servants know about this? Is the entire household attending to Richmond?”

“No, only those three—and Chollacombe, I think,”

He uttered an impatient exclamation under his breath, but by this time Hugo had entered the pantry, and Anthea, squeezing her way in, between his massive form and the door-post, paid no heed.

Richmond, who was lying on the flagged floor, had come round. He was being supported by John Joseph, kneeling behind him, while Polyphant was waving some burnt feathers under his nose, and Chollacombe, looking very much shaken, stood rather helplessly behind Polyphant, holding a glass of brandy in his hand. Richmond’s coat had been cut off, and his shirt ripped away from his left arm and shoulder. Claud, managing to obtain a glimpse into the room over Vincent’s shoulder, recoiled, shuddering, from a scene which did, indeed, resemble a shambles. There seemed to be blood everywhere he looked, even on his valet’s immaculate raiment, and as he invariably felt queasy if he only cut his finger, he could scarcely be blamed for his hasty retreat.

John Joseph looked up under his brows at the Major, saying dourly: “Tha’ll do well to bestir thysen, Mester Hugo, if we bahn to bring t’lad out of this scuddle! Happen t’gadgers will be banging on t’door in a piece, so, if tha wants to be any hand afore, think quick!”

“How badly is he hit?” Hugo asked, putting Polyphant out of his way, and bending over Richmond.

“Nay, it’s noan so bad, but seemingly t’bullet’s lodged.” He shifted Richmond slightly, and raised the folded dishcloth he was holding over an ugly wound high up on Richmond’s shoulder. It began to bleed again, but sluggishly. Hugo saw that the blood was coming mostly from the torn flesh; and a brief scrutiny satisfied him that the bullet, which seemed to have ripped its way at an oblique angle into the shoulder, had not penetrated deeply enough to touch any vital parts. He said cheerfully: “Well, that’s the first thing to be dealt with. But we’ll have him where I can get to work on him. Nay, Anthea, a little blood-letting won’t kill him! One of you bring lights in the morning-room—you, Polyphant! I’ll want a bowl of hot water, plenty of lint, if you have it, and the brandy: take it along there, Chollacombe! Now then, you young good-like-naught!” He stooped, as he spoke, and, without apparent effort, lifted Richmond up in his arms.

Richmond, still dazed and faint, muttered: “Dragoons, I think. Two of them. Couldn’t see clearly—light bad. In the Home Wood. Must have rumbled me.”

“Out of the way, Vincent!” Hugo said, bearing his burden to the door.

“Wait, you fool!” Vincent said. “The boy’s got to be hidden! You can’t take him into the morning-room! If there were dragoons in our grounds they must have a warrant to search: we may have them upon us at any moment! They mustn’t find him here, like this!”

“Nay, we’ll have him in better shape to be looked at. Don’t be a dafthead, man! If it’s Richmond they want, the lad must be here, where he should be! There’s no hiding him: you had as well hand him over to Ottershaw without more ado! We must think of a better way out of the mess than that. Nay, sneck up, Vincent! you’re wasting time, and it may be we’ve very little of it at our disposal.”

Vincent fell back, but said angrily: “What can we possibly do but hide him? He’s led them straight to this house, dripping blood all the way, I don’t doubt, the damned little idiot, and what can we do but get him away?—out of the country, if we can!”

“I’m sorry—they were guarding the Dower House,” Richmond said, very faint still, but in a rather stronger voice. “No light in the window. That’s Spurstow’s signal. Hugo said come to him—in a tight squeeze. I was nearly caught, not far from Peasmarsh. Very tight squeeze!”

Hugo lowered him into a chair by the table in the middle of the morning-room, but kept a supporting arm round him, stretching out a hand for the brandy Chollacombe was still holding. He put the glass to Richmond’s lips, and made him swallow the draught. His face was quite calm, but a little graver than usual; he glanced round, taking note of the bowl of water Anthea had set down on the table, of the lint, and the torn sheets Mrs. Flitwick was assembling; and said, his eyes coming to rest on his groom: “How do you come into this, John Joseph? Were you seen with Mr. Richmond?”

“Nay, I was nobbut taking a stroll, and smoking my pipe, I heard t’shot, but I never saw hair nor hide of any dragoon, nor gadger neither.”

“I shook them off. Only got a glimpse of me,” Richmond said, wincing under Hugo’s hands. “Thought I could reach the house, but I suppose I was losing blood all the way. Found I couldn’t see—began to feel too giddy—” He broke off, settling his teeth, as Hugo began to swab the wound.

“That’s reet enough, Mester Hugo. I saw him come stackering round t’corner of t’ould barn up yonder, and I brung him in nighest-about, and washed t’soot off his face first thing.”

“That’s good; they’ll search through the woods before they come here,” said Hugo, not lifting his eyes from his task. “Get back to your own quarters now, John Joseph: I don’t want you mixed up in this. Tell me, Richmond: why did they shoot at you?”

“I didn’t halt, when one of them shouted out. Couldn’t, because—no time to get rid of—the smock,” Richmond gasped jerkily. “Blacked my face, too—Hugo!”

“I’m sorry, lad, but I’ve got to pack this wound as tight as I can, or we’ll fall all-abits. There was no coming to cuffs?”

“No. I didn’t know they were there, till I heard them shout. Then I ran for it, dodging—this way and that. Know the wood better than they do—didn’t need much light.”

“Ottershaw wasn’t there,” Hugo decided. “He’d have given no order for shooting, and he won’t be suited when he knows you were shot at.”

Vincent, who was holding Richmond’s arm in a firm grip, glanced up at the Major, saying: “If they didn’t catch the boy with smuggled goods, they’ve no case against him. As for shooting at him—in his own grounds, too!—we might use that to scotch the whole business, if it weren’t for the smock, and the black face. You damned young fool, what possessed you to put on that rig?”

“Had to put myself out of twig—didn’t want to be recognized. Before, I’ve always put off my disguise at the Dower House. Tonight, couldn’t. I think—Ottershaw guessed it—some time ago. I knew he was on a hot scent. That’s why I took the risk of getting the goods away as soon as it was dark. It seemed the only chance—hoped there’d be no watch so early. I didn’t want to fall back on—my other plan—but—had to—because—”

“Hold him, Hugo! he’s going off again!” Vincent said quickly, releasing Richmond’s arm to snatch up the decanter of brandy.

“No wish to be troublesome,” said Claud, in an ominously faint voice, “but I think I’ll take a drop myself! Can’t stand the sight of blood: never could! Willing to do any thing in my power, but I can’t and I won’t come near the table till you take that bowl away, so I’ll be obliged to you if you’ll bring a glass over to me, Vincent. Not you, Polyphant! There’s blood all over your coat!”

Vincent glanced towards him, where he sat limply on the sofa, his handkerchief pressed to his month, and exclaiming contemptuously: “For God’s sake, don’t be so lily-livered, you miserable man-milliner! Anyone would think, to look at you, that you’d been wounded! Hell and the devil, he is going faint!” He relinquished the glass he had just filled into Hugo’s hand, and swiftly crossed the room to render rough and ready treatment to his younger brother, thrusting his head down between his knees, and holding it there despite protests from his victim, who tried feebly to free himself, but was only rescued by Anthea’s intervention. She begged Vincent to let him go, so that he could lie flat on the sofa, and recover at leisure. “Take the smelling-salts, Claud, and shut your eyes! You mustn’t faint!” she told him urgently. “Chollacombe, pray fetch another glass directly!”

Richmond, meanwhile, was recovering his colour a little. He swallowed some of the brandy, and murmured: “Not going to go off again. Better now. Give me a moment! It was only—hurts like the devil—what you’re doing!”

“It’s got to be done, lad, if I’m to bring you off. I’ve no time to do more than stop the bleeding the best way I can, and it’s bound to hurt like the devil, for I’m packing it tightly, and you’ve a bullet lodged there, you know. Come, now, swallow another mouthful, and you’ll be champion!”

Richmond obeyed. He was lying relaxed against Hugo’s arm, and he looked up at him, saying: “I lied to you. I had to. It was my responsibility: I couldn’t leave them in the lurch! I had to see all safe. I was in command, you see, because it was my scheme.”

The Major looked down at him, slightly smiling. “Happen you’ll shape to be a good officer, after all,” he said. “Lean forward again now: I’ve nearly done.”

“Go on! I’ve got him,” Vincent said. “I’m damned if I know what we do next, though! You’re not going to try to convince the Excisemen he’s been with us all the evening, are you? If we could get rid of the bloodstains here, in the house, which we’ve no hope of doing, the tracks will lead them to the side-door, as soon as there’s light enough for them to be followed.” He felt Richmond writhe, and his hold on him tightened. “Keep still! You’re very well served if it does hurt: I’ve no sympathy to waste on you! How you can have been such a crass fool as to have gone out on the damned disreputable business tonight, after all that Hugo said to you, after assuring me you weren’t in mischief, inspires me with only one desire, and that’s to wring your worthless neck!”