'What's become of him?' A very
brief search settled that question. The unfortunate Mr Bailey had been
thrown sheer over the hedge or the five-barred gate; and was lying in
the neighbouring field, to all appearance dead.
'When I said to-night, that I wished I had never started on this
journey,' cried his master, 'I knew it was an ill-fated one. Look at
this boy!'
'Is that all?' growled Jonas. 'If you call THAT a sign of it--'
'Why, what should I call a sign of it?' asked Montague, hurriedly. 'What
do you mean?'
'I mean,' said Jonas, stooping down over the body, 'that I never heard
you were his father, or had any particular reason to care much about
him. Halloa. Hold up there!'
But the boy was past holding up, or being held up, or giving any other
sign of life than a faint and fitful beating of the heart. After some
discussion the driver mounted the horse which had been least injured,
and took the lad in his arms as well as he could; while Montague and
Jonas, leading the other horse, and carrying a trunk between them,
walked by his side towards Salisbury.
'You'd get there in a few minutes, and be able to send assistance to
meet us, if you went forward, post-boy,' said Jonas.
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