They laid the disfigured dead body of him who but yesterday had been
the beloved and honoured master of the house in the library, where he
had received the ineffectual warning of the gipsy. It was while Douglas
Dale was contemplating the pale, still features of his brother, with
grief unutterable, that a servant tapped gently at the door, and called
Mr. Mordaunt out.
"'Niagara' is come home, sir," said the man. "He were found, just now,
on the lower road, a-grazing, and he ain't cut, nor hurt in any way,
sir."
"He's dirty and wet, I suppose?"
"Well, sir, he's dirty, certainly; and the saddle is soaking; but he's
pretty dry, considering."
"Are the girths broken?"
"No, sir, there's nothing amiss with them."
"Very well. Take care of the horse, but say nothing about him to Mr.
Dale at present."
The visitors at Hallgrove Rectory had received the intelligence which
Sir Reginald Eversleigh had communicated to them with the deepest
concern. Arrangements were made for the immediate departure of the
Grahams, and of Mrs. Mordaunt and her daughters. The squire and Sir
Reginald were to remain with Douglas Dale until the painful formalities
of the inquest and the funeral should be completed.
Douglas Dale was not a weak man, and no one more disliked any
exhibition of sentiment than he. Nevertheless, it was a hard task for
him to enter the breakfast-room, and bid farewell to the guests who had
been so merry only yesterday.
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