Mr. Dinsmore leaned back in the carriage with a groan and did not speak
again.

In another moment they had stopped, and flinging open the door, he sprang
to the ground, and hurried toward the little group, who were still
gathered about Elsie just as Harry had left them; some looking on with
pale, frightened faces, others sobbing aloud. Walter was crying quite
bitterly, and even Enna had the traces of tears on her cheeks. As for
Arthur, he trembled and shuddered at the thought that he was perhaps
already a murderer, and frightened and full of remorse, shrank behind
the others as he saw his brother approach.

Elsie still lay with her head in Carry's lap.

Hastily pushing the others aside, Mr. Dinsmore stooped over her, sorrow
and intense anxiety written in every line of his countenance.

Again Elsie opened her eyes, and smiled faintly as she saw him bending
over her.

"My precious one," he murmured in a low, moved tone, as he gently lifted
her in his arms; "are you much hurt? Are you in pain?"

"Yes, papa," she answered feebly.

"Where, darling?"

"My ankle, papa; it pains me terribly; and I think I must have hit my
head, it hurts me so."