must be prepared, in which the arm of this gentleman can be dressed.”

“I will attend to that myself, Cousin Elizabeth,” observed Richard,
somewhat haughtily. “The young man will not suffer because Marmaduke
chooses to be a little obstinate. Follow me, my friend, and I will
examine the hurt myself.”

“It will be well to wait for the physician,” said the hunter coldly;
“he cannot be distant,”

Richard paused and looked at the speaker, a little astonished at the
language, and a good deal appalled at the refusal. He construed the
latter into an act of hostility, and, placing his hands in the pockets
again, he walked up to Mr. Grant, and, putting his face close to the
countenance of the divine, said in an undertone:

“Now, mark my words—there will be a story among the settlers, that all
our necks would have been broken but for that fellow—as if I did not
know how to drive. Why, you might have turned the horses yourself,
sir; nothing was easier; it was only pulling hard on the nigh rein,
and touching the off flank of the leader. I hope, my dear sir, you
are not at all hurt by the upset the lad gave us?”

The reply was interrupted by the entrance of the village physician.




CHAPTER VI