before the other could move had toppled through the opening in the hayloft floor to the ground below, where he lay still and silent.
A pitying sound escaped Doctor Carter's lips as he hurriedly descended to kneel beside the injured man. They were alone in the vast, silent barn, for Amos had gone. He first assured himself that Sturgins still lived, then the doctor hurried to the farmhouse, where he informed Mistress Condit in a few terse words of what had happened. Mehitable was summoned and dispatched to the fields for help, and not much later the unfortunate Sturgins was being carried back to the little lean-to room he had occupied behind the kitchen since his arrival.
"La, la, I do protest he is the most luckless of fellows!" cried Mistress Condit, passing ahead of the motionless form to pull back the covers of his pallet.
"'Tis true, wife, to say nothing o' my being held up once again upon ye planting!" agreed the Squire, laying down his end of the burden and motioning Amos to do likewise. "Think ye he will die, sir?" he inquired, turning to the surgeon.
Doctor Carter shook his head. "Nay, I cannot tell; 'twas a most nasty fall. The fellow is built like an ox, despite his short stature, yet I like not his remaining senseless!" he replied doubtfully.
At that moment an unexpected voice spoke from the doorway.
"What, good Doctor Carter, hast secured a patient already?"
