CHAPTER FOURTEEN

An Attack

The next morning, I awoke early, and left to do business in the market. As I rode there, I saw a tall, thin man on horseback. He called to me—it was Mr Lawrence! I greeted him quite coldly. He rode alongside me as I went, smiling to himself. Had he heard of my disappointment? Did he come to see me in my sadness?

"Markham," he said quietly, "why do you quarrel with your friends, because you have been disappointed? How can you blame me? I warned you before, you know, but you would not—"

He said no more; for I grasped my horse-riding •whip, and hit him on the head with the other end of the whip. Red drops of blood ran down his face. He looked astonished, then fell down to the ground. Had I killed him? I got down from my horse to find out. He was breathing, and began to move. He was just shocked by the fall from his horse.

I then left him. I began to worry about his condition, however, and soon turned back. Mr Lawrence and his horse had moved; he was now sitting next to a tree, and his horse had walked farther on.

I gave him my handkerchief, as his head was still bleeding. Then, I went to fetch his horse.

"Here, you dog, give me your hand, and I'll help you.

He turned away from me in anger. "Leave me alone, please."

I left him to take care of himself. I did not care if he lived or died. As I left, I looked back to see how he was. He had stood up from the ground, but sat down again immediately.

I should have helped him, and taken him home, but his servants would ask many questions about the reason for his injury. Mr Lawrence would soon tell the whole truth himself. If he told lies, I would deny them. If he spoke the truth, I would admit it. Perhaps, he might never say anything, for fear of Mrs Graham's involvement.

I left to do business in town. As I returned home, I was still worried about Lawrence, and so I went to the spot where I had left him. But no, he and his horse were gone.

When I returned home at four o'clock, my mother's first words were "Oh, Gilbert. Such an accident! Rose was shopping earlier in the village, and she heard that Mr Lawrence fell off his horse, and was brought home dying!"

This shocked me a bit, but I knew the story was not true, he was not dying. His injury was not serious.

"You must go and see him tomorrow," said my mother.

"Or today," suggested Rose.

"No, no—how can we know this story is true?" I asked my mother.

"Oh, I'm sure it is! Everyone in the village is talking about it."

"Well, but Lawrence is a good rider. It is not likely that he would fall from his horse."

"The horse kicked him or something. Well, Gilbert," said my mother, "tomorrow you will go see him."

"He and I have been quarreling lately. I cannot go."

"Oh, my dear boy! You have to see him. Do not be so unforgiving!"

"I'll think about it!" I replied.

I sent Fergus to see him the next morning. Lawrence had a small wound on his forehead and a bad cold, which he caught while lying on the ground in the rain.

It was obvious then, he would not blame me for the incident, to protect Mrs Graham.

(end of section)