"Now, squire," he said, "where are you hurt?"

The man, who seemed to be lying all of a heap, uttered a groan, and Hopley held the light nearer.

"I'm fear'd he's got it badly, Polly," growled the keeper. "Hah!"

"Oh, father!"

"None o' my doing, my la.s.s. Here, all on you. This is a madgistrit's business, and I don't want to get credit for what I never did. So just look."

He held the lantern down for us to see.

"He's got one o' them poaching guns, you see, with a short barrel as unscrews in the middle, and he must ha' been taking it to pieces when it was loaded, and shot hisself when running among the bushes."

"Why, it's Magglin!" I shouted excitedly.

"What!" cried the keeper, holding the lantern lower, and Polly uttered a cry. "Magglin it is!" he said, as the man opened his eyes, and gazed wildly up at the lantern.

"Where are you hurt, my lad?" said the keeper quietly.

"My arm! my arm!" groaned the man piteously.

The keeper took out his knife, and, giving Mercer the lantern to hold, deliberately slit up the sleeves of the injured man's jacket and shirt.

"Hah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "He's put the whole charge o' shot through his arm, above the elbow;" and, hurriedly taking a piece of cord from his jacket pocket, Hopley made a rough tourniquet, and stopped the bleeding as much as he could.

"You, Polly," he said as he worked, "go down to the house and see Sir Orkus. Tell him all about it, and ask him to send help, and some one off for the surgeon. One of the young gents'll go with you, I dessay."

"I'll go with her," said Mercer, and they hurried away.

"There," said Hopley, as he finished his rough dressing of the wound, "I can't do no more, and we can't carry him to my place. We must wait."

"Oh, Master 'Opley, sir," groaned the unfortunate man, "is it very bad?"

"Wait and hear what the doctor says, when he comes. I didn't do it, did I?"

"No, sir; I was taking the gun to pieces, and she--Oh!"

"Bear up, man, bear up."

"I'll--I'll never go poaching any more," groaned Magglin, and his head fell back.

"Never with two arms, my lad," said the keeper. "Poor fellow! my fezzans do tempt 'em. He's fainted. Could you take the lantern, sir, and find your way to my cottage?"

"Yes," I said eagerly; "what shall I do?"

"Open the corner cupboard, sir, and you'll find a small flask on the top shelf--flask with a cup on it. Bring it, please. It's brandy: drop'll bring him round."

I went off directly, saying a word to Lomax as I went, and returning pretty quickly with the spirit, which had the effect of reviving the sufferer.

Then we waited, till at the end of half an hour we heard voices, then saw lights, and the General, with Polly, the butler, two gardeners, and the groom, came up, the coachman having driven off to fetch the doctor; and the wounded man was carefully raised, placed on a rug, and carried off by four men, Hopley and the General following with the other prisoner, who could walk, while Lomax and we two boys went slowly back toward the school, talking about the exciting scene.

"I say, young gents," said Lomax suddenly, "it'll all come out about your breaking barracks."

"Yes, Lom," I said; "we shall be found out."

"Of course. You'll have to go with me as witnesses."

"Yes. What had we better do?"

"Go and make a clean breast of it to the colonel in the morning."

"To my uncle?"

"No, no; the Doctor. Good-night."

We slipped in as we had come out, reaching our room unheard, but it was a long time before excitement would let us sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

It required some strength of mind to go straight to the Doctor's study next morning, tell him the whole truth, and ask for his forgiveness.

But we did it, and though he looked very serious, and pointed out our wrong-doing strongly, he forgave us, and became deeply interested in the affair, making us relate all we had seen.

"I heard of the encounter as soon as I came down," he said. "Lomax ought to have sent you both back to your room. So it was that labourer.

Poor fellow! I gave him a fresh chance twice over, but I'm afraid he is a ne'er-do-weel. However, he is severely punished now."

The man Lomax knocked down went before the magistrates, and was packed off to prison, but Magglin had to go up to London, to one of the great hospitals, and some months after, the chief magistrate in our district, that is to say, General Sir Hawkhurst Rye, had him up before him in his library, and punished him.

Bob Hopley told me all about it, just after he had announced, with a good many grins and winks, that Polly was--"Going to be married to master's favourite groom, and they're to live at Number 2 lodge."

"And how did he punish him, Bob?" Mercer said eagerly.

"Punished him, sir? why, he's took him on as a watcher under me. Says poachers make the best keepers; but, o' course, he can't never be a keeper, with only one arm."

"Ah," I said thoughtfully, "you said he would lose his arm."

"Yes, sir, and they took it off pretty close. But there, I think he'll mend now."

My story, (or rather my random notes), of my old school-days is pretty well ended now, though I could rake out a good deal more from the dark corners of my memory. For, after that adventure in the wood, the time soon seemed to come when Tom Mercer had to leave, to begin his course of training for a surgeon, while I was bound for Woolwich, to become a cadet.

It was a sad day for me when I first went to "Old Browne's," but it was a sadder day when I left, for I felt very sore at heart, and it required all my strength of mind to keep up a brave show.

For every one was very kind, and it was like parting from old friends whom I might never see again. The boys were all out in the front drive, where the General's carriage stood waiting to take me and my mother to meet the London mail coach, and the two gentlemen were with us. For my mother and my uncle had come down to fetch me, and say a few kind words to the Doctor and Mrs Doctor, as well as to visit Sir Hawkhurst. I saw Lomax too, and Mr Rebble and Mr Hasnip, at the door, and it seemed as if there was always some one fresh to shake hands with, the old sergeant shaking mine with both his, and his voice sounded very husky as he said,--

"You won't forget your drill, sir, nor your balance in the saddle; heels well down, and ride your horse on the curb, mind--don't forget, and-- and--"

The old fellow could get no further. The tears started to his eyes, and to hide his emotion, and to save me from breaking down, he drew himself up stiffly and saluted me.