"No, my lad, not with the water rooshing down like this; it's beyond human work, and--Hi! run--run!"

He caught at Jerry again, and the two men started to run for a few yards, then turned to look back, as, after several warning cracks, the whole of the great white timber-built mill literally crumbled down over its undermined foundations and disappeared in the surging waters.

"I knowed it!" panted the miller. "Poor old place! I've spent many a happy year there. Well, I come in time to save your life, squire."

"And I come to try and save his, but not in time," groaned Jerry. "Oh, my poor dear lad!" he continued, as he leaned his arm against a tree and bent his head upon it to weep aloud, "you were the master, and I'm only a servant, but I'd ha' most give my life to ha' saved yours, that I would. Yes!" he cried, fiercely, now in a wild, hysterical voice; "it would ha' been better if you, too, hadn't come in time!"

CHAPTER EIGHT.

ANOTHER TURN OF THE WHEEL.

As if heartily ashamed of his weakness, Jerry suddenly straightened himself up, and turned angrily upon the miller.

"Don't you never go and say you saw me making such a fool of myself!" he cried.

The man shook his head.

"Think it's any good to go up to the town for a boat?"

"If you want to drown yourself," was the reply. "I wouldn't trust myself in no boat till the water goes down. I shouldn't mind the rowing down; but you'd never know where you'd got to, and be capsized on a willow stump, or against some hedge, before you had gone a mile."

"But we might find him," said Jerry, looking piteous once more.

"Ay, you might find him, my lad. There's no knowing."

"But you think we should not?"

"Sure of it!"

Jerry turned away without a word, leaving the miller staring blankly at the spot where the old place had stood, and hurried back toward the town.

"Past seven!" he muttered, "and all those boots and shoes waiting.

Breakfast'll have to be late."

It sounded strange, but it was quite natural for him to mix up his daily work with this business; and upon reaching the house, as if feeling satisfied that there was no more to be done, he hurried about over his valeting, beginning with Mr Draycott, but found that he was not in his room.

The tutor came, though, five minutes later, and, meeting his man, exclaimed with animation:

"Better news, Brigley."

"No, sir," said Jerry, shaking his head. "Worse--much worse!"

"How dare you, sir?" cried the tutor, irritable from a sleepless night.

"I tell you the news is better, and we have hopes."

"And I tell you, sir, that the news is worse."

Mr Draycott stared at his man, and began to frown. Strange suspicions attacked him as he saw that Jerry looked rough and unkempt. His hair was not brushed; he had evidently not washed that morning, and his Oxford mixture coat was marked by flour.

"By the way, sir," said the tutor, angrily, "where have you been? I rang twice, to send you to the doctor's, but the bell was not answered.

Were you not up?"

"Not up, sir? Oh, yes; I was up and out long enough ago!"

"Out?"

"Yes, sir," said Jerry, speaking very st.u.r.dily and solemnly; and he related all that he had seen, with the result that the tutor sank into the nearest chair, looking ghastly, and with his lips moving, but not uttering a sound.

Jerry stood looking down at him sadly, and at the end of a few minutes he filled a gla.s.s from a waterbottle and handed the water to his master, who swallowed it hurriedly.

"This is too dreadful," said the latter, huskily; "too dreadful! But are you sure, my man--are you sure?"

"Yes, sir, sure enough!" replied Jerry, with a hoa.r.s.e sob. "The miller saw him just before."

"A terrible business--a terrible business! I thought we were beginning to see daylight again; but--poor weak rash boy!--this is ten times worse!"

"Yes, sir--a hundred times!" said Jerry, with a groan; and master and man gazed in each other's eyes for some time in silence, till Mr Draycott gave a start.

"I am so stunned and helpless with this trouble upon trouble," he cried huskily, "that I can hardly think--I can hardly believe it true. Tell me what you have done. You gave notice to the police, of course?"

"The police, sir?" said Jerry, with a vacant look. "No; I never thought of that!"

"And you have not given the alarm--sent people down the river in boats?"

Jerry shook his head in a weary, helpless way.

"Quick, then; do something, man!" cried Mr Draycott, wildly. "Run to the station and tell the inspector; they will take steps at once."

"I--I thought you would want to hush it up, sir."

"Hush it up, man!" cried the tutor, angrily. "You are crazy!"

"Yes, sir, pretty nigh," said Jerry, pitifully. "My head feels as if it won't go; and I don't know what I'm saying half my time."

"I beg your pardon, Brigley," cried the tutor. "I spoke too hastily. I quite understand your feelings; but steps must be taken instantly. The truth must be known--the cruel truth!" he added, with a groan. "Yes; what is it?"

There was a tap at the chamber door, and Jerry went to open it.

"Please tell master that the London doctor has come in from the hotel and wants to see him directly."

"Ah, yes," said the tutor, who had heard every word; "I thought he would come early. Go on to the station, Brigley; tell them poor Sir Richard must be found. I'll go down to see the doctor."

Each departed upon his mission, and half an hour after the London surgeon took his departure, confirming his colleague's opinion that a great change for the better had taken place in Mark Frayne.

"Youth, my dear sir--youth! He has rallied wonderfully, and I feel that we may hope."