“I have felt it twice; and therefore you will be pleased to hold your tongue and go to bed.  Have you had any warnings?”

“Yes,—­no,—­that is—­this morning:  but I forgot.  Never mind!—­What matter a hundred years hence I There it is again!—­God help me!”

“Humph!” growled Thurnall to himself.  “I’d sooner have lost a dozen of these herring-hogs, whom nobody misses, and who are well out of their life-scrape:  but the parson, just as he was making a man!”

There is no use in complaints.  In half an hour Frank is screaming like a woman, though he has bitten his tongue half through to stop his screams.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The black hound.

Pah!  Let us escape anywhere for a breath of fresh air, for even the scent of a clean turf.  We have been watching saints and martyrs—­perhaps not long enough for the good of our souls, but surely too long for the comfort of our bodies.  Let us away up the valley, where we shall find, it not indeed a fresh healthful breeze (for the drought lasts on), at least a cool refreshing down-draught from Carcarrow Moor before the sun gets up.  It is just half-past four o’clock, on a glorious August morning.  We shall have three hours at least before the heavens become one great Dutch-oven again.

We shall have good company, too, in our walk; for here comes Campbell fresh from his morning’s swim, swinging up the silent street toward Frank Headley’s lodging.

He stops, and tosses a pebble against the window-pane.  In a minute or two Thurnall opens the street-door and slips out to him.

“Ah, Major!  Overslept myself at last; that sofa is wonderfully comfortable.  No time to go down and bathe.  Ill get my header somewhere up the stream.”

“How is he?”

“He? sleeping like a babe, and getting well as fast as his soul will allow his body.  He has something on his mind.  Nothing to be ashamed of, though, I will warrant; for a purer, nobler fellow I never met.”

“When can we move him?”

“Oh, to-morrow, if he will agree.  You may all depart and leave me and the Government man to make out the returns of killed and wounded.  We shall have no more cholera.  Eight days without a new case.  We shall do now.  I’m glad you are coming up with us.”

“I will just see the hounds throw off, and then go back and get Headley’s breakfast.”

“No, no! you mustn’t, sir:  you want a day’s play.”

“Not half as much as you.  And I am in no hunting mood just now.  Do you take your fill of the woods and the streams, and let me see our patient.  I suppose you will be back by noon?”

“Certainly.”  And the two swing up the street, and out of the town, along the vale toward Trebooze.

For Trebooze of Trebooze has invited them, and Lord Scoutbush, and certain others, to come out otter-hunting; and otter-hunting they will go.