I waited till he was quite gone, and then passed down the path he had come by. I saw nothing to justify alarm, so I walked a little in the same direction, looking to the right and left. In a little opening among the moss-grown trunks of the trees, I soon saw something that frightened me. It was a man lying on his back, deadly pale, upon the ground; his waistcoat was open, and his shirt-front covered with blood, that seemed to ooze from under his hand, which was pressed on it; his hat was on the ground, some way behind. A pistol lay on the grass beside him, and another not far from his feet.
I was very much frightened, and the sight of blood made me feel faint. The wounded man saw me, I knew, for his eyes were fixed on me; his lips moved, and there was a kind of straining in his throat; he said a word or two, though I could not at first hear what. With a horrible reluctance, I came near and leaned a little over him, and then heard distinctly:
I bethought me instantly of the neighbouring farm-house of Plas Ylwd, and knowing this little forest tract well, I ran through it nearly direct to the farm-yard, and quickly succeeded in securing the aid of Farmer Prichard and all his family, except his wife, who stayed at home to get a bed ready for the reception of the wounded stranger. We all trooped back again through the woods, at a trot, I at their head, quite forgetting my dignity in my excitement. The wounded man appeared fainter. But he beckoned to us with his hand, without raising his arm, and with a great effort he said: "The blame is mine--all my fault--remember, if I die. I compelled this meeting."
I got Prichard to send his son, without a moment's delay, to Cardyllion, to bring Dr. Mervyn, and as they got the bleeding man on towards Plas Ylwd, I, in a state of high excitement, walked swiftly homeward, hoping to reach Malory before the declining light failed altogether.
I got home just as the last broad beam of the setting sun was spent, and twilight over-spread churchyard and manor-house, sea and land, with its grey mantle. Lights were gleaming from the drawing-room window as I approached; a very welcome light to me, for it told me that Laura Grey had come down, and I was longing to tell her my story. I found her, as I expected, seated quietly at our tea-table, and saw, in her surprised and eager looks, how much she was struck by the excitement which mine exhibited, as, without waiting to take off my hat or coat, I called on her to listen, and stumbled and hurried through the opening of my strange story.