Bewitched (Bantam Series No. 16) Read Online Free PDF Page B

demanded, and Mrs. Meedham and several house-maids who were congregated round the door hurried to fetch what he required.
    “Are there any bones broken?” the Marquis asked.
    “I can’t tell as yet, M’Lord,” Hobley answered. “Did the wheel pass over her?”
    “I cannot be sure,” the Marquis replied. “It happened so quickly.”
    He paused and added:
    “It was my fault, Hobley. I was driving too fast.”
    “ ’Tis not often you have an accident, M’Lord,” Hobley said, and added reassuringly: “I’ve an idea this is not as bad as it looks!”
    “But she is unconscious.”
    “That is because of the wound on her head,” Hobley replied. “Leave her with me, M’Lord. I’ll find out what is wrong and let Your Lordship know if it is necessary to send for the Doctor.”
    “Thank you, Hobley,” the Marquis said with a note of relief in his voice.
    He left the room.
    As he crossed the landing it was to see Mrs. Meedham and the house-maids hurrying down the passage carrying jugs of water, bandages and towels in their hands.
    He went downstairs and, ignoring the Salon where he knew the Butler would have laid out wine and refreshments, he walked instead down the passage which led to the Library.
    One of the most impressive rooms in the house, it had been completely renovated in his father’s time, who had also added two or three thousand volumes to the books already collected by his grand-father.
    Seated at a desk in the centre of the Library was an elderly man with white hair.
    He looked up indifferently as the Marquis opened the door, then rose with an exclamation of surprise and pleasure.
    “I was not expecting you, My Lord. Why did no-one tell me you were coming?”
    “It is a surprise,” the Marquis said. “I only decided last night it was necessary for me to visit the country.”
    He was speaking to the man who had been his Tutor, friend and companion for many years.
    The Reverend Horace Redditch had been employed by the late Marquis to tutor his son before he went to Eton.
    He had fitted in so well and been so liked by the whole family that in time he became the Marquis’s personal Chaplain, as well as being Librarian and Curator.
    He was known by everyone in the House and on the Estate as “The Reverend,” and enjoyed the familiarity which made it a term of affection.
    He had accompanied the present Marquis as a young man on many visits around the country. They had once spent a delightful holiday in Ireland combining learning with the pleasure of salmon fishing.
    “It is nice to see you, Sir,” the Marquis said, with a note of affection in his voice which few people evoked from him.
    “Are you enjoying London?” The Reverend enquired.
    “Not particularly!” the Marquis admitted. “As a matter of fact I have just had an accident. I knocked down a Gypsy girl. She is upstairs and Hobley is attending to her.”
    “A Gypsy?” The Reverend repeated. “Well, that is not surprising. It is the time of year when they visit us.”
    “Tell me about them,” the Marquis said.
    “It was your grand-mother, I believe, who gave them permission to camp on the Estate. She was always sorry for everyone who was homeless and I think too she was very interested in Gypsy people who wander over the earth with no settled abode.”
    “I really know very little about them,” the Marquis said.
    “They came originally from India,” The Reverend replied. “Which of course accounts for their dark hair and dark skins.”
    “And they have been nomads ever since?”
    “There are of course numerous legends and explanations as to why they can never settle down.”
    “Are there many Gypsies in England?”
    “Quite a number, I believe,” The Reverend replied. “But they are to be found in every country. If you are interested I must see if we have any books about them.”
    The Marquis shrugged his shoulders.
    “I seem to remember that the Game-keepers dislike them, thinking that they poach the