can handle Father from here, Dr. Scylding," I assured the agitated physician. "Go do what you feel led to do."

Charlie went to bring the carriage and a kindly chef lent a hand to situate Father as comfortably as possible in the floor board. I sat on the floor holding Father's head in my lap. Charlie handed me a flask of Scotch which I kept handy to trickle through Father's lips when he groaned in pain. Thankful for the cover over the carriage, I pulled a lap robe closer around Father as Charlie urged the horse to a trot. I was never as glad to be on my way home and away from the evil mysteries of Drakesheath Hall.