Diana slipped an arm under his shoulder and cast an anxious glance at the footman, hurrying towards them.

“Quick!” she commanded. “Sir, you are faint! You must allow my servant to assist you to the coach.”

Jack forced a smile.

“It is⁠—nothing⁠—I assure you⁠—pray do not⁠—I⁠—” and he fainted comfortably away into stout Thomas’s arms.

“Carry him into the coach, Thomas!” ordered the girl. “Mind his arm, and⁠—oh! his poor shoulder. Aunt, have you something to bind his wounds with?”

Miss Betty hurried forward.

“My darling child, what an escape! The dear, brave gentleman! Do have a care, Thomas! Yes, lay him on the seat.”