"An English doctor! Oh!" cried John, "there's some good in that.
Some one must take a note down to him at once."
But after some guttural conversation of which he understood only a
word or two, Mr. Graham said—-
"They declare it is of no use. The carriage was ordered at nine. It
is past seven now."
"But it need not take two hours to go that distance downhill, the
lazy blackguards!" exclaimed John.
"In the present state of the path, they say that it will," said Mr.
Graham. "In fact, I suspect a little unwillingness to deprive their
countrymen of the job."
"I'll go," said John, "then there will be no loss of time about
writing. You'll look after Armine, sir, and tell my aunt."
"Certainly, my boy; but you'll find it a stiffish pull."
"I came in second for the mile race last summer at Eton," said
Johnny. "I'm not in training now; but if a will can do it—-"
"I believe you are right. If you don't catch him, we shall hardly
have lost time, for they say we must wait an hour or two for the
Gemmi road to get clear of snow. Stay; don't go without eating.
You won't keep it up on an empty stomach. Remember the proverb."
Prayer had been with him all night, and he listened to the
remonstrance as to provender enough to devour a bit of bread, put
another into his pocket, and swallow a long draught of new milk.
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