‘How far is it to Jack’s home?’

‘About half a mile, miss.’

‘Is there anyone big and strong who could carry him? Or is there someone close by who owns a pony and trap?’

‘The vicar has one, miss,’ the smallest of the boys piped up eagerly. ‘I can run fast. Shall I go and fetch him?’

Danny grabbed him by the arm. ‘Don’t be stupid, Alfie. We’re supposed to be in school.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about that at the moment.’ Daisy took off her cape and laid it over Jack’s inert body. ‘The important thing is to get help. Run along, Alfie. See how quickly you can get to the vicarage.’

Alfie puffed out his chest. ‘I’m a fast runner.’ He pushed past the silent boys, and sped off.

‘Don’t look, boys,’ Daisy said firmly. ‘I’m going to tear a strip off my petticoat so that I can use it as a bandage. We’ll make Jack as comfortable as possible until help arrives.’ She lifted her skirt and ripped a long strip from the hem of her undergarment. She could see the boys peeping through their fingers, but this was not the time for modesty and the sight of a shapely ankle was not going to do them any harm.

‘He’s groaning, miss,’ Danny said importantly. ‘He’s coming round.’

Daisy worked quickly. She had read about the treatment of fractures in one of Toby’s medical books, although she had never imagined that one day such knowledge might come in useful. She immobilised the arm by making a splint from three of the stronger pieces of wood bound with the material from her petticoat. Jack was moaning and his eyes fluttered and opened. He attempted to sit up, but Daisy restrained him gently.

‘You’re all right, Jack,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve had a fall, but you’re all right now.’

He stared at her blankly. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Daisy Marshall. Your sister Linnet works for my aunt and uncle at Creek Cottage.’

‘I got to go to school.’ He attempted to rise once again, but Daisy shook her head.

‘We need to get you home, and you have to see the doctor. I think your arm is broken, so please don’t try to move.’

He pulled a face. ‘I’ll be for it when I get home.’

‘So will I,’ Danny added grimly. ‘I’ll get a beating from my dad and from Mr Massey.’ His remark was accompanied by a groan of assent from the rest of the boys.

‘Mr Massey?’ Daisy shot him a questioning look.

‘The schoolmaster. We don’t like him.’

Daisy tried to think of something appropriate, but she could remember teachers at the academy for young ladies whom she had hated with a passion. Some of them seemed to have taken pleasure in tormenting the pupils under their care, and she sympathised silently with the boys. She looked up at the sound of hoof beats and the rumble of wheels.

Danny leaped to his feet. ‘It’s the doctor, and Alfie’s sitting beside him in the trap. You’ll be all right now, Jack.’