CHAPTER XXXVI.
"This is horrible, Cheveril!" said Dr. Campbell, bending over hispatient. "Every bit of him is mangled except his head. Poor chap, itseems like the work of a beast of prey."
"So it was, Campbell, a human beast of prey! I actually saw Zynool forcehis horse on him, knock him down, and make it trample on his fallenbody," whispered Mark, his eyes still full of the horror of the scene.
"But how in the world did Rayner come to be in the guise of a nativewoman, I should like to know? Did he come to assist the Mussulmans, doyou think? I know he's been intriguing with that villain Zynool. Perhapshe wanted to see the fruits of his handiwork, _incognito_."
"No, I fear it was more than that. Zynool muttered something I only halfunderstood," returned Mark with a troubled air. "They had quarrelled,evidently, and Zynool indicated that Rayner was a fugitive from justice.I only hope it's not true!"
"Well, in a way it don't matter now--not to him, at least, poor fellow.Every organ is smashed. He's living still, though,--his heart'sflickering. Brandy, Tobias," called the doctor to his Eurasian dresser.
A few drops of the stimulant diluted with water were passed between theblanched lips. "We'll cut away those red rags," said the doctor, andadroitly set to work. Presently Rayner was divested of his disguise.Finding his watch and one or two papers in his pocket, and his store ofgold, the doctor handed them to Mark; and after having arranged as besthe could for the comfort of the patient, he was called away to otherurgent cases.
Mark, on his knees beside the low pallet, continued to watch thestricken man in the dim light. The dresser had brought a sponge andcarefully washed the stained face, and the ashen features gleamed likethose of a marble profile.
"What a perfectly beautiful face it is!" murmured Mark to himself. "Yetit lacks strength of character." All at once he recalled the picturedface of Mr. Morpeth's wife which Hester and he had examined that happyafternoon, in which she had seen a likeness to her husband. "A wonderfulresemblance! I can see it now, and just that same something lacking."His thoughts now strayed to Hester, and the trouble hovering over her inthis terrible disaster. Trying and unstable as this man had proved, theshock and horror of this event would mark a terrible crisis in her younglife. He recalled her query, evidently wrung from a sore heart thatmorning at St. Thomas' Mount. Would the Master's shaping process bealways sharp and painful and inscrutable--the tools He used sometimesmaking the poor quivering heart bleed? A sore answer was coming to thatquestion.
Mark's reverie was now disturbed by the approach of the doctor. He wasshowing signs of excitement, and he stooped down and lilted low: "TheCampbells are coming, hurrah, hurrah! The Campbells are coming, hurrah!"
"I know," nodded Mark quietly. "I saw the first of them appearing justat the moment this happened. Otherwise I doubt if even the claim of thispoor fellow should have brought me from my post. The Collector's allright, is he?"
"As right as a trivet, and in great spirits. Rioters on both sidesscuttling like rabbits. The police-peons are now, at last, busy makingarrests and Samptor's striding about like an avenging fate! They've gotZynool--not without a struggle. However, he is nabbed, and the warrantout to search his house at once. Mootuswamy Moodliar has seen to that.It will be the Andamans for him, without doubt. The streets will soon beempty. The soldiers are to camp here for the night, but the danger'sover. Here, alas, we have the worst result of the riot," said thedoctor, glancing round on the rows of wounded men, many of them cryingout in pain, others beyond any expression of their misery.
"Look, Campbell," said Mark, his eyes eagerly fixed on Rayner's face."Isn't there some sign of returning consciousness here?"
A slight tremor passed through the mangled frame, the eyelids quiveredand opened, and Rayner fixed his eyes on Mark's face for a moment, thenclosed them again. Presently, however, Mark found his large, lustrelesseyes resting steadily upon him. The broken man made an effort to speak,but the voice was so low and faint it was difficult to catch the words.
"Cheveril!--It is you--thought I was dreaming--where am I? In Zynool'shouse--I remember. He spotted me--drove his horse on me--my ownAustralian too. He's done for me, Cheveril--every limb--game'sup--nothing matters now----"
His voice died away, but after a moment he roused himself and fixed hiseyes on the pitying face bending over him. "Kind, by Jove! I sawyou--before Zynool--went for me."
"Don't be afraid, Rayner, this is not Zynool's house. It's the hospital,you're all right here," said Mark, taking his limp hand.
"You brought me here--kind--I'll tell Hester." His lips parted in afeeble smile, then his face became convulsed. "Never see Hester again,"he moaned. "It's all up, Cheveril--I'm hunted--you'll not let them takeme--you'll not give me up----?"
"Don't trouble, Rayner. You're quite safe here," said Mark soothingly."The doctor's bringing something to ease you." He laid his hand on thelong, thin fingers, and stroked them gently.
"Now, my dear fellow," said the doctor cheerfully, "this ought to helpyou a bit." He administered an opiate. Soon the eyelids drooped, andsleep visited the dying man.
Mark kept unremitting vigil beside the low mattress through the longhours of the night. At length there was a slight movement; he could seeby the light of the flickering oil-lamp overhead that the eyes of thesufferer were open and turned to him. Hoping he might fall asleep againhe made no response. Then a hand was feebly stretched out to him.
"Yes, I'm here, Rayner! Mark Cheveril--close beside you."
"I know--I know--good--kind--Hester's friend." After a pause he seemedto wish to speak again, though the effort was painful.
"One night I stood by her cot--in her dreams she murmured--'the falseand the true.' It seemed a home thrust--I felt furious at the time.Cheveril--I've been the false--I see it now. You are the true--you'llunderstand better--when you know." His face again became convulsed withemotion, and Mark bent over him with pity in his eyes, unable to utter aword.
The first streak of the dawn began to steal through the open windows.
"Ha, the daylight will be upon us, Hester," cried Rayner, with strangeclearness of tone. He tried to move. A terrible spasm seized him. Markcalled for the doctor, but before he came the sufferer was quiet againand seemed to be sleeping. The doctor stooped over him.
"He's gone, Cheveril," he said quietly. "Your watch is ended. It wasonly a question of hours. Death has been merciful in releasing him sospeedily."
The silver dawn was brightening into day when Mark Cheveril and theweary doctor stood together at the door of the dispensary--Dr. Campbellto snatch a few moments rest at home after the labours of the night;Mark Cheveril to set out with a heavy heart to Madras.
"You'll look in on the Collector after breakfast, Campbell, and see thathe's all right, after last night. I say, didn't he do splendidly?" askedMark, with a light coming into his tired eyes.
"Oh, for the matter of that, some other people did splendidly too! I sawyour tussle over that child with that brute of a Hindu. It wasrefreshing, Cheveril; only, I felt sorry he was a Hindu, and not aMahomedan. Anyhow, I'm bound to say, the Collector held the balance evenwhen put on his mettle. I expect all this will act as a thunderstorm andclear the atmosphere. We'll be well rid of Zynool and some of his crew.Yes, I'll look in for a moment and see Worsley. Any message? I forget ifhe knew Rayner? Of course I'll tell him of the tragedy, and of yourshare in it."
Mark, on thinking of it, felt relieved that he would not be the bearerof the tidings of the terrible fate of the man he knew the Collector hadgood reason to dislike. He was conscious that in Mr. Worsley's feelingsthere would be a sense of relief when he heard of the swift releasewhich this tragedy would bring to the young wife whom he had liked andpitied. For his own part, the knowledge of that release brought nolightening as yet to his sad thoughts. Through the long hours of thepast night he had come face to face with a great experience. He hadwatched "a human soul take wing," and the sense of it being a "fearfulthing" to see was very present with him. So heavily did it lie o
n hisheart, he had no thought for aught else; and to Hester, he knew theawful news must bring unutterable pain. To know that the man with whomshe had embarked on life's voyage--though he had proved not "one to ridethe water with," as the saying is--had been tragically engulfed, wouldindeed prove a crushing blow. How could he, just because he was so fullof comprehending sympathy, be the one to carry the news to the wife thattheir bark had foundered in dark, treacherous waters, and that he whoshould have been the mainstay was lost in the whirlpool?
More and more did he shrink from the task before him as the traincarried him to Madras.
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life Page 36