CHAPTER XXIV
THE FINAL WARNING
But little recollection of the drive remained afterwards in Olwen'smemory. She could recall only the moment when Ninian pulled back thefolds of the enveloping plaid, lifted her and bore her into the Pele.The strait dimensions of the newel stair compelled him to carry herupright, and the pain of her head, thus unsupported, was severe.
There followed only a confused impression of Sunia's sympathetic hands,of being undressed, tended and laid in bed. After this nothing definitefor several days.
The reaction, which Dr. Balmayne had anticipated, supervened. Thatnight her temperature rose, and for some days she alternated betweendelirium and weakness. Her youthful strength, however, very soontriumphed. There was no symptom of pneumonia or any other bad resultfrom her exposure. Her wound healed cleanly and rapidly, and on themorning of the fourth day after the accident she awoke to a normal stateof things.
The room was warm with fire and gay with sunshine. Her head no longerached, and her mind worked clearly. Sunia, as usual, squatted upon thehearth.
"Oh, Sunia," she said suddenly, "what trouble I have given!"
The Hindu rose and came to the bedside with a pleased face. "Come!Missee get back herself," said she cooingly. "All right, so long as sheget well quick."
"I am well. I shall ask the doctor to let me get up to-day."
The ayah's face darkened a little at mention of the doctor. "Humph!First ting you speak of doctor sahib," said she. "He not care how longMissee stay in bed, he allowed come up and see her. English way--badEnglish way. My country, no let pretty doctor see mem-sahibs."
Olwen smiled at the old woman's talk. "There is so much news I want tohear," she said. "You must tell me all about everything. First, wasMadam very vexed with us? Was she very anxious when we did not comehome that night?"
The ayah glanced at her sidelong. "Um--yes. She wonder if you safe andwarm. She think you stop in the farm all a night."
"We hoped she would think that. Now about Mr. Guyse. I hope he was notill afterwards?" She spoke as unconcernedly as she could, turning awayher head.
"He get shocking bad cold. Been two days in his bed. Better now," saidSunia, watching as keenly as a bird the colour that would flicker overthe averted cheek at the mention of Ninian's name.
"I am sorry. He was very good to me all that night. I should havefrozen to death if he had not kept me warm."
"With a clothes off his back," replied the ayah.
"Yes. Now about my own people. Did Madam write to my home, do youknow, Sunia?"
"No, Madam not write. She not know what best to say. Think Misseebetter write her own self, Doctor say, don't frighten 'em, Missee allbetter in a little few days."
Olwen felt grateful. Now that memory was coming back she felt a keendesire that the whole of her adventure should not be known in Bramforth.
The intensity of this desire lit up the episode in an ugly light. Sheknew full well that she ought not to have set forth upon a day's lonelyexpedition with Ninian, completely unchaperoned. She recalled thethings she had written concerning him to Gracie. Yet she had acceptedhim as sole escort during the whole of a day, a favour she would neverhave dreamed of according to Ben, who was a dozen times more reliable.She was greatly to blame, and had a lively consciousness that this wasso. The resulting disaster had been an accident; but such an accidentought not to have been possible had she been as circumspect as hergrandfather and aunts would expect of her.
And now, what came next?
Her mind held two distinct ideas, and they fronted her likedanger-boards. She heard Ninian's voice, saying, far more earnestlythan she had ever heard him speak, "I wish to God I had never seen you."... And she saw Balmayne's grave, kind face, his anxious expression, ashe said, "I wish it had not happened--not with that man!" ... and woveninto both these thoughts was a wild thrill, a stir of the heart, anameless sweetness which she could not banish.
She was hovering once more in the tangle of doubt and fear in whichSunia's attempt to administer the love potion had cast her. She feltafraid to face Madam or Ninian. Madam had not been to see her at all,and she could not help knowing that most people in Madam's place wouldfeel considerable annoyance at such an escapade on the part of a girl inher position.
With renewed force the conviction that the Pele was no place for herasserted itself. But now she fought against the conviction. She didnot want to go--did not want to leave ... what or whom?
She glanced at the ayah, knowing full well that those watchful eyes haddiscovered her secret.
"Poor Missee," said Sunia pityingly. "Ole Ayah saw it all thatnight--night before you go skating with the sahib--that you going to behurt, going to hurt a head. She not say, no good frighten Missee. Butole Ayah never see wrong." She sighed deeply, lifting a little saucepanfrom the fire, and bringing to the girl a cup of such soup as Mrs.Baxter alone knew how to make.
Her gentleness, her sympathy, were so seductive that Olwen was almostready to fling her arms round her neck and whisper that she loved thesahib--loved him and trusted him. Almost--not quite. The thought ofthe philtre stuck in her throat. What would have become of her in herextremity that night in the mile-castle had she swallowed the horriblebrew? She shuddered as she thought of it.
She knew that Ayah was waiting there, pleadingly, hopefully, for her tospeak again of the sahib--to give her some details of their adventure.This she was determined not to do. In her mind was stirring an uneasywonder as to what she might have said when she was feverish. She knewthat she had talked, for there had been glimpses of sanity during whichshe had heard her own tongue babbling, and wondered who that was whowould go on chattering so disturbingly.
She longed for somebody in whom she might confide. But there was nobody;and she did not intend to write anything like the full story of heraccident home to Bramforth.
She asked, presently, for pencil and paper, and wrote a line to AuntAda:
-"I'm sorry it is so long since I wrote, but I have had a slightaccident. It happened when I was skating. I cut my head against a bitof rock. As a result I have had to go to bed for a day or two, but amnow well on the mend. They are extremely kind, and I have a doctor inattendance. Ayah waits on me hand and foot. I am much vexed at beinglaid up, as you may imagine, and if I don't get well as fast as I hopeto do, I shall come home for a week or two. Can write more fully afterthe doctor's next visit, but mind you don't worry. I am quite allright."
-When the doctor arrived that day she was, for the first time, eager totalk.
He sat down at the bedside, and the ayah stood in the background withthe air of being blind, deaf and dumb, but, as Olwen knew, alive toevery word, every look, every smile that passed between them.
Balmayne was as conscious as she of this fact. He knew also that allthe Hindu's ideas of propriety would be outraged were he left alone withhis patient; but for all that he meant to have private speech with MissInnes.
"Sorry to trouble you, Ayah," he said, "but I must ask you to preparethat hot lotion again for me."
The woman rose, looking malevolently at him, listened to his directions,and slipped out through the arras to her own room, where she kept asmall cooking-stove.
He followed, and drew back the hangings, saying quietly, "Too muchdraught through these curtains. I will close the door." He did so, inspite of the gleam of hate in the old woman's eyes, returned to Olwenwith a smile, and began his unrolling of the bandages about her head.
"Well, Miss Innes," he said, purposely lowering his voice, "it isstrange how things settle themselves, as it were, accidentally. A whileago I was wondering how it would be possible to get you away from thisplace; and behold! You have decided to break your head and madedeparture inevitable."
She turned quite pale, as he noted with vexation. "Departureinevitable?" she repeated in a startled voice. "Why?"
"You won't be able to do any work
for some time yet. I shall have toorder you home, but I thought there was no need to tell the Guyses asmuch until we came within reasonable distance of the date at which I canallow you to travel."
"And that--when will that be?" she asked faintly.
"Well, let me see. To-day is Saturday. I ought to have these stitchesout on Monday or Tuesday. You could travel the day after, or two daysafter. Yes, you might leave next Wednesday or Thursday."
"But--but I shall be quite well by then," she stammered.
"No. You will have to go quietly for some weeks. No careering on skatesor in sleighs." He smiled. She returned no answer, she was mostevidently perturbed. "Fresh air," he went on, "is necessary, and theGuyses keep no car. Now that the snow is gone, the only vehicle youcould use is that dog-cart, which is most unsuitable."
She laughed a little bitterly. "Do you think my grandfather keeps acar? You don't seem to understand that I am out to earn my living."
"I am speaking," he said, "in the purest altruism," and he smiled alittle ruefully. "Personally I shall be considerably the poorer whenyou go. But--well, I have sisters of my own, and I know a girl of theright kind when I see her. I tell you, I would not trust a sister ofmine in the house with Guyse for a week."
"Yet I have been safely in the house with him for six weeks," shecountered swiftly.
He glanced at the bandage on her hair, shrugged his shoulders, and said,"Safely? Perhaps safety is a matter of opinion."
"No, it is a matter of fact," said Olwen, with a shaking voice. "As afact, I am convinced that Mr. Guyse would do nothing to harm me."
The doctor stood a moment silent, mechanically rolling a bandage betweenhis skilful fingers.
"Well," he said slowly, "I must ask you to pardon my interference. Thisis the last time I shall speak to you on this subject. It is a verydisagreeable duty, and will probably be useless; but I must clear myconscience. Were I in the place of your relatives, I should arguesomewhat thus: 'She was young and inexperienced, and as innocent as allgood girls. The only person who had a chance to warn her was thedoctor. It was up to him to use his medical authority and give her apretext to slip out of the net.'"
Olwen's colour was brilliant. "But," she expostulated, "if youmean--what you seem to mean--that Mr. Guyse has--bad designs--surely heknows that I am not without a family and friends----"
"He also knows that you are of age," put in the doctor quietly. "Ishould guess you to be a little over twenty-one----"
"I am twenty-three."
"Just so. Then what remedy has your family? None whatever. Anythingthey might do would merely make public what they would wish to hide.Abduction is a punishable offence. But this is another matter."
She was outraged. "Oh, Dr. Balmayne, won't you give me credit for someself-restraint, some modesty? Don't you realise that what you arehinting could never be?"
It was his turn to colour, and he did so. "I am aware that I am riskingyour friendship, even your toleration, by speaking," he repliedsteadily. "I do know, of course, that this could never be, except inthe one case----"
"In the one case?"
"Of his having succeeded in making you care for him."
In the pulsating silence which followed this remark they heard the doorunlatch, and Sunia brought in the bowl of hot lotion.
The doctor took it calmly from her hands, completed his treatment, andpresently took his leave. As he wished Olwen good-bye, he added rapidlyin French: "_Soyez calme. Je ne vous redirai jamais les choses que j'aidit aujourd'hui_."
Nothing at all passed between her and the ayah after the doctor left.All the rest of the day she was meditating upon what he had said. Shecould not but see that he honestly thought her in danger; and as shepictured to herself the next meeting between herself and theincorrigible Nin, she felt herself falter.
She was no fool. She knew that a girl does not think of a man day andnight--even to be in a rage with him--unless he has made a deepimpression.
She wondered a good deal that he sent her no written message. Each daySunia brought an inquiry from Madam and the sahib as to the health andprogress of the invalid. This was answered verbally. No note came fromthe young man. Was he her lover, or not? If he were not, she knew shecould not stay. If he were, the doctor thought she ought not to stay.
On the following day, which was Sunday, she sent down a written messageon an open morsel of paper: "Please send me up some light fiction."
Half a dozen books came up, but with no message. She would not ask Suniahow Mr. Guyse was, or what he was doing; but as the woman moved aboutthe room, putting it to rights, she remarked: "First day my sahib goneout. He gone spend a day with Kendall-folk. They pleased, I thinking."
"Would not you be pleased, too, to have your sahib married?" asked Olwenboldly, hoping her colour did not change.
"I pray my gods all days for my sahib to marry," was the simple reply,"and that I hold his son in my arms before I die."
Olwen rolled over and pretended to hunt for a handkerchief under herpillow. "Well, I hope you will have your wish," said she tranquilly.
The Hindu woman paused a moment to contemplate the enigma of theEuropean woman's coldness. Olwen nearly laughed, the woman's thoughtswas so plainly written in her face. "You must be an inhumanshe-creature," was the unspoken word. "I gave you the most potentphiltre known to Hindu lore, and still you are unawakened. Still you cantalk of his marriage with another woman quietly. I have been mistakenin you."
The Lonely Stronghold Page 24