She did not say what she was afraid of, but went swiftly into the inn. As she crossed the threshold, Amanda reached the foot of the steep stairs, and fairly pounced on her, dryly sobbing from mingled fright and relief. “Oh, thank God you are come at last! He is very, very ill, and I cannot make him he still, or even hear me! Oh, La—Aunt Hester, come!”
“Ah, I thought Miss would be sorry she turned off Mrs. Bardfield so hasty!” remarked Mrs. Chicklade, in the background, and speaking with a morbid satisfaction which made Amanda round on her like a tigress.
“Go away, you odious, impertinent creature! You said you washed your hands of it, and so you may, for I don’t want help from such a heathen as you are!”
Mrs. Chicklade’s colour rose alarmingly. “Oh, so I’m a heathen, am I? Me as has been a churchgoer all my life, and kept my house respectable—till this day!”
“Good-evening.”
The gentle, aloof voice acted on the incensed landlady like a charm. Cut short in mid-career, she stared at Lady Hester, her rich colour slowly fading.
“I am afraid,” said Hester, with cool courtesy, “that you are being put to a great deal of trouble. It is perhaps a pity I did not, after all, bring my maid with me. My nephew thought, however, that there would be no room for her in so small a house.”
Mrs. Chicklade felt herself impelled to abandon her martial attitude, and to drop an unwilling curtsy. “I’m sure, ma’am, I’m not one to grudge a bit of trouble. All I say is—”
“Thank you,” Hester said, turning away from her. “Take me up to your uncle’s room, Amanda!”
Amanda was only too glad to do so. Chicklade, an expression of considerable concern on his face, was bending over the bed on which Sir Gareth tossed and muttered. He looked round as the ladies entered the room, and said: “I don’t like the looks of him—not at all, I don’t! Mortal bad, he is, ma’am, but I don’t doubt hell be better now he has his good lady to tend him.”
Hester, casting off her bonnet and pelisse, hardly heard this speech, her attention being fixed on Sir Gareth. She went to the bed, and laid her hand fleetingly on his brow. It was burningly hot, and the eyes that glanced unrecognizingly at her were blurred with fever. She said: “Has the doctor seen him since this morning?”
“No!” answered Amanda, in a choked voice. “I have been waiting and waiting for him, for he promised he would come again!”
“Then I think someone should ride over to desire him to come as soon as he may. Meanwhile, if Hildebrand will bring up the smaller of my two valises, and you, landlord, will desire your wife to set a kettle on to boil, I hope we may make him more comfortable.”
“Is he going to die?” whispered Amanda, her eyes dark with dread.
“No!” Hester replied calmly. “He is not going to die, but he has a great deal of fever, and I fancy his wound is much inflamed. The arm is swollen, and these tight bandages are making it worse. Pray go down, my dear, and send Hildebrand up to me!”
Amanda sped away on this errand, and returned very speedily, followed by Hildebrand, bearing a valise. He was looking scared, and cast one shrinking glance at Sir Gareth, and then quickly averted his eyes. Lady Hester had stripped the blankets off the bed, so that Sir Gareth was now covered only by the sheet. Without seeming to notice Hildebrand’s sickly pallor, she directed him, in her quiet way, to open the valise. “You will find a roll of flannel in it, and some scissors. I am going to apply fomentations to the wound. Will you help me, if you please?”
“I will!” Amanda said. “Hildebrand faints if he sees blood.”
“He won’t see any blood, and I am quite sure he will not faint.”
“No, I—I swear I won’t!” Hildebrand said, through his clenched teeth.
“Of course not. You could not, when we depend so entirely upon you, could you? For, you know, I am not strong enough to lift Sir Gareth. It is a great comfort to know that you are here to share the nursing with me. Amanda, while I am busy with the fomentation, do you go down and try whether there is any wine to be obtained. A little hot wine will often relieve a fever.”
Amanda seemed for a moment as though she would have rebelled against what she suspected to be an attempt to exclude her from the sickroom, but after throwing a rather jealous glance at Hildebrand, she went away.
By the time she came back, carefully carrying, wrapped in a cloth, a glass of hot claret, Lady Hester had tied the last bandage, and was exchanging the very lumpy pillow on the bed for her own one of down. Hildebrand, who was supporting Sir Gareth in his arms, had not only recovered his colour, but looked to be in much better spirits. He had been able to look upon his handiwork without fainting; and Lady Hester, so far from reviling or despising him, had said that she did not know how she would go on without him.
Amanda reported that Chicklade had sent off the boy who helped him in the tap, and the small stable, to hasten the doctor, so Lady Hester said that since Sir Gareth seemed a little easier they would not try to get any of the mulled claret down his throat just at present. Hildebrand lowered him on to the pillow again, and although he was still very restless it was plain that the fomentation was already bringing him a certain measure of relief. Lady Hester sat down at the head of the bed, and began to bathe his face with lavender-water, softly directing her youthful helpers to go downstairs to await the doctor’s arrival. They tiptoed away. Left alone with Sir Gareth, Lady Hester smoothed back the tumbled curls from his brow with a loving hand. He stared up at her, and said in a hurried, fretting tone: “I must find her. I must find her.”
“Yes, Gareth, you shall,” she answered soothingly.’”Only be still, my dearest!”
For a moment she thought that there was a gleam of recognition in his eyes; then he turned his head away, and brushing the sheet, found her wrist, and grasped it strongly; he said, quite audibly: “You won’t escape me again!”
When, presently, the doctor was brought into the room by Amanda, he thought that the lady who rose to meet him had been crying a little. He was not surprised; and he said, with rough kindness: “Well, now, what is all this I am hearing about my patient? Some fever was to be expected, you know, but you may depend upon it that a man with a good constitution will recover from worse hurts than a mere hole in his shoulder. You need not tell me that he has that,ma’am I I have seldom attended a more splendid specimen than your husband, and I don’t doubt that between us we shall have him going on prosperously in a very short time.”
“But he is not my husband!” said Hester involuntarily.
“Not your husband?” he said, looking at her very hard. “I beg your pardon, but I understood from Chicklade that Mr. Ross had fetched Sir Gareth’s wife to him!”
“No,” said Hester helplessly. “Oh, no!”
“Then who may you be, ma’am?” he demanded bluntly.
“She is his sister, of course!” said Amanda, with great promptness. “I suppose that when my cousin said he would fetch our aunt, Chicklade thought she must be Uncle Gareth’s wife,but she isn’t.”
“Oh!” said the doctor. “So that’s how it is!”
“Yes, that’s how it is,” agreed Hester, accepting the situation.
Chapter 15
Sir Gareth, opening his eyes on unfamiliar surroundings, wondered where he was. He appeared to be lying in an attic, which seemed very odd, though not of any great importance. He considered the matter idly, and next discovered that something was wrong with his left shoulder. He tried to bring his other hand to feel it, but found that the effort was too much for his strength. Also, which was strange, he was very tired. Decidedly something must be wrong, he thought, unperturbed, but puzzled. He turned his head on the pillow, and his eyes fell upon a slim youth, who was watching him intently from a chair by the window. The wreaths of sleep which were clinging to his brain began to drift away. He frowned. A boy in a coffeeroom, talking some nonsense about a blackened heart, and Amanda—Amanda? “Good God!” said Sir Gareth faintly, as memory came rushing back.
Hil
debrand, uncertain whether he was himself, or still lightheaded, said tentatively: “Are you better, sir?”
“Hildebrand Ross,” stated Sir Gareth. “Where the devil am I?”
“Well, I don’t suppose you would know the place, sir, but pray do not be uneasy! You are quite safe.”
“Did you put a bullet into me?” enquired Sir Gareth, dreamily interested.
“Yes, I did, sir, but indeed I never meant to! Pray do not let yourself be angry with me! I mean, not yet,while you are so weak!”
“I remember telling you not to wave that pistol about,” remarked Sir Gareth, in a reminiscent voice. “What happened after that?”
“Well, I—I shot you, sir, but don’t talk about it now! The doctor says you must be perfectly quiet.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Four days, sir—and I think I had better fetch Aunt Hester!” said Hildebrand nervously.
Sir Gareth, left to make what he could of this, found it beyond his comprehension, and closed his eyes again.
When he awoke for the second time, he remembered that he had been talking to Hildebrand, and looked towards the window. But Hildebrand was no longer there. Lady Hester was seated in the Windsor chair, reading a book. Sir Gareth had thought that he was better, but he now suspected that he was delirious. There was a sandy kitten curled up in her lap, too, and he knew that kitten. Hester had nothing to do with Joseph, so probably he was still floating in a muddled dream. “Besides,” he said aloud, “she doesn’t wear a cap. How absurd!”
She looked up quickly, and rose, setting Joseph down. “Hildebrand came running to tell me that you had waked up, quite yourself again, but when I reached you, you were so soundly asleep that I almost doubted him,” she said, taking his hand, and feeling his pulse. “Oh, that is so much better! Do you feel more the thing?”
His fingers closed weakly round her hand. “But this is fantastic!” he said. “Are you sure I am not dreaming?”
“Quite sure,” she replied, smiling mistily down at him. “I daresay you may be wondering how I come to be here, but it is not at all important, and there is no need for you to tease yourself about it just now.”
He studied the offending cap frowningly. “Why do you wear that thing?”
“Well, I think I have reached the age when perhaps I should.”
“Nonsense! I wish you will take it off.”
“Should you mind very much if I don’t?” she said apologetically. “There is something so very respectable about a cap, you know.”
That made him smile. “Must you look respectable?”
“Yes, indeed I must. Now, my dear friend, I am going to call Chicklade that he may bring up the broth Mrs. Chicklade has been keeping hot for you, the instant you should wake up.”
“Who is Chicklade?”
“How stupid of me! He is the landlord, an excellent man, quite unlike his wife, who is really the most tiresome creature. I shall let him come into the room, because he has been so very obliging, and, besides that, I want him to raise you while I slip another pillow behind you. I shall warn him he must not encourage you to talk, but, in case you should say something to undo us all, will you remember that Hildebrand is your nephew?”
“Either I am dreaming, or you must have run mad suddenly,” said Sir Gareth. “Hildebrand was the name of the young idiot who shot me. That I do remember!”
“Yes, so careless of him! I daresay you will feel that you ought to give him a scold, and perhaps I should have done so, when he told me about it. But he was in such distress, and so truly repentant, that I could see it was not at all necessary. I don’t mean to dictate to you, but if you should be meaning to give him up to justice, which he quite expects, poor boy, I wish you won’t! He has been helping me to nurse you, and running all the errands with such readiness that it would be quite dreadfully ungrateful to send him to prison. Besides, it would appear very odd if you were to do so, when everyone thinks he is your nephew.
“Is that why he became my nephew?” he asked, looking amused.
“Yes, and I need scarcely tell you that it was Amanda’s notion. She said that Hildebrand held you up for a jest, and had never meant to shoot you, which, indeed, was perfectly true. I own, Amanda is very naughty, but one cannot help admiring her! She is never at a loss!”
“Where is Amanda?” he interrupted.
“She has walked over to Great Staughton with Hildebrand, to purchase some things for me there.”
“Do you mean to tell me she hasn’t run away?” he said incredulously.
“Oh, no!”
“How in the world did you contrive to keep her here?”
“Oh, I didn’t! I am sure I could not. She would not think of running away now. Besides, she is very well-satisfied to be here, for it is the tiniest village, where I shouldn’t think her grandfather would ever find her. You shall see her when you are a little stronger. Oh, I forgot to mention that she is your niece! She and Hildebrand are cousins.”
“I seem to have been acquiring an alarming number of new relatives,” he remarked.
“Yes,” she agreed. She hesitated, colouring faintly. “Which puts me in mind that I should warn you that I shall be obliged to call you Gareth while we remain in this inn. I am afraid you may not quite like it, but—”
“On the contrary!” he said, smiling. “Are you also related to me?”
“Well, yes!” she confessed. “We—we thought it best that I should be your sister. You see, I didn’t feel I could be your wife!”
“That also I remember,” he said.
Her colour deepened; she looked away, and said in a little confusion: “The thing was that when Amanda sent Hildebrand to fetch me, she told the Chicklades that I was her aunt, which, I must say, was most sensible of her. But they supposed from that that I must be your wife, and they told the doctor so. Which nearly led to our undoing, because you know how foolish I am! I blurted out that I was no such thing, and the doctor stared at me in such a way! However, Amanda instantly said that I was not your wife, but your sister, which perfectly satisfied him. I hope you are not vexed! Now I must go and call to Chicklade.”
She went away, and when she returned, a few minutes later, she was accompanied by Chicklade, who bore a small tray into the room, which he set down on the table by the bed. He then said that he was glad to see Sir Gareth looking more stout, speaking in a painstakingly lowered voice. Sir Gareth roused himself to play the part expected of him. He said: “Thank you, I’m as weak as a cat, but you will see how quickly I shall be on my feet again. I am afraid I have been a shocking charge upon you. My sister has been telling me how you have helped to nurse me.” He held out his hand. “Thank you: I am very much obliged to you! You must be heartily sick of such a troublesome guest, but really I am not to be blamed! My young fool of a nephew is the culprit.”
“Ay, sir, he is that!” Chicklade said, cautiously taking the hand in his. “Properly speaking, he ought to be given a rare dressing, but I don’t doubt it was Miss who set him on, and I’m bound to say he’s had the fright of his life. Nor I don’t grudge the trouble. If there’s aught I can do, your honour has only to mention it.”
“Then I beg you will shave me!” said Sir Gareth: passing his hand ruefully over his chin.
“Tomorrow, perhaps,” said Hester, waiting to place another pillow behind his head. “Will you lift him now, if you please? Don’t try to help yourself, Gareth; Chicklade is very strong, you will find.”
“What was your fighting weight?” asked Sir Gareth, as the landlord lowered him tenderly on to the pillows.
A slow smile spread over the broad face. “Ah, I was never reduced beyond thirteen stone eight, sir, and, of course, nowadays—well! If I might make so bold, I’d say your honour displays to advantage.”
“You will be able to enjoy many delightful talks about prize-fighting with Sir Gareth when he is a little stronger,” said Lady Hester gently.
The landlord, thus recalled to a sense of Sir Gareth’s w
eakness, cast an apologetic glance at her, and beat a retreat. She sat down by the bed, and offered her patient a spoonful of broth. “I hope it is good,” she said, smiling at him. “As soon as your fever began to abate, Chicklade killed one of his cockerels, so that we might have a sustaining broth ready for you. Hildebrand was disgusted, because Amanda saw its neck wrung, but I daresay she was quite right to do so. She seems to think that if she goes to the Peninsula she might be obliged to kill chickens, though I myself should rather suppose that the batman would do it for her. Poor Hildebrand is very squeamish, so naturally he was much shocked at Amanda’s wishing to learn how to wring a chicken’s neck. Do you think you could eat a morsel of toast, if I dipped it in the broth?”
“Thank you, I had liefer eat it undipped. I detest sops! Hester, I wish you will explain to me how you came to be here! Amanda had no business to ask it of you, and how you can have prevailed upon your family to consent to such a thing I can’t conceive.”
“Oh, I didn’t! They think I have gone to be with my sister Susan, because her children have the measles. Don’t look so dismayed! I never enjoyed anything half as much, I assure you. You cannot think what a relief it is to have shaken off every one of my relations! I don’t feel like myself at all, and that is a relief, too.”
“But, my dear, it is the craziest thing to have done!” he expostulated, half-laughing.
“Yes, isn’t it?” she agreed cordially. “That is what makes it so delightful, for I have never done anything crazy before. Just a little more of this broth! How pleased Amanda and Hildebrand will be when they learn that you have drunk it all up! I wonder whether they have been able to purchase any playing-cards in Great Staughton?”
Her inconsequence made him smile. “Do you wish for some?”
“Oh, no! Only that it is very dull for those children, and I thought if only they had some cards they could play games together in the evening, instead of quarrelling. Hildebrand was much inclined to think that it would be very wrong to buy cards, but I assured him you would have not the least objection.”
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