The Healing Hand

by Barbara Cartland

  It was clearly a statement and not a rebuke.

  He climbed into the carriage and persuaded Sister Agnes to lie full-length on the seat.

  “I don’t think she is injured,” he said in a low voice to Tania.

  “I am sure she is not. We both fell forward at the same time and, although a shock, it has not hurt me at all.”

  She looked anxiously at Sister Agnes whose eyes and lips were tightly shut.

  “I will see if I can find something for her to drink,” offered the Englishman.

  “That’s a good idea. I am sure that what she would really like is a cup of tea.”

  The Englishman laughed.

  “That is very English, but as we are now in France, I think it will have to be something more stimulating.”

  “You must not give her alcohol. She is a nun and they are not allowed to drink.”

  “Then I am afraid it will have to be water. There is a restaurant car at the front of the train.”

  Tania had been told this before she left Paris, but it meant they would have to get out and leave their luggage unattended in their compartment.

  The Englishman had already clambered out of the carriage and he now held up his hand, obviously intending Tania to accompany him.

  She thought it would be rude if she did not do so. The nun, although she seemed almost unconscious, would guard their luggage.

  She therefore jumped down.

  As the Englishman took hold of her hand, he pulled her through the crowd and they walked up to the front of the train.

  Next to the engine, as the Englishman had told her, was the restaurant car.

  Tania could see that mercifully the crash had been much less severe than it might have been.

  But when they looked in through the windows and the door they saw that the impact had smashed the tables in the restaurant car and everything was broken.

  There were pieces of china and broken milk bottles everywhere and it looked as though a huge pot of coffee had fallen near the entrance.

  “We cannot go in there,” exclaimed Tania.

  “I could try,” the Englishman suggested doubtfully. “But I think it would annoy the engineers, who have just arrived to move the trains off the lines.”

  “Is there no hope of our being able to travel on our train?” Tania asked him.

  “I think it most unlikely and it may take a long time to clear the lines, in which case I should imagine they will send another train for those who are going to Boulogne.”

  “Do you think we will have to stay the night here?”

  “It looks rather like it, but I am certainly hoping we will not. My carriage is full, so there will be no question of being able to lie down to sleep.”

  “It may not be as bad as we expect. Try to find out from someone how they are coping with the collision.”

  The Englishman looked round.

  She felt he had a strong personality like her father, who always got what he wanted and people obeyed him.

  A moment later she realised what the Englishman was looking out for.

  A small engine, drawing one small car, came down the line and stopped behind the goods train.

  Out of it stepped a railway official wearing a much more important looking uniform than those on the train.

  He was she recognised, someone in authority.

  The Englishman walked up to him.

  “I am so delighted to see you, monsieur,” he said in very good French. “I hope you will be able to tell us how soon it will be before we can continue our journey.”

  “You must give me a chance to look at what has happened, monsieur,” he replied. “But I think we can take you safely to Boulogne in good time to catch the ferry that is taking you to England.”

  The Englishman smiled.

  “If that happens, I commend you for your services,” he said. “It is important for me to be in London as soon as possible.”

  “If you will please give me your name, monsieur,” the Frenchman enquired.

  “I am Captain the Honourable Rupert More, son of the Earl of Grantmore. You must understand that I am on my way to join my Regiment. I think many Frenchmen are doing the same.”

  “I suspect, monsieur, that you are referring to the war that is likely to break out against Russia.”

  “I see you are well informed,” he answered. “And although I hope it is untrue, we have been told that France and England are now both committed to defending Turkey against Russian aggression.”

  Tania could see that the Frenchman was delighted that an Englishman should know so much.

  “You are quite right, monsieur, and it is something we must prevent, although none of us is anxious for war at this moment.”

  “I agree with you,” replied Captain More. ‘‘But the Russians are getting too big for their boots and it is time we did something about it!”

  The Frenchman laughed.

  “Well, of course, under the circumstances you must certainly join your Regiment as quickly as possible. Is this lady with you?”

  Captain More turned at once to look at Tania.

  He understood from the pleading expression in her eyes that she did not want to stay behind with the train.

  “I’ll tell you what I will do for you, monsieur,” the Frenchman suggested. “You can travel down to the Station ahead in the car I have just arrived in. I believe there is a train there that will carry a few of these passengers on to Boulogne. The rest will have to wait until we have cleared the line.”

  “That is exceedingly kind of you, monsieur, and I am most grateful.”

  “Then go collect your luggage and don’t mention to anyone what you are doing, otherwise I will be bombarded by others and I usually travel in that small car alone.”

  “I understand and thank you again, monsieur.” He turned round to take Tania by the hand.

  “Let’s go and collect your luggage,” he suggested, “and I hope there is not too much of it.”

  “I am wondering,” Tania sighed, as they moved out of earshot of the French official, ‘‘what we should do about Sister Agnes.”

  “She will join us later,” the Captain replied firmly. “The French will surely not want to accommodate and feed a great number of people unnecessarily. I am quite certain that your nun will catch up with us later on, perhaps after midnight.”

  Tania was thinking it would be wrong for her to take such an advantage and leave Sister Agnes unattended.

  When she returned to the carriage, she found to her surprise that Sister Agnes was not alone.

  Another nun from a different Order was sitting by Sister Agnes and was now smoothing her forehead gently with a handkerchief and talking to her softly.

  She was kneeling down by the side of Sister Agnes, but she rose when Tania entered the compartment.

  “How kind of you to help Sister Agnes,” she began. “She has had a great shock and it has upset her badly.”

  “I can see that,” the nun, who was French, replied, “and I will, of course, tend to her. I don’t think she is badly hurt.”

  “I don’t think she is hurt at all, but she did not feel very well when we joined the train.”

  “I will look after her,” the new nun promised.

  “That is very kind of you and I am very grateful. I went to fetch something for her to drink, but unfortunately the restaurant car has been badly smashed up and nothing seems to be left intact.”

  “I have some milk in my own compartment.”

  “And we have some sandwiches.”

  “That is splendid! I expect you have come to move your luggage so that you can transfer it to the train which is coming to rescue us.”

  “That will take a little time, so please do tell Sister Agnes not to worry about me when she comes round. We will meet up with each other on the ferry.”

  “Yes, of course I will tell her,” the new nun replied.

  While Tania had been talking to her, Captain More had been removing the luggage from the ov
erhead rack and was placing it outside.

  “That is not all mine,” Tania told him.

  “All the luggage has to be taken out of the train,” he said, “and it will be placed on the other one which is yet to arrive. All bags stowed in the Guard’s van will come automatically to the ferry. And I would suggest, as we don’t want to lose the special privilege we have been offered, that we hurry up and take our place in the official’s car.”

  “I am sure that you are right. I would hate to miss reaching the ferry as quickly as possible.”

  “I agree with you it would be very stupid – ”

  With that the Captain picked up Tania’s suitcase and her dressing case, which were not particularly heavy.

  Without saying anything more they walked up past the other train to where the car was waiting.

  Captain More put Tania’s luggage inside, then went back to fetch his own.

  He was back very quickly with a suitcase and what appeared to be a gun.

  Then, as he placed the cases safely in the car, he pointed out,

  “In case you are worried, my shotgun is not loaded. I brought it with me because I expected to go shooting with a friend on his estate near Paris.”

  “Were you not able to join the shoot?”

  Captain More shook his head.

  “I was, as it so happened, otherwise engaged.”

  He helped her onto a seat inside the car.

  Then without saying anything more, he went back the way he had come.

  She wondered if he had gone to tell his friends, if he was travelling with any, what was happening or gone to retrieve more luggage.

  She realised, however, there was room for three or four other people in the car and she only hoped that his seat would not be taken before he reappeared.

  Tania need not have been perturbed as he returned in a short while alone.

  A moment later the driver stepped into his seat and started the car’s engine.

  Captain More sat beside Tania and to her delight it moved off without anyone else coming with them.

  “I thought that we might have attracted some other passengers,” she whispered to him, so that the driver could not hear, even though he was unlikely to understand as she was speaking English.

  “I was afraid of the same thing,” replied Captain More. “But the French official, who is obviously of some importance on the Railways, must have considered that you and I were more distinguished than those other passengers.

  “Therefore we’ve been given the Royal treatment of travelling to the ferry and making ourselves comfortable there before the hoi polloi arrive!”

  The way he said it was so funny that Tania laughed.

  “I think we are behaving rather badly, but this is so much more comfortable than sitting about until it’s dark.”

  “And,” added Captain More, “perhaps with nothing to eat and little to drink!”

  Tania laughed again.

  “You have been so clever and thank you very much once more for including me.”

  “How could I possibly leave you behind when you are so beautiful? You might have had a most unpleasant time with some offensive stranger.”

  “I was supposed to be chaperoned by my nun, but I have a feeling she will remain prostrate and on the verge of fainting until we reach England.”

  “I thought the same and that is why I have brought you away. Now, beautiful lady, tell me who you are. You already know who I am.”

  “It sounded very grand and obviously impressed the French official which was what really mattered.”

  “And who are you?” he persisted.

  “I am Tania Amesly, and my dear father was Lord Amesly. So I am entitled to be called an Honourable too!”

  He laughed and it was a very infectious sound.

  “For once in our lives,” he sighed, “our titles have done the trick and made us important to the French. I have always found, as they have unending collections of Ducs, Marquises, Vicomtes and Comtes that I never stand very high in their estimation.”

  “Perhaps they just don’t understand that an Earl in England is a most illustrious person, but my father always said that the country that really bows low to a long family tree is Germany.”

  He wrinkled his nose.

  “German titles are far too long, too laborious and in my opinion too ugly. You, of course, should be a Princess and everyone would curtsy to you as you are so lovely.”

  Tania blushed and then she murmured,

  “You must not talk to me like that because I find it embarrassing.”

  “You can hardly expect me to believe that you have not listened to hundreds of compliments already.”

  “Whether you can believe it or not, I have received practically none because I have only just left school.”

  The Captain stared at her.

  “You have only just left school – how old are you?”

  “Well, actually I am over eighteen and should have left long ago, but my stepmother, who does not like me, was determined I should stay as long as possible. Finally the Mother Superior turned me out, so I am going home.”

  “It’s clearly a really sad story. Now do start from the beginning and tell me all about yourself and why your stepmother does not love you as everyone should.”

  Tania gave a little laugh.

  “I would rather hear about you first, Captain. Is it really true you are going home to join your Regiment?”

  “It is true, and I am only too glad that I have been able to enjoy this special time in France before being sent off to some outlandish place to fight against the Russians.”

  As he spoke, he thought he had certainly enjoyed himself in France – if it was the last time it would happen, he was extremely glad he had not missed it.

  He had gone to France at the invitation of a young Vicomte he had met at Oxford where he had completed his education.

  He had not only rowed in the Oxford boat, but had been Captain of the cricket team during his last term.

  He had been friend’s with the Vicomte, who was in the same College, and he had been invited to stay in Paris with him after Christmas.

  Captain More had received special leave from his Commanding Officer and had set off for Paris wondering if he would really enjoy it, or if he would have been wiser to stay with friends in England.

  As he was an outstanding horseman, he had been invited to hunt with several top packs of foxhounds.

  He knew that he could either take his own mounts from his father’s stable or be offered those belonging to his hosts.

  However, he had gone to Paris and had found it was not only more amusing than he might have expected, but exotic, fantastic and intriguing –

  He had never imagined it possible for courtesans and cocottes to have so much power or give such amusing parties that were beyond his wildest dreams.

  The Vicomte wanted to show him that Paris was far better at amusing a single man than any other City in the world and had taken him from Montmartre to the Champs Elysees, to the Moulin Rouge and the Folies Bergeres.

  It was women, women all the time!

  Each one more alluring than the last and naturally no less expensive!

  Rupert More did not take it particularly seriously, but he enjoyed every moment.

  It was only when he realised he must return home to his Regiment that he told himself ‘enough is enough’.

  Every minute that he had spent in Paris had been a delight, something he would always remember.

  There were, however, many other issues of more significance in his life and it was time he attended to them.

  He had no wish to go off to war, but even so it was what he had been trained for.

  He only hoped that his men, of whom he was very fond, would distinguish themselves on the battlefield.

  He was, however, somewhat concerned.

  Was the Army, which was being drawn into what would clearly be a very long and bloody campaign, really prepared for what lay ahead?
>
  Unlike a great number of his contemporaries, Rupert had always kept up-to-date with politics and was interested in what the diplomats were discussing in every country in Europe.

  He was aware, as few young gentlemen in England had bothered to notice, that Great Britain now owned a vast Empire stretching around the world.

  One of the most valuable parts of that Empire was India and it was so obvious to Rupert, although no one else seemed to realise it, that, if any foreign country threatened the lines of communications from Great Britain to the Far East, that country would have to be repulsed.

  His interest in his own country had taught him that Russia possessed a large Empire as well, which embraced eight million square miles, but even that was not enough to prevent the Russians from trying to extend their influence everywhere.

  He had also learnt in Paris, if he had not known it before, that the Emperor of France was also ambitious and like many other countries France was mesmerised by the strategic importance of the Middle East.

  What was worrying all these three countries at the moment was Turkey.

  Having at one time boasted it was ‘the Gateway to the East’ Turkey had become feeble and was in a perpetual state of general degeneration.

  Rupert could see that Turkey’s weakness was encouraging the ambitions of other countries, and it seemed obvious that the diplomats should come together and reach agreement between them to prevent war.

  But the Czar of Russia, Nicholas I, had spoken of Turkey in a tone of delight,

  “We have on our hands a very sick man!”

  In point of fact, having said that, he had added a recommendation as to how ‘the sick man’s property could be disposed of.

  When Rupert heard the Czar’s comment, it struck him that only a madman would ignore the obvious threats that lay ahead.

  If Turkey was to break up, a part of Asia of vitally strategic importance would be open to the other ambitious States and he thought it impossible that England would not recognise this.

  The British Cabinet in London should be prepared to thwart the plans that the Czar of Russia was obviously making to seize Turkey.

  To Rupert it seemed so imperative that the current situation was calling for a show of strength.

  He had been spending a great deal of the night with the most alluring cocottes in the whole of Paris and yet he still found time and enough energy in the morning to read all the newspapers.