Chapter Forty Seven.
“I say, he didn’t shoot you, did he?”
“Yes—through the arm,” said Leigh faintly. “Better directly. Can you keep him down, Wilton?”
“Oh yes, I’ll keep the beggar down,” said Claud, cocking the pistol. “Do you hear, you sir? You move a hand and as sure as I’ve got you here, I’ll fire. Send for a doctor someone.”
“No, no,” cried Leigh, a little more firmly; “not yet;” and he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it with one hand. “Tie this tightly round my arm.”
“You take the pistol then—that’s it—and let the brute have it if he stirs. I won’t get off him. Kneel down.”
Leigh obeyed after taking the pistol, and Claud bound the handkerchief tightly round his arm.
“Hurt you?”
“Yes; but the sickness is going off. Tighter: it will stop the bleeding.”
“All right; but I say, we had better have in a doctor,” said Claud excitedly.
“Not yet. We don’t want an expose,” said Leigh anxiously.
“Shall I go for one, sir?” said the housekeeper.
“No. How is she now?” said Leigh anxiously.
“Just the same, sir,” said the woman, stifling her sobs.
“I’ll come in a moment or two. Go back; there is nothing to fear now.”
A burst of hysterical sobbing came from the front door, where Becky was crouching down, with her face buried in her hands.
“Take her with you,” said Leigh hastily; and he stood before Garstang while Becky walked into the library, shivering with dread.
“Here, you hold up, what’s your name,” cried Claud. “You behaved like a trump. It’s all right; he can’t hurt you now.”
“No,” said Leigh, in a harsh whisper, as the two women passed in and the door swung to; “nor anyone else. Look.”
“Eh?” said Claud wonderingly. “What at?”
“Don’t you see?” said Leigh, bending down and turning Garstang’s head a little on one side.
“Ugh!” ejaculated Claud. “Blood! I didn’t mean that. Why, he must have hit his head on that bit of marble.”
“Yes,” answered Leigh, after a brief examination, “the skull is fractured. We must get him away from here.”
“Not dangerous, is it, doctor?” said Claud, aghast.
Leigh made no answer, but rose to his feet and sat down on one of the hall chairs.
“What is it—faint?” said Claud.
“Yes—get me—something—he cannot move.”
“She seems to be more like sleeping now, sir,” said the housekeeper, appearing at the door. “Oh, no, no; don’t let him get up!”
“It’s all right, old lady. Here, got any brandy? The doctor’s hurt, and faint.”
“Yes, sir; yes, sir,” said the woman, glancing in a horrified way, at the two injured men, as she passed into the dining-room, from which she returned directly with a decanter and glass.
“It’s port wine, sir,” she said in a trembling voice; and she poured out a glass.
Leigh drained it, and rose to his feet.
“I will come back directly,” he said.
“That’s right. I say, I don’t quite like his looks.”
Leigh bent over the prostrate man, but said nothing, and passed into the library, where he spent five minutes in attendance upon Kate; and at the end of that time he rose with a sigh of relief.
“Will she come to, sir?” whispered the housekeeper, with her voice trembling.
“Yes, I think the worst is over. The medicine I gave her is counteracting the effects of the drug.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” burst out Becky; and she flumped down on the carpet and caught one of Kate’s hands, to lay it against her cheek and hold it there, as she rocked herself to and fro.
“Becky! Becky! you mustn’t,” whispered her mother.
“Let her alone; she will do no harm,” said Leigh, quietly.
“Are—are you going to send for the police, sir?” faltered the woman.
“No, certainly not yet,” replied Leigh; and he went back into the hall.
“I say,” said Claud, in a voice full of awe, “I’m jolly glad you’ve come. He ain’t dying, is he?”
For answer Leigh went down on one knee, and made a fresh examination.
“No,” he said at last; “but he is very bad. I cannot help carry him, but he must be got into one of the rooms.”
“Fetch that old girl out, and we’ll carry him,” said Claud; and after a moment or two’s thought Leigh went to the library, stood for a while examining his patient there, and then signed to Becky and her mother to follow him.
Under his directions a blanket was brought, passed under the injured man, and then each took a corner, and he was borne into the dining-room and laid upon a couch.
“I don’t like to call in police, or a strange surgeon,” Leigh whispered to Claud. “We do not want this affair to become public.”
“By George, no!” said Claud, hastily.
“Then you must help me. I can do what is necessary; and these women can nurse him.”
“But I can’t help you,” protested the young man. “If it was a horse I could do something. Don’t understand men.”
“I do, to some extent,” said Leigh, smiling faintly. Then, to the woman, “You can go back now. Call me at once if there is any change.”
The two trembling women went out, and after another feeble protest Claud manfully took off his coat, and acting under Leigh’s instructions, properly bandaged the painful wound made by Garstang’s bullet, which had struck high up in Leigh’s arm, and passed right through, a very short distance beneath the skin.
“A mere nothing,” said Leigh, coolly, as the wound was plugged and bandaged, the table napkins coming in handy. “Why, Wilton, you’d make a capital dresser.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated the young man, with a shudder. “I should like to be down on one. Sick as a cat.”
“Take a glass of wine, man,” said Leigh, smiling.
“I just will,” said Claud, gulping one down. “Thank you, since you are so pressing, I think I will take another. Hah! that puts Dutch courage in a fellow,” he sighed, after a second goodly sip. “It’s good port, Garstang. Here’s bad health to you—you beast.”
He drank the rest of his wine.
“I say, doctor, you don’t expect me to help timber his head, do you?”
Leigh nodded, as he drew his shirt-sleeve down over his bandages.
“But the brute would have shot me, too.”
“Yes, but he’s hors de combat, my lad, and you don’t want to jump on a fallen enemy.”
“Don’t know so much about that, doctor,” said the young man, dryly, “but you ought.”
“Perhaps so,” replied Leigh, “but I am what you would call crotchety, and I must treat him as I would a man who never did me harm. Come, your wine has strung you up. Let’s get to work.”
“Must I? Hadn’t you better put the beggar out of his misery? He isn’t a bit of good in the world, and has done a lot of harm to everyone he knows.”
“Bad fracture,” said Leigh, gravely, as he passed his hand round the insensible man’s head, “but not complicated. He must have fallen with tremendous violence.”
“Of course he did,” said Claud. “He had my weight on him, as well as his own. Can he hear what we say?”
“No, and will not for some time to come. Now, take the scissors out of my pocket-book, and cut away all the hair round the back. There, cut close: don’t be afraid.”
“Afraid! Not I,” said Claud, with a laugh, “I’ll take it all off, and make him look like a—what I hope he will be—a convict.”
He began snipping away industriously, talking flippantly the while, to keep down the feeling of faintness which still troubled him.
“Fancy me coming to be old Garstang’s barber! I say, doctor, you’d like to keep a lock of the beggar’s hair, wouldn’t you? I mean to have one.”
“Mind what you are doing,” said Leigh, quietly; and as Claud went on cutting he prepared bandages with one hand and his teeth, from another of the fine damask napkins; and in spite of the pain he suffered, bandaged the injury, and at last sank exhausted in a chair, but rose directly to go across to the library.
“How is she?” said Claud, anxiously, upon his return.
“The effects are passing off, and in two or three hours I hope she will come to.”
“Then look here,” said Claud, anxiously, “ought I to—I mean, ought you to send over to somebody and tell her how things are going on? She’ll be horribly anxious.”
Leigh frowned slightly.
“You mean my sister, of course,” he said. “No; she is aware that I was called in to a case of emergency, but she does not know that it is here.”
“Doesn’t she know? I say, though, I’m a bit puzzled how you came here.”
“This man fetched me.”
“Fetched you? How came he to do that?”
“In ignorance of who I was, of course. But how came you here so opportunely?”
“Oh, I’ve been watching and tracking for long enough, till I ran him to earth; and I’ve been trying for days to get at him. Got hold of that woman with the tied-up head at last—only this evening—and was going to bribe her, but she let out everything to me, and after telling me everything, said she’d let me in. So I went for you, and as you were out I was obliged to try and get Kate away at once. You know the rest I say, this is what you call a climax, isn’t it?”
Leigh sat gazing at him sternly, but Claud did not avoid his eyes, and went on.
“Now look here; of course he got her for the sake of her money, and she can’t stop here. But she must be taken away as soon as she can be moved.”
“Of course.”
“Yes, of course,” said Claud, firmly. “It isn’t a time for stickling about ourselves; we’ve got to think about her, poor lass. Damn him! I feel as if I could go and tear all his bandages off—a beast!”
“What do you propose, then?” said Leigh, calmly.
“Well, for the present we’d better take her to your house. She must be in a horrid state, and the best thing for her is to find herself along with some one she loves. It will do her no end of good to find Jenny’s—I beg your pardon, Miss Leigh’s arms around her.”
“Yes, you are quite right; and I could go to an hotel.”
“Humph! Yes, I suppose you ought to, but I’ve been thinking of something else, if you don’t mind. The guv’nor’s shut up with his gout, so I think I ought to go home and fetch the mater. She talks a deal, but she’s a jolly motherly sort, and was fond of Kate. There’s no harm in her, only that she’s a bit soft about her beautiful boy—me, you know,” he said, with one of his old grins.
Leigh winced a little, and Claud’s face grew solemn directly.
“I say,” he said hastily, “it was queer that he should have come and fetched you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Leigh, “a curious stroke of fate, or whatever you may call it; and yet simple enough. It was in a case of panic; he was seeking a doctor, and my red lamp was the first he saw. But after all, it was the same when we were boys; if we had strong reasons, through some escapade, for wishing to avoid a certain person, he was the very first whom we met.”
“Yes, Mr Wilton; what you propose is the best course that can be pursued, and I think it is our duty towards your cousin; we can arrange later on what ought to be done about this man. You and your relatives may or may not think it right to prosecute him, but you may rest assured that his injury will keep him a close prisoner for a long while to come.”
“Yes, I suppose that fall was a regular crippler, but you have to think about prosecuting too. The law does not allow people to use pistols.”
“We can discuss that by-and-by. Now, please, I shall be greatly obliged if you will go to my sister, and tell her as much as you think is necessary. If she has gone to bed she must be roused. Ask her to be ready to receive Miss Wilton, and then I think you ought to go down to Northwood and fetch Mrs Wilton.”
“All right—like a shot,” said Claud, eagerly. “I mean directly,” he cried, colouring a little. “But, er—you mean this?”
“Of course,” said Leigh, smiling; “why should I not? Let me be frank with you, if I can with a sensation of having a hole bored through my arm with a red-hot bar. A short time back I felt that if there was a man living with whom I could never be on friendly terms, you were that man; but you have taught me that it is dangerous to judge any one from a shallow knowledge of what he is at heart. I know you better now; I hope to know you better in the future. Will you shake hands?”
“Oh!” ejaculated Claud, seizing the hand violently, and dropping it the next instant as if it were red-hot. For Leigh’s face contracted, and he turned faint from the agony caused by the jar. “What a thoughtless brute I am! Here, have another glass of that beast’s wine.”
“No, no, I’m better now. There, quick! It must be very late, and I don’t want my sister to have gone to bed. I dare say she would sit up for me some time, though.”
“Yes, I’m off,” cried Claud, excitedly; “but let me say—no, no, I can’t say it now; you must mean it, though, or you wouldn’t have spoken like that.”
He had reached the door, when Leigh stopped him.
“I’ll go in first and see how your cousin is; Jenny would like the last report.”
“Better, certainly,” he said on his return; and Claud hurried out of the house.
“He said ‘Jenny,’” he muttered, as he ran towards Leigh’s new home. “‘Jenny,’ not ‘my sister,’ or ‘Miss Leigh.’ Oh, what a lucky brute I am! But I do wish I wasn’t such a cad!”