“I want to ask you just one thing about that man.”
I was talking to empty space. Bruce Deville was already almost out of sight, striding along across the short turf, with his broad back turned to me. Soon he had vanished amongst the shadows. There was nothing for me to do but to return to the house.
CHAPTER XIV
ADELAIDE FORTRESS’S GUEST
My father did not appear at breakfast time the next morning, and Alice, who took him up some tea, came down in some concern.
“Father is not getting up until this afternoon, at any rate,” she announced. “He is very unwell. I wish he would let us send for a doctor. He has looked so dreadfully ill since he came back from London.”
Under the circumstances I was perhaps less alarmed than I might have otherwise been. It was clear to me that he did not wish to see the girl who had called upon me yesterday. I was strongly inclined to look upon his present indisposition as somewhat exaggerated with a view to escaping a meeting with her. But I was soon to be undeceived. I went up to him after breakfast, and, gaining no answer to my knock at the door, I entered softly. He was lying quite still upon the bed, partially dressed, and at first I thought that he was asleep. I moved to his side on tiptoe, and a sudden shock of fear drove the color from my face, and set my heart beating wildly. His eyes were closed, his cheeks were pale as death. Upon his side, underneath his waistcoat, was a linen bandage, half soaked with blood. Evidently he had fainted in the act of fastening it.
I got some brandy and forced it between his lips, chafed his hands, and gradually the life seemed to return to him. He opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Don’t move!” I whispered. “I will see to the bandage.”