Beatrice ran to the door and opened it. "Help! help!" she cried, not thinking of the mad thing she was doing to provoke this murderer to wrath. There was no help near--The Camp was completely isolated, and unless Durban came back at once, or Vivian returned, she was at the mercy of this wild beast in the lonely place. Waterloo apparently guessed that he could do what he liked, for he made a spring to get out of the passage. As he did so he was pulled back, and gave a yell of alarm.
"Oh lor', who's got me? 'Elp! 'elp! Ah! ow--ow--it's the Major--it's----" Here he was pulled out of sight. Apparently the Major, on the track of the man who had betrayed him, had entered the secret passage also, and was pulling the traitor down into the depths. Beatrice stared at the gaping black hole, and heard sounds of snarling and worrying and swearing and fighting going on in the bowels of the earth. Suddenly she heard the shriek of a man in mortal agony. With an effort she opened wide the counting-house door, anxious only to escape from the horrible place; but as the sunshine streamed on her face, everything seemed to grow black round her, and she fell down in a dead faint.
[CHAPTER XXVI]
WHAT TOOK PLACE
It was quite two months before Beatrice Hall recovered sufficiently to hear after-events. For a long time she remained unconscious, and then came to herself only to suffer from a severe attack of brain fever. The poor girl had gone through so much--she had borne up with such bravery--that the long-continued strain had sapped her strength, and she was seriously ill for weeks. Even when she recovered her reason--which she did, owing to the careful and assiduous nursing of Vivian and his sister--the doctor would not allow her to be told anything. And, indeed, Beatrice did not seem anxious to hear: it appeared as though her mind was a blank. All she cared to do was to lie on her bed, and listen to Vivian reading some soothing book.
Dr. Herman (the same who had examined the corpse of Alpenny, and had given evidence at the inquest) was her medical attendant, and he conducted the treatment with great care. With such a delicately-balanced brain as Beatrice possessed, and after she had undergone such terrible experiences, the doctor seemed to be doubtful if she would be quite sane when she got back her physical strength. He went about with a grave face, and Vivian's heart was wrung with anguish as he thought of what might happen. It seemed terrible that he should, for once, have a chance of happiness with the woman he loved, only to find that she would suffer from something worse than death. In those long days of suspense Vivian turned more to God than he had ever done before in his careless life. And God rewarded his faith. Slowly but surely Beatrice recovered, and when the doctor permitted her to be taken on to the terrace in the mild autumn weather, the peace and fresh air completed her cure. She felt her brain becoming much steadier, and again began to take an interest in life. But always she desired to have Vivian by her side, and was never so happy as when he sat beside her couch holding her hand. In two months she was quite her old self, although paler and thinner. But the troubles she had passed through left their marks on her lovely face and in her sad eyes.
"Let me tell her everything now," Vivian urged to Dr. Herman one day; "she is beginning to ask questions, and will not be satisfied with being put off with vague replies."
"Ah," said the doctor with much satisfaction, "she is asking questions, is she? Then you can take it from me, Mr. Paslow, that she will recover completely. It is that renewed interest in life which I wished to see. Wait for a week, and then she will be strong enough to hear what you have to say. But when she once knows," added the doctor, raising his finger gravely, "never let her hear of the subject again."
"Never, never!" said Vivian, with a shudder, as he also was only too anxious to bury the past which had tormented him for so long. And then he went to tell the joyful news to Durban.
Needless to say, Durban also had been watching everlastingly beside the couch and bed of the creature whom he held dearest on earth. He was like a dog, and when not within the sick-room would lie on the mat at the door. When he heard that his dear young mistress was out of danger, he almost went out of his mind, and vehemently embraced Mrs. Lilly, much to the indignation of that portly female. But when she saw his dog-like devotion, she forgave that exuberant expression of the man's feelings.