She had been up twice to see that the captain's room was in order, and like any valet had laid out everything that would be required for the night. So, leaving the candles alight, she had come down to stand at the door of the keep-house again and watch the slow whirling stars almost stupidly, and wonder what had best be done at once to keep Duke friends with his father, and at the same time to get him away from the godless crew up at the castle.
A staggering step and Marmaduke's voice joyously thick saying--
"All right, James, you needn't come any further. I can find my way now. Good-night. Andrew--where the deuce are you, Andrew? Why weren't you waiting?" sent her in haste to fulfil her promise. But the hot fit had this time had a firmer grip on Andrew than either she or he had expected, and she found him lying with closed eyes half-unconscious. And though he roused at her touch it was only to mutter: "Let me be, mother! I'm no goin' to the schule the day. I wunna; let me be, I say!"
Marrion, seeing he was useless, laid a wet cloth on his head and returned to her station by the door. It was a dark night and she could see nothing. Neither could she hear anything.
What had happened? Had Marmaduke managed the stairs by himself? If so, well and good. He could be left to his own devices, and serve him very well right! The candles were in a safe place. But if he had fallen by the way, he would be out all night. Serve him right also! Her lips curled with scorn, and she was about to go in and close the door when she remembered that the kitchen girls shaking their mats in the quadrangle in the early morning would see him if he were lying there. If it were men it would not have mattered, but that girls should see and snigger was unbearable. She must go and make sure this would not happen. Taking the lantern--for it was pitch dark--she made her way to the foot of the stair. He was lying with his head on the lowest step, as he had fallen, sleeping peacefully. The cool night air had completed the work of wine, and so doubtless he would sleep for hours. But he must not; that disgrace must be avoided. Kneeling beside him she shook him violently by the shoulder; he roused a little, but not much, and as he sank back to renewed slumber she looked helpless for a moment, then angry. It was too bad! He must be roused somehow. She lifted her hand and gave him a good smart blow on the cheek.
The effect was magical.
"Marmie," he murmured dazedly, then sat up and said confusedly, "What is it, my dear?"
"You've got to get up and go to your bed, Mr. Duke," she replied. "Come, be quick about it."
He stumbled to his feet obediently.
"Certainly, certainly! No objection whatever," he said thickly; but when by the light of the lantern he saw the stairs he gave a silly laugh, and said amiably: "Quite impossible, I 'sure you. Where's Andrew?"