Shortly afterward a voice reached us through an open door. It was Calvert’s, saying, “I want you to understand, sir, that if we had not struck Lorimer’s camp we should have starved to death. I saw the accident from a distance, and again it’s my firm opinion that he ran the utmost risk to extricate Ormond. If the latter were my own brother I should consider myself indebted to him for life.”
“I am glad to hear it,” answered an unseen person, whom it was easy to recognize as the footsteps drew nearer. “Still, one must take precautions; and, as I observed, in the circumstances 286 some people might have suspicions. I may say that, indirectly, Lorimer knew that he would profit by my partner’s death.”
I started, and would have risen, burning with wrath, but Grace’s clasp held me fast. The next moment her father and Calvert entered the room. The former glanced toward us in cold surprise; and then, in a hard, ringing tone, Grace said:
“There is still, I hope, a little charity left in the world. The reference is hardly becoming. There are others beside Mr. Lorimer who would benefit, directly, by Geoffrey Ormond’s death.”
I would have spoken, but she prevented me; and her father stood for a moment speechless with astonishment. Grace was a dutiful daughter, and, though he must have tried her patience hardly now and then, I fancied that this was the first time she had ever openly defied him; while I saw that the shaft had gone home. Colonel Carrington was not, however, to be shaken into any exhibition of feeling, for he turned to me with his usual chilliness:
“I congratulate you on your lucky escape,” he said. “Calvert has told me. If you are quite ready, Grace, and will get on your wrappings, we will drive over and visit the sick man immediately.”
So, seeing that my presence was by no means desired, I saluted the Colonel with stiffness, and hurried on foot in the direction of Wilson’s house. He was a bachelor, it appeared, who dealt in mining gear, and during their business intercourse had made friends with Ormond. Now he was absent inland, but his housekeeper had placed the pretty wooden dwelling at our patient’s disposal. What passed between the latter and Colonel Carrington I do not know, but when Grace met me on the stairway as I entered she said: 287
“He told us how much you had done for him, and made my father believe it even against his will.”
Presently the surgeon came down.
“I can do little for him,” he said. “There are internal injuries—I needn’t describe them—which practically leave no hope of recovery. You can’t get a trained woman nurse for love or money, and it rests between yourselves and a Chinaman. I fancy that he would prefer you. I don’t know how he stood the journey.”