CHAPTER XXVII.
ANNOT'S MISGIVINGS.
Jack Elliot's mishap—accident though it could scarcely be called—thoroughly marred and shortened the partridge shooting at Earlshaugh, and the birds had quite a holiday of it.
'Never mind, Jack,' Roland had said on his departure for Edinburgh, 'you'll make amends when the pheasants are ready.'
Irritated by the event which had struck him down—exasperated by the whole affair, the secret motives for which had gradually become more apparent to him, Elliot tossed on his bed feverishly and wearily, at times scarcely conscious, in a sleepy trance, for he had lost much blood; but being a tough fellow, with a splendid constitution, he soon became convalescent, after the few grains of No. 5 that lodged had been picked out by the doctors.
Feverishly he called for cooling draughts, which were always at hand, prepared by old Mrs. Drugget, the buxom housekeeper, and even by grim, grave Mrs. Lindsay, whom the catastrophe had seriously startled and upset, as it showed the cruelty, cunning, and devilish villany of which her brother and protégé was capable.
Mrs. Drugget, influenced by Jack's love of Maude, whom she had known from infancy, scarcely left the patient for an instant, and ever sat motionless and watchful by his bedside, till he was safe, and in the way of a rapid recovery.
Many were the calls to know the progress of the invalid, whose 'accident' had made some noise and excited much speculation; carriages were always rolling up to the porte-cochère, the great iron bell of which was clanged incessantly, and on the same errand horsemen came cantering across the park; and one thing seemed certain, that, until the party then assembled at Earlshaugh left the place, Mr. Hawkey Sharpe would not show himself there in the field, nor under the roof of the house, it was confidently supposed.
Ere long Elliot was promoted from jellies and beef-tea to chicken and champagne, administered by the loving little white hands of Maude; and, with such a nurse, it seemed not a bad thing to lie convalescent to one like Jack, who had undergone enteric fever in the hospital at Ismailia, by the Lake of Tismah, and later still in the huts at Quarantine Island, by the burning shore of Suakim.
Maude grew bright and merry; she had got over the shock; but yet had in her heart all the terror and loathing it could feel for the hand that had dealt the injury—an injury which, but for the scandal it must have caused in the county generally, and in the 'East Neuk' in particular, might have been made a very serious matter for Mr. Hawkey Sharpe.