Two or three of the servants broke away from the main body and ran frantically in search of the required cord, glad to be of use, and very soon Sir Adrian, bound as humanely as his struggles rendered possible, was borne to his own room and laid upon his bed.
“Ring up the doctor,” ordered Blaise, as he assisted in the rather difficult process of conveying Sir Adrian upstairs. “Tell him to come to Charnwood as quickly as he can get here.” And another eager little detachment of domestics flew off to carry out his bidding. The under-footman won the race for the telephone by a good half-yard, and, in a voice which fairly twittered with the agitating and amazing news he had to impart, transmitted the message to the doctor’s parlour-maid at the other end of the wire, adding a few picturesque and stimulating details concerning the struggle which had just taken place—and which, apparently, he had perceived with the eye of faith through the wooden panels of the locked door.
Meanwhile Nick and Jean had turned their attention towards releasing Claire, who, as the last of her bonds was cut, toppled forward in a dead faint into the former’s arms.
A second procession wended its way upstairs, Nick bearing the slight, unconscious figure in his arms while Jean and a kindly-faced housemaid followed.
“Her ladyship’s maid is out, miss,” volunteered the girl. “But perhaps I can help?”
Jean smiled at her, the frank, friendly smile that always won for her the eager, willing service of man and maid alike.
“I’m sure you can,” she said gently. “As soon as we can bring her ladyship round, you shall help me undress her and put her to bed.”
In a few minutes Claire recovered consciousness, but she was horribly shaken and distraught, crying and clinging to Jean or to the housemaid—who was almost crying, too, out of sympathy—like a child frightened by the dark.
Jean, understanding just what was needed, shepherded Nick to the door of the room, where he lingered unhappily, his anxious gaze still fixed on the slender, shrinking figure upon the couch.
“Don’t worry, Nick,” she said reassuringly. “She’ll he all right; it’s only reaction. But I know what she wants—she wants a real mother-person. Go down and ring up Lady Anne, will you, and ask her to come over in the car as quickly as she can.”