XIII.
The effects of striking the head against a well-built fence may vary in severity, ranging all the way from a simple contusion through concussion of the brain to a broken neck. If unconsciousness results it may last from a fraction of a second to—eternity. In Winthrop’s case it lasted something less than ten minutes, at the end of which time he awoke to a knowledge of a dully aching head and an uncomfortable left shoulder. Unlike some other injuries, a broken collar-bone is a plain, open-and-above-board affliction, with small likelihood of mysterious complications. It is possible for the surgeon to tell within a day or two the period of resulting incapacity. The Old Doctor said two weeks. Sunday morning Uncle Ran unpacked Winthrop’s trunk, arranging the contents in the former places with evident satisfaction. On Monday Winthrop was up and about the house, quite himself save for the temporary loss of his left arm and a certain stiffness of his neck.
Miss India was once more in her element. As an invalid, Winthrop had been becoming something of a disappointment, but now he was once again in his proper rôle. Miss India kept an anxiously watchful eye on him, and either Uncle Ran or Phœbe was certain to be hovering about whenever he lifted his eyes. The number of eggnoggs and other strengthening beverages which Winthrop was compelled to drink during the ensuing week would be absolutely appalling if set down in cold print.
Of Holly he caught but brief glimpses those first days of his disability. She was all soft solicitude, but found occupations that kept her either at the back of the house or in her chamber. She feared that Winthrop was awaiting a convenient moment when they were alone to ask her about the accident. As a matter of fact, he had little curiosity about it. He was pretty certain that Julian had in some manner frightened the horse, but he had not heard the sound of the whip, since Holly’s sudden cry and the mare’s instant start had drowned it. It seemed a very slight matter, after all. Doubtless Julian’s rage had mastered him for the instant, and doubtless he was already heartily ashamed of himself. Indeed his ministrations to Winthrop pending the arrival of the Old Doctor had been as solicitous as friendship could have demanded. Winthrop was quite ready to let by-gones be by-gones.
“Besides,” Winthrop told himself, “I deliberately led him on to lose control of himself. I’m as much to blame as he is. I wasn’t in my right mind myself that night; maybe the evening ended less disastrously than it might have. I dare say it was the moonlight. I’ve blamed everything so far on the weather, and the moonlight might as well come in for its share. Served me right, too, for wanting to make a holy show of myself on horseback. Oh, I was decidedly mad that night; moon-mad, that’s it.” He reflected a moment, then— “The worst thing about being knocked unconscious,” he went on, “is that you don’t know what happens until you come to again. Now I’d like to have looked on at events. For instance, I’d give a thousand dollars—if I still possess that much—to know what Holly did or said, or didn’t do. I think I’ll ask her.”
He smiled at the idea. Then—
“Why not?” he said, half aloud. “I want to know; why not ask? Why, hang it all, I will ask! And right now, too.”