He strode out of the room. Mr. Bergan hesitated a moment, and then followed him. At the door, he was met by a servant from Oakstead, who delivered a message, in a low tone; of which Doctor Remy, who was standing near, caught the words, "Richard Causton—business of importance." Mr. Bergan listened half-impatiently, gave a brief answer, and hastened after Hubert.
Doctor Remy watched them down the avenue, with a clouded brow. The triumphant light had gone out in his eyes; a chill premonition of evil was at his heart; already he seemed to feel his prize slipping from his hand. "Excuse me," he said, hurriedly, to those who remained, "I have urgent business to attend to." In another moment he was on his horse, galloping swiftly across the fields.
VI.
HELP AT HAND.
Dick Causton's cottage—as it was called by courtesy, being, in truth, only a better sort of cabin—stood on a sandy corner of the estate that he had formerly owned. At first, he had begged to remain there only until he could fix upon some more eligible place of abode; but the owner was good natured, and Dick was indolent to the point not only of letting well enough alone, but bad enough, too; so it gradually came to be understood that he was a life-tenant, by sufferance, of the place. Nor did the owner deem it worth while to interfere, when, in course of time, Dick made the discovery that the sand composing this small domain was of superior quality, and proceeded to convert it into cash, at the rate of two or three pennies a load, and to swallow it a second time, in the shape of alcohol. The process ceased only when the digging threatened to undermine the cottage; which was thus left high and dry upon a triangular sand promontory, with a deep excavation on each side. The base of the triangle—a part of it, at least—touched the boundary line of Oakstead, very near the point where Bergan had been left for dead by "Big Ben."
Dick had risen unusually early on that morning. Owing to his sudden flight from the Rat-Hole, he had failed to replenish his stock of brandy, as he had designed; and the small quantity on hand had been insufficient to blunt the thorns in his pillow, planted partly by Doctor Remy's threats, and partly by the reproaches of his own conscience. He had tossed about on their sharp points for the better part of the night, and was glad when dawn brought such a measure of relief as was to be derived from movement and occupation. In the absence of stronger stimulant, he was fain to brace his nerves with a cup of tea; to which end a fire was unfortunately necessary, and fuel must be sought in the adjoining woods of Oakstead. While engaged in this task, he, caught sight of a prostrate form, half-hidden in the underbrush.
"Quien busca, hallará,—He who seeks will find, but he cannot tell what," he muttered, peevishly. "Is the fellow drunk, or only asleep, I wonder?"
He stole some paces nearer, then gave a start and stopped; he had seen blood stains on the man's clothing. At the same moment, the lines of the figure struck him as familiar, and while he strove to identify them, a light breeze lifted the leaves of an overhanging bush, and revealed an easily recognized profile. Immediately he was kneeling by Bergan, trying his best to discover some sign of life.
He was unsuccessful; yet, thanks to his store of proverbs, he did not quite despair. "No barber shaves so close that another cannot find work," he said, encouragingly, to himself, and bent all his energies to the difficult task of dragging Bergan into his cabin. He dared not wait to call assistance, none being within easy reach; besides, he reasoned that the transit, if not too ungently managed, would tend to restoration rather than, otherwise. Moreover, having at once connected Doctor Remy with Bergan's condition, and being thereby inspired with an inordinate dread of the doctor's power to harm, he fancied that the first necessity was to get the young man into a place of concealment.
"A good heart rids work," he murmured exultingly, when, panting and exhausted, after many a pause for breath, and many a start of fright, he at length dragged Bergan across his threshold, and closed and locked the door.