Part 40 (1/2)
Young Perch!
V
In the morning a mysterious man with a large white face, crooked spectacles and a crooked tie, and a suggestion of thinking all the time of something else, or of nothing at all, mysteriously drifted into the house, drifted about it with apparent complete aimlessness of purpose, and presently showed himself to Sabre as about to drift out of it again.
This was the doctor, a stranger, one of those new faces which the war, removing the old, was everywhere introducing, and possessed of a mysterious and astounding faculty of absorbing, resolving, and subjugating all matters without visibly attending to any matter. ”Leave everything to me,” it was all he seemed to say. He did nothing yet everything seemed to come to his hand with the nicety and exactness of a drawing-room conjurer. He bewildered Sabre.
His car left and returned during his brief visit. Sabre, who had thought him upstairs, and who had a hundred perplexities to inquire of him, found him in the hall absorbed in adjusting the weights of a grandfather's clock.
He remarked to Sabre, ”I thought you'd gone. You'd better get off and get a bath and some breakfast. Nothing you can do here. Leave everything to me.”
”But, look here, I can't leave--”
”That's all right. Just leave everything to me. I'm taking Miss Bright back to my wife for breakfast and a rest. After lunch I'll run her to her home. She can't stay here. Have you any idea how this thing hooks on?”
”But what about--”
The extraordinary man seemed to know everything before it was said.
”That's all right. I've sent for a woman and her daughter. Leave everything to me. Here's the car. Here they are.”
Two women appeared.
”But about--”
”Yes, that's all right. The poor old lady's brother is coming down.
He'll take charge. I found his name in her papers last night.
Telegraphed.” He was looking through the door. ”Here's the answer.”
A telegraph messenger appeared.
Astounding man!
He read the telegram. ”Yes, that's all right. He'll be here by the eleven train at Tidborough. I'll take Miss Bright now.”
Effie appeared.
Sabre had the feeling that if he opened the next thought in his mind, an undertaker would rise out of the ground with a coffin. This astonis.h.i.+ng man, coming upon his overwrought state, made him feel hysterical. He turned to Effie and gave her both his hands. ”The doctor's taking you, Effie. It's been dreadful for you. It's all over now. Try to leave it out of your mind for a bit.”
She smiled sadly. ”Good-by, Mr. Sabre. Thank you so much, so very much, for coming and staying. What I should have done without you I daren't think. I've never known any one so good as you've been to me.”
”I've done nothing, Effie, except feel sorry for you.”
He saw her into the car. No, he would not take a lift.
”Well, leave everything to me,” said the doctor. The chauffeur spoke to him about some engine trouble. ”Yes, I'll see to that. Leave everything to me, Jenkins.”
Even his car!
VI