Part 38 (1/2)

”I give this man in charge,” said Cheveril sternly, pointing to Zynool, whose countenance became black with rage and fear. ”Saw him with my own eyes trample down this--this victim,” he added, pointing to the motionless form at his feet.

Leaving Zynool in the strong grip of the representative of authority, Mark turned his attention to the injured man. A stretcher was hastily improvised from the remains of an outside shutter that dangled from a window hard by. Two Hindus who recognised the a.s.sistant-Collector volunteered their help. Lifting the prostrate form, they carried it to the Dispensary, which, fortunately, was at the end of the street, and more fortunately still, the cavalcade was met by Dr. Campbell. The place was already full of the wounded brought in from the fray. A brief explanation sufficed, and Rayner's helpless form was carried to a mattress in a corner of the large room.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

”This is horrible, Cheveril!” said Dr. Campbell, bending over his patient. ”Every bit of him is mangled except his head. Poor chap, it seems like the work of a beast of prey.”

”So it was, Campbell, a human beast of prey! I actually saw Zynool force his horse on him, knock him down, and make it trample on his fallen body,” whispered Mark, his eyes still full of the horror of the scene.

”But how in the world did Rayner come to be in the guise of a native woman, I should like to know? Did he come to a.s.sist the Mussulmans, do you think? I know he's been intriguing with that villain Zynool. Perhaps he wanted to see the fruits of his handiwork, _incognito_.”

”No, I fear it was more than that. Zynool muttered something I only half understood,” returned Mark with a troubled air. ”They had quarrelled, evidently, and Zynool indicated that Rayner was a fugitive from justice.

I only hope it's not true!”

”Well, in a way it don't matter now--not to him, at least, poor fellow.

Every organ is smashed. He's living still, though,--his heart's flickering. Brandy, Tobias,” called the doctor to his Eurasian dresser.

A few drops of the stimulant diluted with water were pa.s.sed between the blanched lips. ”We'll cut away those red rags,” said the doctor, and adroitly set to work. Presently Rayner was divested of his disguise.

Finding his watch and one or two papers in his pocket, and his store of gold, the doctor handed them to Mark; and after having arranged as best he could for the comfort of the patient, he was called away to other urgent cases.

Mark, on his knees beside the low pallet, continued to watch the stricken man in the dim light. The dresser had brought a sponge and carefully washed the stained face, and the ashen features gleamed like those of a marble profile.

”What a perfectly beautiful face it is!” murmured Mark to himself. ”Yet it lacks strength of character.” All at once he recalled the pictured face of Mr. Morpeth's wife which Hester and he had examined that happy afternoon, in which she had seen a likeness to her husband. ”A wonderful resemblance! I can see it now, and just that same something lacking.”

His thoughts now strayed to Hester, and the trouble hovering over her in this terrible disaster. Trying and unstable as this man had proved, the shock and horror of this event would mark a terrible crisis in her young life. He recalled her query, evidently wrung from a sore heart that morning at St. Thomas' Mount. Would the Master's shaping process be always sharp and painful and inscrutable--the tools He used sometimes making the poor quivering heart bleed? A sore answer was coming to that question.

Mark's reverie was now disturbed by the approach of the doctor. He was showing signs of excitement, and he stooped down and lilted low: ”The Campbells are coming, hurrah, hurrah! The Campbells are coming, hurrah!”

”I know,” nodded Mark quietly. ”I saw the first of them appearing just at the moment this happened. Otherwise I doubt if even the claim of this poor fellow should have brought me from my post. The Collector's all right, is he?”

”As right as a trivet, and in great spirits. Rioters on both sides scuttling like rabbits. The police-peons are now, at last, busy making arrests and Samptor's striding about like an avenging fate! They've got Zynool--not without a struggle. However, he is nabbed, and the warrant out to search his house at once. Mootuswamy Moodliar has seen to that.

It will be the Andamans for him, without doubt. The streets will soon be empty. The soldiers are to camp here for the night, but the danger's over. Here, alas, we have the worst result of the riot,” said the doctor, glancing round on the rows of wounded men, many of them crying out in pain, others beyond any expression of their misery.

”Look, Campbell,” said Mark, his eyes eagerly fixed on Rayner's face.

”Isn't there some sign of returning consciousness here?”

A slight tremor pa.s.sed through the mangled frame, the eyelids quivered and opened, and Rayner fixed his eyes on Mark's face for a moment, then closed them again. Presently, however, Mark found his large, l.u.s.treless eyes resting steadily upon him. The broken man made an effort to speak, but the voice was so low and faint it was difficult to catch the words.

”Cheveril!--It is you--thought I was dreaming--where am I? In Zynool's house--I remember. He spotted me--drove his horse on me--my own Australian too. He's done for me, Cheveril--every limb--game's up--nothing matters now----”

His voice died away, but after a moment he roused himself and fixed his eyes on the pitying face bending over him. ”Kind, by Jove! I saw you--before Zynool--went for me.”

”Don't be afraid, Rayner, this is not Zynool's house. It's the hospital, you're all right here,” said Mark, taking his limp hand.

”You brought me here--kind--I'll tell Hester.” His lips parted in a feeble smile, then his face became convulsed. ”Never see Hester again,”