Part 30 (1/2)
She liked his voice--it had a deep and musical quality. She was glad he was there. Something in his strength seemed to reach out to her and give her courage.
When the pain began again, he gave her another drink from the gla.s.s, and when she drifted off, she came back to the echo of a softly-whistled tune.
”I beg your pardon,” the Major said as she opened her eyes; ”it is a bad habit that I permit myself when I have things on my mind. My men said they always knew by the tune I whistled the mood I was in. And that there was only one tune they were afraid of.”
”What was that?”
”'Good-night, Ladies----'” He threw back his head and laughed. ”When I began on that they knew it was all up with them----”
She tried to laugh with him, but it was a twisted grin. ”Oh,” she said and began to tremble. She saw his eyes melt to tenderness. ”Oh, you poor little thing.”
She was conscious after that of the firm hand which held hers. The deep voice which soothed. Through all that blinding agony she was conscious of his call to courage--she wondered if he had called his men like that--over there----
When the doctor came, he shook his head. ”We'd better keep her here.
She is in no condition to be moved to Hamilton Hill, not over these roads. Can you make room for her, Mrs. Flippin?”
”She can have my room,” said Mary; ”Fiddle and I can go up-stairs----”
They moved Madge, and Mrs. Flippin and Mary got her to bed. The Major sat in the sitting-room and talked to Randy, and as he talked he held Madge's hat in his hand. It had a brim of straw and a crown of mauve silk. The Major, turning it round and round on a meditative finger, thought of the woman who had worn it. She was a pretty woman, a very oddly pretty woman.
”Is she related to Mrs. Waterman, Kemp?” he asked.
”No, sir. But she's been there all summer. And then she went away, and they sent for her because Mrs. Waterman is ill.”
Randy rather indiscreetly flung out, ”It seems as if the trail of that Waterman crowd is over our world. I suppose we shall have to get the news of this up to them somehow.”
”I can telephone Mr. Dalton, sir.”
”Is Dalton still there?”
”Yes, sir. And he had a headache this morning, and stayed in bed, or he would have been in the car, sir----”
Randy wished bloodthirstily that Dalton had been in the car. Why couldn't Dalton have been smashed instead of Madge?
”I might call up Mr. Waterman instead of Mr. Dalton,” Kemp suggested.
”If Mr. Dalton's in bed, he'll hate to be disturbed.”
”Are you afraid of him, Kemp?”
Kemp's honest eyes met Randy's burning glance. ”No, I am not afraid.
I am leaving his service, sir.”
They stared at him. ”Leaving his service, why?” Randy demanded.
”He called me a fool this morning. And I am not a fool, sir.”
”What made him say that?” Randy asked, with interest.
”He ordered a kidney omelette for breakfast, and I brought it, and he wouldn't eat it, and blamed me. I am willing to serve any man, but not without self-respect, sir.”