Part 19 (1/2)
”It is all right; she is not hurt, only frightened a little. Get her bed ready.”
Upon hearing this, Mrs Gaunt, taking the notion into her head that her husband and Percy were following at their leisure, hurried away to prepare Lucille's bed for her, leaving Mrs Henderson to receive her child. This afforded the doctor an opportunity which, to speak the truth, was most welcome to him. He knew from experience the consummate tact which women are wont to exercise in the breaking of bad news, and he resolved forthwith to delegate to his wife the task to which he had been looking forward with so much mental perturbation. So, as soon as he reached his wife's side, he said hastily:
”Look here, Rose dear, you need not be alarmed. With the exception of being frightened very nearly out of her wits, poor child, there is nothing wrong with Lucille; she has swooned with terror, but I can soon put her all right again. The Malays, however, have landed on the island; and I am dreadfully afraid they have got Gaunt and poor little Percy, but we can know nothing for certain until the return of Manners and Nicholls, who have gone forward to reconnoitre. There is no time now to enter into particulars--they can be told by and by; but poor Mrs Gaunt is certain to inquire presently for her husband and child, so I want you to go to her _now_--leave Lucille to me; take her to her own room, and break to her as gently as possible what I have just told you, laying stress at the same time upon the fact that we _know_ nothing certainly as yet, and that matters may turn out much better than we apprehend. Look! there she is. Now go to her and be as gentle with her as you can.”
Full of sympathy, Mrs Henderson at this hurried away upon her painful errand; whilst her husband, as soon as the coast was clear, made his way down to his own room with the unconscious Lucille.
Arrived there, he laid the child upon her bed, and then opened the compact medicine chest which, on leaving England, he had happily taken the precaution of adding to his personal outfit, and this done he forthwith set about the task of restoration.
The task proved more difficult and of longer duration than he had antic.i.p.ated; and before success rewarded his efforts his wife rejoined him, in tears.
”Well,” he said nervously, and without desisting a moment from his occupation, ”how have you managed?”
”Oh, Duncan!” sobbed Mrs Henderson, ”it was dreadful! Poor dear Ida is quite prostrated with grief and terror, though she did, and is still doing, her best to bear up under the awful agony of suspense. Fancy, dearest, both husband and child--oh, it is horrible! Can _nothing_ be done to save them?”
”Nothing, just now, I fear,” was the gloomy response. ”You see there are but three fighting men of us now, and we do not know how many of the enemy there are. It is quite useless to attempt the devising of plans until the other two return with intelligence; _then_, indeed, we will see what can be done. And it shall go hard but we will rescue them somehow. Where did you leave Mrs Gaunt?”
”In her own room on her knees, praying for her lost ones; it is all she can do, poor soul. Ah! the dear child is reviving at last, is she not, dear?”
”Yes, yes,” answered Henderson hurriedly. ”Now reach me that gla.s.s of medicine from the table. Thanks. Here, Lucille, my dear, drink this, little one, it will do you good.”
A faint tinge of returning colour had at length appeared in the child's pale cheeks and lips. This had been succeeded by a-fluttering sigh or two, and then her eyes had opened suddenly with a look of terror, which had given place to one of joy and relief as she recognised her father and mother bending over her. Upon which Henderson had gently raised her and promptly administered the draught which he had prepared.
Presently the little creature spoke. ”Oh, mamma,” she exclaimed, looking somewhat wildly about her, ”is it morning; is it time to get up?
I have had such a dreadful dream--”
”There; never mind your dream, dear; forget all about it, and try to go to sleep again,” said Mrs Henderson soothingly; ”it is not quite time to get up yet.”
”Yes; go to sleep again like a good girl,” agreed Henderson; ”but you can tell us your dream first, dear, if you very much wish to do so. You forget,” he added in an undertone to his wife; ”she may be able to throw a great deal of light upon the state of affairs, and afford us information of the last importance. What was your dream, darling?”
”Oh,” began the child, ”I dreamt that we--Mr Gaunt and Percy and I, you know--had been to the beach gathering sh.e.l.ls; and as we were coming back in the boat a great s.h.i.+p suddenly came round the corner, full of ugly, wicked men; and they fired guns at us, and one of them hit Mr Gaunt, for I saw the blood running down his face. And then they came after us in a boat, and were quite near us when we reached the creek; and then Mr Gaunt told Percy and me to run home as fast as ever we could; and he took one of the boat's oars and got out and stood on the beach, and looked as if he was going to fight the men. So Percy took my hand, and we ran--oh, ever so fast; and I looked round and saw Mr Gaunt fighting all the men with the oar; and then we turned a corner, and I felt tired and wanted to stop; but Percy wouldn't let me, and we kept on running, and I began to cry. And just as I wanted to stop again we heard somebody running after us, and I thought it was Mr Gaunt, but it wasn't; it was one of the ugly men out of the s.h.i.+p; and he had a long knife in his hand. So we ran faster, and then dear Percy fell down; but I ran on, and the ugly man caught Percy, and--oh, mamma!” Here the poor little creature's eyes filled with tears, and the frightened look returned to them. ”_Was_ it a dream, or did it really happen?”
”It really happened, dear,” answered Henderson, who made a point of never deceiving his child about anything; ”it really happened; but never mind; you are with us now, you know, and _quite_ safe, so lie down and try to go to sleep. And do not trouble about dear Percy; we will have him and his papa both safe back with us by to-morrow morning, please G.o.d. What a horrible experience for the poor child--and what dreadful news about those two!” he murmured to his wife as Lucille sank back and closed her eyes again under the influence of the soothing draught he had administered. ”Fancy that poor little fellow Percy in the hands of those fiends. Hark! is not that Manners' voice hailing outside? Stay here with Lucille and hold her hand, it will soothe her, and I will go and lower the ladder.”
With that Henderson hurried away, leaving his wife to watch by the bedside of their child, with a heart brimful of pity and sympathy for her bereaved friend, and of unspeakable grat.i.tude to G.o.d for the safety of her own loved ones.
Arrived at the head of the staircase, Henderson approached the parapet, and, leaning over, peered down into the gathering darkness.
”Is that you, Manners?” he asked, seeing a couple of figures standing close underneath him.
”Ay, ay, sir; here we are,” answered Manners for himself and his companion. ”Will you kindly lower the ladder, please, doctor?”
The ladder was lowered, and in another moment Nicholls made his appearance above the parapet, closely followed by Manners, who immediately hauled up the ladder after him.
”Well,” questioned Henderson impatiently, seeing that neither of the men evinced a disposition to speak; ”well, what is the news?”
”The worst, sir; the very worst,” answered Manners with unusual emotion.
”They've got both Mr Gaunt and little Percy; and, would you believe it, sir? the devils have actually been ill-treating the poor little fellow, just for the sake, seemingly, of tormenting his father.”
Henderson groaned aloud in sheer bitterness of spirit at hearing this.