Part 66 (1/2)
The night was wonderfully still and dark. As he paused before entering the house, he could hear the bark falling from the trees a quarter of a mile off, and the opossums scratching and snapping little twigs as they pa.s.sed from bough to bough. Somewhere, apparently at an immense distance, a morepork was chanting his monotonous cry. The frogs in the creek were silent even, so hot was the night. ”A good night for watching,” said he to Lee when he came in. ”Lie you down; I'll take the first watch.”
They blew out the candle, and Lee was in the act of lying down, when he arrested himself, and held up his finger to Tom.
They both listened, motionless and in silence, until they could hear the spiders creeping on the ceiling. There it was again! A stealthy step on the gravel.
Troubridge and Lee crouched down breathless. One minute, two, five, but it did not come again. At length they both moved, as if by concert, and Lee said, ”'Possum.”
”Not a bit,” said Troubridge; and then Lee lay down again, and slept in the light of the flickering fire. One giant arm was thrown around his head, and the other hung down in careless grace; the great chest was heaved up, and the head thrown back; the seamed and rugged features seemed more stern and marked than ever in the chiaroscuro; and the whole man was a picture of reckless strength such as one seldom sees.
Tom had dozed and had awoke again, and now sat thinking, ”What a terrible tough customer that fellow would be!” when suddenly he crouched on the floor, and, reaching out his hand, touched Lee, who woke, and silently rolled over with his face towards the window.
There was no mistake this time--that was no opossum. There came the stealthy step again; and now, as they lay silent, the gla.s.s-door was pushed gently open, showing the landscape beyond. The gibbous moon was just rising over the forest, all blurred with streaky clouds, and between them and her light they could see the figure of a man, standing inside the room.
Tom could wait no longer. He started up, and fell headlong with a crash over a little table that stood in his way. They both dashed into the garden, but only in time to hear flying footsteps, and immediately after the gallop of a horse, the echoes of which soon died away, and all was still.
”Missed him, by George!” said Lee. ”It was a precious close thing, though. What could he mean by coming into the house,--eh?”
”Just as I expected; trying to get an interview with the mistress. He will be more cautious in future, I take it.”
”I wonder if he will try again?”
”Don't know,” said Troubridge; ”he might: not to-night, however.”
They went in and lay down again, and Troubridge was soon asleep; and very soon that sleep was disturbed by dreadful dreams. At one time he thought he was riding madly through the bush for his bare life; spurring on a tired horse, which was failing every moment more and more. But always through the tree-stems on his right he saw glancing, a ghost on a white horse, which kept pace with him, do what he would. Now he was among the precipices on the ranges. On his left, a lofty inaccessible cliff; on the right, a frightful blue abyss; while the slaty soil kept sliding from beneath his horse's feet. Behind him, unseen, came a phantom, always gaining on him, and driving him along the giddiest wallaby tracks. If he could only turn and face it, he might conquer, but he dare not. At length the path grew narrower and narrower, and he turned in desperation and awoke--woke to see in the dim morning light a dark figure bending over him. He sprang up, and clutched it by the throat.
”A most excellent fellow this!” said the voice of Doctor Mulhaus. ”He sends a frantic midnight message for his friend to come to him, regardless of personal convenience and horseflesh; and when this friend comes quietly in, and tries to wake him without disturbing the sick folks, he seizes him by the throat and nearly throttles him.”
”I beg a thousand pardons, Doctor,” said Tom; ”I had been dreaming, and I took you for the devil. I am glad to find my mistake.”
”You have good reason,” said the Doctor; ”but now, how is the patient?”
”Asleep at present, I believe; the housekeeper is with her.”
”What is the matter with her?”
”She has had a great blow. It has shaken her intellect, I am afraid.”
”What sort of a blow?” asked the Doctor.
Tom hesitated. He did not know whether to tell him or not.
”Nay,” said the Doctor, ”you had better let me know. I can help then, you know. Now, for instance, has she heard of her husband?”
”She has, Doctor. How on earth came you to guess that?”
”A mere guess, though I have always thought it quite possible, as the accounts of his death were very uncertain.”
Tom then set to work, and told the Doctor all that we know. He looked very grave. ”This is far worse than I had thought,” he said, and remained thoughtful.
Mary awoke in a fever and delirious. They kept Charles as much from her as possible, lest she should let drop some hint of the matter to the boy; but even in her delirium she kept her secret well; and towards the evening the Doctor, finding her quieter, saddled his horse, and rode away ten miles to a towns.h.i.+p, where resided a drunken surgeon, one of the greatest blackguards in the country.