Part 32 (1/2)
”It was quite impossible for him to come. He--he--”
”Pray go on! You are very tantalising.”
”The general has been badly wounded,” McKay now blurted out abruptly.
”Dear! dear!” she said, rather coolly. ”I am very sorry to hear it.
When and how did it occur?”
McKay explained.
”Poor dear!” This was the first word of sympathy she had spoken, and even now she made no offer to go to him.
”The doctors think there is no great danger if--”
”Danger!” This seemed to rouse her. ”I trust not.”
”No danger,” went on McKay, ”if only he can be properly nursed. They were glad to hear of the arrival of the yacht, and think he ought to be moved on board.”
”Oh, of course this will be the best place for him. When can he be brought? I suppose I ought to go to him. Will it be possible to get a conveyance to the front?”
”Nothing but an ambulance, I fear. And you know there is no road.”
”Upon my word I hardly know what to say.”
”We could manage a saddle-horse for you, I daresay.”
”I'm a very poor horsewoman: you see I'm half a foreigner. No; the best plan will be to stay on board and get everything ready for the poor dear man. When may we expect him?”
”The doctors seem to wish the removal might not be delayed. You may see us in the morning.”
”So, then, I am to have the pleasure of meeting you again, Mr. McKay?”
”I should be sorry to leave the general while I can be of any use. He has been a kind friend to me.”
”And you are a relation. Of course it is very natural you should wish to be at his side. I am sure I shall be delighted to have your a.s.sistance in nursing him,” said Mrs. Wilders, very graciously; and soon afterwards McKay took his leave.
”So that is the last stumbling-block in my son's way: a st.u.r.dy, self-reliant sort of gentleman, likely to be able to take care of himself. I should like to get him into my power: but how, I wonder, how?”
Next day they moved the wounded general to Balaclava, and got him safely on board the _Arcadia_. He was accompanied by a doctor and McKay.
Mrs. Wilders received her husband with the tenderest solicitude.
”How truly fortunate I came here!” she said, with the tears in her eyes.
”Lydstone made no objection, then? Has he remained at Constantinople?”
the general asked, feebly.
”Lydstone? Don't you know? He--” But why should she tell him? It would only distress him greatly, and, in his present precarious condition, he should be spared all kind of emotion. With this idea she had begged Captain Trejago to say nothing as yet of the sad end of his n.o.ble owner.
”Will it not be best to get the general down to Scutari?” she asked the doctor.