Part 23 (1/2)
”Which Princess are you meanin', captain?” asked Mike Connell. ”Sure it seems to me there's two of them.”
”Have a care, Connell,” said Peveril, warningly. ”Remember the circ.u.mstances under which we are here.”
”I beg your pardon, Mister Peril,” exclaimed the Irishman, contritely; ”I'd near forgot that you was already bespoke.”
A hot flush sprang to the young man's cheek, but ere he could frame a reply Major Arkell reappeared, looking greatly worried.
”Boys,” he said, ”we've a very serious case on our hands, and one that demands immediate action. The old man up-stairs is fairly out of his head, besides being in a high fever. He needs medical attendance as quickly as it can be got to him, and careful nursing. I have given him an opiate, which I hope will keep him quiet for a while, and now I propose to go to Red Jacket in the tug for a doctor and a nurse.
Captain Spillins will, of course, go with me, and we shall try to be back by morning. In the meantime the poor young lady must not be left alone, or with only that old aunty, who is nearly frightened out of her wits, and so I think you, Peveril, ought to stay here with Connell and do what you can. You are, in a sense, the proprietor here, you know, and as Connell has also been here before, maybe the old man will be more reasonable with you than he would be with entire strangers.”
”I quite agree with you that some of us ought to stay here and do what we can,” said Peveril; ”and, under the circ.u.mstances, I suppose Connell and I are the ones to do so. At the same time, I haven't had much experience in caring for madmen.”
”No more have I,” said Connell, ”but I'll do me best, for sake of the young lady, and maybe she'll forgive me for treating her the same as I would a lad.”
”And, major,” added Peveril, ”if you will kindly fetch my luggage from the Trefethen's I shall be greatly obliged.”
So the party separated; and, while two of them wended their way back to the tug at Laughing Fish, the others prepared for the long vigil of the night.
After the effect of the opiate had pa.s.sed, their patient was seized with paroxysms of raving and frantic efforts to leave his bed for the purpose of protecting his property. At such times it required the united efforts of the two volunteer nurses to restrain him, and after each attack he was left weak and helpless as an infant. Then he would weep, and beg piteously not to be abandoned to the mercy of his enemies; or he would fancy himself still in the awful blackness of the ancient workings, and plead with his attendants not to be left thereto die.
”For the sake of my daughter, gentlemen--my only child--who has no one else in the world to love her or care for her, I beg of you to save me. If you are human, take pity on her and let me go!” he would cry.
At such times no voice, not even Mary's, seemed to soothe him as did that of Peveril, and his most violent struggles were controlled by the gentle firmness of the young athlete.
All through that dreadful night Mary Darrell watched Peveril with tear-filled eyes, wondering at his strength and gentleness, and unconsciously loving him for them. Not that she would for an instant have admitted such a thing even to herself. She tried instead to believe that he was the cause of all this sorrow, and that she hated him for it. ”In whatever he does,” she said to herself, ”he is actuated by remorse, and a desire to atone in some way for ruining my father's life.”
The anxiously awaited dawn found Ralph Darrell lying quietly with closed eyes and Peveril keeping wakeful watch beside him. Aunty Nimmo had been sent to her bed long since, and Connell was fast asleep on the floor of the hall just outside the sick-room door. Mary Darrell sat in an easy-chair, overcome by exhaustion, also sleeping lightly.
As the growing light fell on her tear-stained face, crowned by a wealth of close-clipped hair curling in tiny ringlets, Peveril looked at her curiously, and wondered why he had never thought her beautiful until that moment. Apparently conscious of the young man's gaze, the girl suddenly opened her eyes, and a faint flush suffused her pale cheeks. Ere either she or Peveril could speak, the m.u.f.fled sound of a steam-whistle broke the morning stillness.
”Our friends have come, Miss Darrell,” whispered the watcher. ”You have just time to go to your room and refresh yourself with a dash of cold water before they appear.”
Nodding a.s.sent, the girl accepted the suggestion and departed.
Then Peveril sent Connell to meet the new-comers, who, as he knew, would steam directly into the land-locked basin, and remained to finish his vigil alone.
Suddenly, as he sat absorbed in meditation, the madman, who had been watching through half-closed eyes, sprang upon him without a sound of warning and clutched his throat with a vise-like grip.
Not even the utmost exertion of Peveril's splendid strength served to loose that horrid hold. In silence he fought for his life, until he grew black in the face and his eyes started from their sockets. His head seemed on the point of bursting. He reeled, staggered, and then, together with his terrible a.s.sailant, fell heavily to the floor. As they did so, the old man's head struck on a sharp corner; he uttered a moan, and at last the deadly clutch on Peveril's throat was relaxed.
With his next moment of consciousness Peveril was sitting on the floor gasping for breath, and Ralph Darrell lay motionless beside him in a pool of blood. Then came quick steps on the stair, and Mary Darrell, accompanied by Major Arkell and the doctor from Red Jacket, entered the room.
For an instant the girl stared horror-stricken at the scene before her. Then she darted forward and clasped her father's body in her arms, crying out as she did so:
”You have killed him, Richard Peveril!--killed an old man, sick and helpless; robbed him of his all, and then murdered him! Oh, papa!--dear, dear papa! Why did I leave you for a single minute?”
”My! How she hates poor Mr. Peril!” whispered Nelly Trefethen, who had come to act as nurse, and who, guided by Mike Connell, reached the doorway in time to witness the tableau, as well as to hear Mary Darrell's cruel words.
CHAPTER XXVIII