by W. W. Jacobs
CHAPTER XXII--_Blind Man's Bluff_
The station-master had just appeared on the platform in readiness forthe train when the half-dozen waiting passengers began to dance wildlyand run to and fro.
"Hi! Fire!" yelled a man in corduroys. "Station's afire!"
"Where?" cried the station-master. "What the----"
"It's the cloak-room!" yelled Joe, the porter. "That chap----"
"Get the key--quick!"
"Fire!" yelled the man in corduroys.
"Fire!" roared a ploughboy and a man with a gun.
The station-master ran up to the door, thumped at it, and shouted,while the porter, who had doubled along the platform and back again,cried, "Open the door!"
"Where's the key?" roared the station-master. "Gimme the key!"
"Get the key!" yelled the man in corduroys.
"Key, key! Fire!" shouted the ploughboy and the man with the gun.
"You've got it!" cried the porter. "You didn't gimme----"
"I gave it you!" shouted the station-master, dancing and waving hisarms.
"You didn't!"
"Water!" yelled the man in corduroys.
"Water, water!" shouted the ploughboy and the man with the gun.
A blue haze of smoke hovered over the platform as the London train ranin, and in two minutes the driver and stoker, guards, and a score ofpassengers joined the excited crowd. From every carriage headsappeared, and a medley of voices said--
"It's a fire!"
"I've got it!" said the voice of the station-master, huskily, as herushed forward in his shirt-sleeves and fumbled at the lock of thecloak-room.
"Stand back there!" cried the man in corduroys, as Joe ran up sloppingtwo pails of water over the feet of the passengers, followed by theploughboy and the man without his gun slopping two more each.
"Stand back!" yelled a dozen voices.
The lock turned, the doors flew open and out came a cloud of smoke.With it came George Early, just in time to miss a deluge. Two ladypassengers got their feet wet and shrieked, and no fewer than six menswore volubly in the approved custom of their own locality.
George, being about the only one inclined to leave the fire to takecare of itself, immediately, under cover of the smoke, made for thestation exit.
His object was to get safely out of sight and leave no clue to hiswhereabouts.
The station stood in an isolated position a good two miles from thenearest village, and George Early's only avenue of escape was a narrowroad bordered by high hedges. He looked round quickly, just as a youth,attracted by the commotion, left his bicycle and hurried on to theplatform. Without hesitation the fugitive borrowed the machine, andwent off down the road at top speed. Halfway he turned to see howmatters were progressing in the rear, and descried three figuresfollowing at a rapid pace on foot. George didn't need to look twice tosee who they were.
At the first bend of the road he swung the bicycle over a hedge andabandoned it. Turning off at a right angle he ran along under cover ofanother hedge bordering a meadow, and was just about to congratulatehimself on having eluded his pursuers, when a shout of discovery wentup.
Off went George again, over a smooth green towards a clump of trees.Loud cries now sounded in the rear, and the fugitive, turning todiscover the cause of them, saw the three men wildly gesticulating. Hehesitated a moment, but as they still followed he started off again.The cause of the row was now apparent: his pursuers were signalling tosome men in the fields ahead of him to bar his passage. It was evidentthat they meant to do so from the way they began to form a ring.
"I'm surrounded," thought George, slowing down. He looked about him fora last chance, and swore at his slender opportunities. Nothingpresented itself but a tall old oak.
To be surrounded and taken like a runaway convict was too galling;George made for the tree and prepared to climb. His breath was nearlydone, but he easily reached the lower branches, and by the time a ringof twenty men had reached the vicinity, was able to pull himself nearlyto the top.
"What's he done?" asked a farm labourer, as Gray and his colleagues ina profuse state of perspiration joined the group.
"We're after him," said Busby.
"You needn't tell us that, mate," said another man. "What do yer wanthim for?"
"Set fire to the railway station," said Gray.
"Liar!" came a voice from the clouds.
"Go up after him," said Parrott, pushing Busby forward.
"Let Jimmy go," said Busby.
"Keep 'em off," said George. "They're after my money!"
Gray came forward promptly and said, "A sovereign for the first man whofetches him down!"
"Two pound each to the men who hold 'em while I get away," yelledGeorge.
A faint cheer from the labourers. "Look here," cried Gray; "he can'tpay you! I'll give five pounds to the man who brings him down."
George booed and dropped a branch on Gray's head. "I'm after themquids," said a strapping farm-hand, throwing off his coat andclambering up the tree.
"Pull him down!" cried George. "You'll all get in gaol for this ifyou're not careful."
Another man followed the first one, and a third followed the second.
"Five pound to the one who gets him," yelled Gray, encouragingly.
George tore off a branch and hit out at the first man as he came withinreach. The man grew angry and grabbed at George's leg. Missing it, heclutched at the tree, and received a boot on his fingers. The howl thatfollowed unnerved the third man, who descended in haste on to Parrott'sshoulders.
George now climbed out to the end of a branch and worried the man thatwas overhauling him.
"You'll get six months for this," he said in a terrible voice.
"Come on," said the man, "you'd better give in. I've got you fair."
"Come a bit further," said George, now on the end of the branch.
The second man, who had been manoeuvring by a different route, nowappeared and made a grab at George's collar. The first man, fearful oflosing his prize, did the same. George clutched at both, and the nextmoment, with a mighty crack, the branch gave way, and the three wenttumbling down through the lower branches.
The first man picked himself up and rubbed his leg; the second manswore, gazed ruefully at a tear in his trousers, and sucked a bleedingthumb; George lay quite still.
The three men from Fairbrothers' ran forward.
"Here you are!" said one of the labourers. "Now, where's the fivepound?"
"Hold on!" said the second man. "We brought him down together! That'shalf each!"
Gray looked down at the still form of his late master and turned white.George was lying just as he had fallen, with blood trickling from ascratch across the forehead.
"You've done something now!" said Gray. "You've killed him!"
"What!" said the first man in a whisper.
"He's done for!" said Gray, anxious to avoid paying now that affairshad taken a serious turn.
Number Two gave one look at George, then edged out of the crowd andbolted.
"It seems to me," said a man with black whiskers, "that it's youfellows who've done this chap to death, hunting him like a wild beast,and then trying to put the blame on to honest working men."
The crowd murmured approval at this speech, and Gray knelt down andtried to rouse Mrs. Early's husband.
"He's breathing!" he said. "Fetch some water!"
"Can't get no water here," said Black Whiskers. "Better take him downthe village afore he pegs out."
"Take him down to the village," chimed in the others.
The ex-legatees, being in the minority, and not knowing what else todo, assisted in carrying George as directed. Three of the menaccompanied them, the others returning to their work.
The procession moved slowly, and eventually came in sight of ared-brick house.
"That's the parson's," said one of the men. "We'll take him there; he'sa bit of a doctor."
The parson received the insensible man graciously, and heard the story
of the accident. George was carried into the library and laid on asofa, and after a brief examination the parson said he believed thecase was not very serious, but that the patient must remain where hewas for the present.
"You are staying in the village?" he said, looking somewhatunfavourably at Gray and his companions.
"We're not," said Gray. "But we shall stay now to hear how he gets on."
"Very well," said the clergyman. "I shall be pleased to give youinformation of his progress. Meanwhile, you need not consult a doctor.I think I can manage the case."
The vicar was one of those men with a smattering of medical knowledge,insufficient to enable him to cure anybody, but sufficient to give hima wild anxiety to want to. He shut the door softly on the three men andreturned to the library.
"Strange!" he muttered. "I can find no symptoms of this man having hada heavy blow, and the state of unconsciousness is different from theordinary."
"Perhaps it's shock, pa," said his daughter, who had ventured to take alook at George.
"True. Very likely. Perhaps you are right, my dear."
He felt George's pulse and examined the scratch on his forehead, whichwas clearly but a trivial hurt.
"Perhaps you are right, my dear. But come along. I'll get you to godown to the town for me and get a prescription made up."
As they left the library George's right eyelid flickered slightly, astheir footsteps echoed down the passage the lid began to open, and bythe time all sound of them had ceased it was lifted to its fullestextent. The left eyelid followed the right one, and George Early laywith both eyes open. Then his head moved slowly, and his eyes havingcautiously surveyed the room, his features broke into a broad smile.
Whether or not George's tongue would have begun to wag will never beknown, for at that moment footsteps sounded outside the door, and thevicar entered. He found the patient as he had left him.
"He's coming to, I think; there seems to have been a slight movement,"he murmured.
George's face twitched, and he uttered a faint--a very faint--groan.
"Ah!" said the vicar, as if it was the pleasantest sound in the world,"I thought so--I thought so!"
By the time that the vicar's daughter returned George was fullyconscious, but evidently still suffering from shock.
"I won't use that now, my dear," said her father. "I think we caneffect a cure by simpler methods. Do you feel any pain?" he said toGeorge.
There was no response, and George appeared to be unconscious that anyone was speaking.
"He doesn't hear you, pa," said the vicar's daughter.
"Do you feel any pain?" said the parson in a mild shout.
There was no response.
"His hearing's affected by the shock," said the vicar, wisely. "I'veknown such cases, though they are rare."
He motioned to George to attract his attention, and repeated thequestion. George looked in a scared sort of way, and put his hand tohis ear. The vicar shouted loudly, then louder still.
George shook his head, and made a feeble motion for the question to bewritten down.
"It's as I thought," said the vicar to his daughter that evening. "Thesudden shock has brought on complete deafness and a temporary paralysisof the faculties. He must stay here to-night, and we shall see how hehas progressed to-morrow."
"Will his friends in the village take him away, papa?"
"I don't think so. He has intimated to me that they are undesirablemen, and my private opinion is that they are up to no good. I'vewritten to the address of a doctor friend of his, who will come downto-morrow, and with whom I shall be interested to discuss thepeculiarities of the case. It is a most singular occurrence."
"Very, pa," said his daughter.
On the morrow George was in much the same state as previously, so faras hearing was concerned; his sight also appeared to be affected. Thefall had not, however, in any way injured his appetite, for he managedto eat a hearty breakfast. The vicar nodded his head, and said that hehad known such cases before; it was as he thought. To the inquiries ofGray and the others he sent word that the invalid was progressingfavourably, but could not converse with visitors.
George's friend, the doctor, arrived about midday. He proved to be oneJohn Cattermole, a Walworth chemist, to whom George, in his clerkingdays, had applied occasionally for relief in bodily ailments, and veryfrequently for assistance in pecuniary difficulties. In the hour ofprosperity George had not forgotten Cattermole, and now, when the tideof fortune had turned against him, he knew that his call for help wouldbe answered. The friendly chemist arrived hot and dusty, in a frockcoat and silk hat much the worse for wear.
"A clever man," thought the parson; "has the utter disregard ofappearances common to genius."
He greeted him warmly.
"You will agree with me, I think, that it is a most remarkableoccurrence," said the vicar, when they eventually visited George, whosat in the library staring at a bookcase.
"I do," said Cattermole, laconically.
The vicar continued to pour forth his opinions, and relate instances ofcases he had known, during which harangue George managed to apprise hisfriend of the state of affairs by a most unmistakable wink. Being thusinformed, Cattermole became more amiable, and begged a privateinterview with the patient for a special examination.
"I think he will agree with me, my dear," said the vicar to hisdaughter; "he is one of the most enlightened men I have ever met, andone of the few who seemed to attach any weight to my opinion."
"He didn't say much, pa."
"It is not what he said, my dear; it's the way he looked and listened.You don't understand clever men as I do."
A quarter of an hour elapsed, and Cattermole left the library.
"It is shock," he said quietly.
"As I thought," said the vicar.
"Exactly," said the other; "you have treated the case perfectly."
"My dear sir----"
"I mean it," said Cattermole, smiling. "Now I wonder if you couldsupply me with some bandages? And perhaps you have such a thing as agreen shade for the eyes. Both hearing and sight are affected, butthere is no danger in travelling. We shall return to town immediately."
"My dear sir, I have all you require. And you must allow me--I insiston ordering the carriage for you."
When George Early emerged from the parsonage to enter the carriage hishead was enveloped in bandages, covered by a black silk neck-cloth. Agreen shade covered his eyes. The shock had evidently affected hislimbs also, for he moved very slowly, supported on one side by thevicar, and on the other by Cattermole.
Both accompanied him to the station, and it was perhaps due to thegrave nature of the report that morning that they performed the journeywithout interruption from the discharged trio. Those worthies, onhearing later that George had left, abused the parson shamefully, andpointed out to the station-master that such a dunderhead as himselfought not to be allowed on any station down the line.
The sight of George and his bandages had stopped the station-master'stongue; and while he described the fire scare, and how it proved to benothing, to the vicar, he kept the story of the prisoner's misdeeds inthe cloak-room, and the heavy claim for damages he should preferagainst him, to himself. Seeing how friendly the vicar was with theyoung man, it was not his business to injure himself by interfering.The company would claim in due course.
George and his doctor friend went off in a first-class carriage,accompanied by the hearty wishes of the vicar. That worthy man graspedGeorge's inanimate hand, and shook it warmly, exchanged a few pregnantremarks with Cattermole, and waved a good-bye with his handkerchief.Even Joe and the station-master touched their hats as the traindeparted.
The conspirators allowed themselves to get well out of hearing, andthen George pulled off the green shade and roared. Cattermole took itup, and roared too.
