CHAPTER ELEVEN.
"My poor darling child!--Lie still, you miserable hound, or I'll halfstrangle you."
The words--tender and gentle as if it were a woman's voice, fierce andloud as from an enraged man--seemed to come out of a thick mist in whichKate felt as if she were sick unto death. Then by degrees she grewconscious that she was being held tightly to the breast of of some onewho was breathing hard from exertion, and tenderly stroking andsmoothing her dishevelled hair.
The next moment there was a wild cry, and she recognised her aunt'svoice, as, giddy and exhausted, she clung to him who held her.
"What is it? What is it? Oh, Claud, my darling! Help, help, help!He's killed him--killed."
"Here, what's the matter? Who called?" came from a little distance.Then from close at hand Kate heard her uncle's voice through the mist."What's all this, Maria--John Garstang--Claud? Damn it all, can no onespeak?--Kate, what is it?"
"This," cried Garstang, sternly. "I came back just now, and hearingshrieks rushed in here, just in time to save this poor, weak, sufferingchild from the brutal insulting attack of that young ruffian."
"He has killed him. James--he has killed him," shrieked Mrs Wilton."On, my poor dear darling boy!"
"Back, all of you. Be off," roared Wilton, as half a dozen servantscame crowding to the door, which he slammed in their faces, and turnedthe key. "Now, please let's have the truth," he cried, hotly. "Here,Kate, my dear; come to me."
She made no reply, but Garstang felt her cling more closely to him.
"Will some one speak?" cried Wilton, again.
"The Doctor--send for the Doctor; he's dead, he's dead," wailed MrsWilton, who was down upon her knees now, holding her son's head in herlap; while save for a slight quiver of the muscles, indicative of aneffort to keep his eyes closed, Claud made no sign.
"He is not dead," said Garstang, coldly; "a knockdown blow would notkill a ruffian of his calibre."
"Oh," exclaimed Mrs Wilton, turning upon him now in her maternal fury;"he owns to it, he struck him down--my poor, poor boy. James, why don'tyou send for the police at once? The cruelty--the horror of it! Kate,Kate, my dear, come away from the wretch at once."
"Then you own that you struck him down?" cried Wilton, whose face wasnow black with a passion which made him send prudence to the winds, ashe rose in revolt against one who had long been his master.
"Yes," said Garstang, quietly, and without a trace of anger, though histone was full of contempt; "I told you why."
"Yes, and by what right did you interfere? Some foolish rompingconnected with a boy and girl love, I suppose. How dared youinterfere?"
"Boy and girl love!" cried Garstang, scornfully, as he laid one handupon Kate's head and pressed it to his shoulder, where she nestled andhid her face. "Shame upon you both; it was scandalous!"
"Shame upon us? What do you mean, sir? What do you mean?--Will youcome away from him, Kate?"
"I mean this," said Garstang, with his arm firmly round the poor girl'swaist, "that you and your wife have failed utterly in your dutiestowards this poor suffering child."
"It isn't true," cried Mrs Wilton. "We've treated her as if she wereour own daughter; and my poor boy told me how he loved her, and he hadonly just come to talk to her for a bit. Oh, Claud, my darling! myprecious boy!"
"Did I not tell you that your darling--your precious boy--was insultingher grievously? Shame upon you, woman," cried Garstang. "It needed nowords of mine to explain what had taken place. Your own woman's natureought to have revolted against such an outrage to the weak invalidplaced by her poor father's will in your care."
"Don't you speak to my wife like that!" cried Wilton, angrily.
"I will speak to your wife like that, and to you as well. I forbore tospeak before: I had no right; but do you think I have been blind to thescandal going on here? The will gives you full charge of the poor childand her fortune, and what do I find when I come down? A dastardly cruelplot to ensnare her--to force on a union with an unmannerly, brutallycoarse young ruffian, that he may--that you may, for your own needs andends, lawfully gain possession of the fortune, to scatter to the winds."
"It's a lie--it's a lie!" roared Wilton.
"It is the truth, sir. Your wife's words just now confirmed what I hadnoted over and over again, till my very gorge rose at being compelled toaccept the hospitality of such people, while I writhed at my ownimpotence, my helplessness when I wished to interfere. You know--sheknows--how I have kept silence. Not one word of warning have I utteredto her. She must have seen and felt what was being hatched, but neithershe nor I could have realised that the cowardly young ruffian lyingthere would have dared to insult a weak gentle girl whose very aspectclaimed a man's respect and protection. A lie? It is the truth, JamesWilton."
"Oh, my poor, poor boy!" wailed Mrs Wilton; "and I did beg and pray ofyou not to be too rash."
"Will you hold your tongue, woman?" roared Wilton.
"Yes, for heaven's sake be silent, madam," cried Garstang; "there was noneed for you to indorse my words, and lower yourself more in your poorniece's eyes."
"Look here," cried Wilton, who was going to and fro beyond the librarytable, writhing under the lash of his solicitor's tongue; "it's all abit of nonsense; the foolish fellow snatched a kiss, I suppose."
"Snatched a kiss!" cried Garstang, scornfully. "Look at her: quiveringwith horror and indignation."
"I won't look at her. I won't be talked to like this in my own house."
"Your own house!" said Garstang, contemptuously.
"Yes, sir; mine till the law forces me to give it up. I won't have it.It's my house, and I won't stand here and be bullied by any man."
"Oh, don't, don't, don't make things worse, James," wailed Mrs Wilton."Send for the Doctor; his heart is beating still."
"You hold your tongue, and don't you make things worse," roared herhusband. "As for him--curse him!--it's all his doing."
"But he's lying here insensible, and you won't send for help."
"No, I won't. Do you think I want Leigh and his sister, and then thewhole parish, to know what has been going on? The servants will talkenough."
"But he's dying, James."
"You said he was dead just now. Chuck some cold water over the idiot,and bring him to. Damn him! I should like to horsewhip him!"
"You should have done it often, years ago," said Garstang, bitterly."It is too late now."
"You mind your own business," shouted Wilton, turning upon him; "I can'ttalk like you do, but I can say what I mean, and it's this: I'm masterhere yet, and I'll stand no more of it. I don't care for your deeds anddocuments. I won't have you here to insult me and my wife, and what'smore, if you've done that boy a mischief we'll see what the law can do.You shall suffer as well as I. Now then: off with you; pack and go, andI'll show you that the law protects me as well as you. Kate, my girl,you've nothing to be frightened about. Come to me here."
She clung the more tightly to her protector.
"Then come to your aunt," said Wilton, fiercely. "Get up, Maria," heshouted. "Can't you see I want you here?"
"Get up? Oh, James, James, I can't leave my boy."
"Get up, before you put me in a rage," he yelled. "Now, then, Kate,come here; and I tell you this, John Garstang. I give you a quarter ofan hour, and if you're not gone then, the men shall throw you out."
"What!" cried Garstang, sternly, as he drew himself up. "Go and leavethis poor girl here to your tender mercies?"
"Yes, sir; go and leave `this poor girl,' as you call her, to my tendermercies."
"I can not; I will not," said Garstang, firmly.
"But I say you shall, Mr Lawyer. You know enough of such things tofeel that you must. Curse you and your interference. Kate, my dear, Iam your poor dead father's executor, and your guardian."
"Yes, it is true," said Garstang, bitterly. "Poor fellow, it was theone mistake of a good, true life. He had faith in his brother."
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bsp; "More than he had in you," cried Wilton. "Do you hear what I say, Kate?Don't visit upon your aunt and me the stupid folly of that boy, whosesin is that he is very fond of you, and frightened you by a bit ofloving play."
"Loving play!" cried Garstang, scornfully.
"Yes, my dear, loving play. I vouch for it, and so will his mother."
"Yes, yes, yes, Kate, dear. He does love you. He told me so, and if hedid wrong, poor, poor boy, see how he has been punished."
"There, my dear, you hear," cried Wilton, trying hard to speak gentlyand winningly to her, but failing dismally. "Come to your aunt now."
"Yes, Kate, darling, do, do please, and help me to try and bring himround. You don't want to see him lie a corpse at his sorrowing mother'sfeet?"
"Come here, Kate," cried Wilton, fiercely now. "Don't you make meangry. I am your guardian, and you must obey me. Come away from thatman."
She shuddered, and began to sob now violently.
"Ah, that's better. You're coming to your senses now, and seeing thingsin their proper light. Now, John Garstang, you heard what I said--go."
"Yes, my child," said Garstang, taking one of Kate's hands, and raisingit tenderly to his lips, "your uncle is right. I have no place here, noright to protect you, and I must go, trusting that good may come out ofevil, and that what has passed, besides opening your eyes to what is athorough conspiracy, will give you firmness to protect yourself, andteach them that such a project as theirs is an infamy."
"Don't stand preaching there, man. Your time's nearly up. Go, beforeyou are made. Come here to your aunt, Kate."
"No, my dear, do nothing of the sort," said Garstang, gently, as sheslowly raised her head and gazed imploringly in his face. "You are buta girl, but you must play the woman now--the firm, strong woman who hasto protect herself. Go up to your room and insist upon staying thereuntil you have a guarantee that this insolent cub, who is lying herepretending to be insensible, shall cease his pretensions or be sentaway. There, go, and heaven protect you; I can do no more."
Kate drew herself up erect and gazed at him mournfully for a fewmoments, and then said firmly:
"Yes, Mr Garstang, I will do as you say. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," he said, as he bent down and softly kissed her forehead.Then she walked firmly from the room.
"Brave girl!" said Garstang; "she will be a match for you and your plansnow, James Wilton."
"Will you go, sir?" roared the other.
"Yes, I will go. Then it is to be war between us, is it?"
"What you like; I'm reckless now; but you can't interfere with methere."
"No, and I will not trample upon a worm when it is down. I shall takeno petty revenge, and you dare not persecute that poor girl. Good-byeto you both, and may this be a lesson to you and your foolish wife. Asfor you, you cur, if I hear that you have insulted your cousin again--agirl that any one with the slightest pretension to being a man wouldhave looked upon as a sister--law or no law, I'll come down and thrashyou within an inch of your life. I'm a strong man yet, as you know."
He turned and walked proudly out of the room; and as soon as his stephad ceased to ring on the oaken floor of the hall Wilton turned savagelyupon his son, where he lay upon the thick Turkey carpet, and roared:
"Get up!"
Mrs Wilton shrieked and caught at her husband's leg, but in vain, forhe delivered a tremendous kick at the prostrate youth, which brought himto his senses with a yell.
"What are you doing?" he roared.
"A hundred and fifty thousand pounds!" cried Wilton. "Curse you, Ishould like to give you a hundred and fifty thousand of those."
Within half an hour the dog-cart bearing John Garstang and hisportmanteau was grating over the gravel of the drive, and as he passedthe further wing he looked up at an open window where Kate was standingpale and still.
He raised his hat to her as he passed, but she did not stir, only saidfarewell to him with her eyes.
But as the vehicle disappeared among the trees of the avenue she shrankaway, to stand thinking of her position, of Garstang's words, and how itseemed now that her girlish life had come to an end that day. For shefelt that she was alone, and that henceforth she must knit herselftogether to fight the battle of her life, strong in her womanly defence,for her future depended entirely upon herself.
And through the rest of that unhappy afternoon and evening, as she satthere, resisting all requests to come down, and taking nothing but someslight refreshment brought up by her maid, she was trying to solve theproblem constantly before her:
What should she do now?
Cursed by a Fortune Page 11
