CHAPTER XXII
THE CITY OF REFUGE
The moment Lucas Errol's hand closed upon hers it was to Anne as if animmense and suffocating weight had been lifted from her, and with it allher remaining strength crumbled away as if her burden alone hadsustained her.
She looked at him, meeting the kind, searching eyes without effort,trying piteously to speak, but her white lips only moved soundlessly, herthroat seemed paralysed.
"Her ladyship has had a shock, sir," explained Dimsdale.
"Won't you sit down?" said Lucas gently. In a moment she found herselfsitting on a sofa with this stanch friend of hers beside her, holding herhand. A few words passed between him and Dimsdale, which she scarcelyheard and was too weak to comprehend, and then they were alone together,she and Lucas in a silence she felt powerless to break.
"You mustn't mind me, Lady Carfax," he said. "I know what you have comethrough. I understand."
Dimly she heard the words, but she could not respond to them. Shewas shivering, shivering with a violence that she was utterly unableto repress.
He did not speak again till Dimsdale came back with a tray, then again heexchanged a few murmured sentences with the old butler, who presentlysaid, "Very good, sir," and went softly away.
Then Lucas turned again to Anne. "Drink this," he said. "It willrevive you."
She groped for the glass he held towards her, but trembled so much thatshe could not take it.
"Let me," he said, and put it himself to her lips.
She drank slowly, shuddering, her teeth chattering against the glass.
"Lay your head down upon the cushion," he said then, "and shut your eyes.You will be better soon."
"You--you won't go?" she managed to whisper.
"Why, no," he said. "It's for your sake I've come. I guess I'm a fixturefor so long as you want me."
She breathed a sigh of relief and lay back.
A long time passed. Anne lay motionless with closed eyes, too crushed forthought. And Lucas Errol watched beside her, grave and patient and still.
Suddenly there came a sound, piercing the silence, a sound that made Annestart upright in wild terror.
"What is it? What is it?"
Instantly and reassuringly Lucas's hand clasped hers. "Don't be afraid!"he said. "They are moving him to another room, that's all."
She sank back, shuddering, her face hidden. The sound continued, seemingto come nearer--the sound of a man's voice shrieking horribly for help,in piercing accents of terror that might have come from atorture-chamber. Suddenly the yells became articulate, resolved intowords: "Anne! Anne! Anne!" in terrible crescendo.
She sprang up with a sharp cry.
But on the instant the man beside her spoke. "Anne, you are not to go."
She paused irresolute. "I must! I must! He is calling me!"
"You are not to go," he reiterated, and for the first time she heard thedominant note in his voice. "Come here, child! Come close to me! It willsoon be over."
Her irresolution passed like a cloud. She looked down, saw his blue eyesshining straight up at her, kind still, but compelling. And she droppedupon her knees beside him and hid her face upon his shoulder, with thecry of, "Help me! Help me! I can't bear it!"
He folded his arms about her as though he had been a woman, andheld her fast.
Long after the awful sounds had died away Anne knelt there, sobbing,utterly unstrung, all her pride laid low, herself no more than a broken,agonised woman. But gradually, from sheer exhaustion, her sobs becameless anguished, till at length they ceased. A strange peace, whollyunaccountable, fell gently upon her torn spirit. But even then it waslong before she moved. She felt an overwhelming reluctance to withdrawherself from the shelter of those quiet arms.
"What must you think of me?" she whispered at last, her face stillhidden.
"My dear," he said, "I understand."
He did not offer to release her, but as she moved she found herself free,she found herself able to look into his face.
"I shall never forget your goodness to me," she said very earnestly.
He smiled a little, after a fashion she did not wholly comprehend. "Mydear Lady Carfax! You underrate friendship when you say a thing likethat. Sit down, won't you? And let me tell you what brought me here."
"Nap told you--" she hazarded.
"Yes, Nap told me. And I decided I had better come at once. I wasn't inwhen he got back, or I should have been here sooner. I saw there had beena gross misunderstanding, and I hoped I should be able to get yourhusband to take a reasonable view."
"Ah!" she said, with a shiver. "I--I'm thankful you didn't meet."
"I am sorry," Lucas said quietly. And though he said no more, she knewthat he was thinking of her.
"How is Nap?" she ventured hesitatingly.
"Nap," he said with deliberation, "will be himself again in a very fewweeks. You need have no anxiety for him."
Again she did not wholly understand his tone. She glanced at himnervously, half afraid that he was keeping something from her.
"You really mean that?"
His eyes met hers, very level and direct. "He is badly battered, ofcourse. But--he is not quite like other men. He has no nerves to speak ofin a physical sense. He will make a quick recovery. Broken bones meanvery little to a man of his calibre."
She heard him with relief mingled with a faint wonder at his confidenceon this point.
"The doctor has seen him?" she asked.
"Yes; and I have sent my man in the motor to ask him to come on here."
She shivered again irrepressibly. "Giles hates Dr. Randal."
"I do not think that will make any difference," Lucas said gently.
Thereafter they sat together almost in silence, till the buzzing of themotor told of the doctor's arrival. Then with the aid of a stick Lucasbegan to drag himself laboriously to his feet. Anne rose to help him.
He took her arm, looking at her shrewdly.
"Lady Carfax, will you let me speak to him alone?"
"If you wish it," she said.
"I do wish it." His eyes passed hers suddenly and rested upon the lace ather neck. In one place it was torn, and the soft flesh was revealed;revealed also was a long red stripe, swollen and turning. In an instanthis glance fell, but she saw his brows contract as if at a sharp twingeof pain. "I do wish it," he said again very gently. "P'r'aps you willwait for me here."
And with that he relinquished her arm, and made his halting, difficultway across the room to the door.
Anne sat down before the fire to wait. She had, to a large extent,recovered her self-control, but a deadly weariness was upon her which shefound it impossible to shake off. She kept it at bay for a time while shelistened for any sound. But no sound came, and at length exhausted natureprevailed.
When Lucas came back she was sunk in her chair asleep.
He took up his stand near her while he waited for the doctor, and againthat deep furrow showed between his brows. But the eyes that watched herwere soft and tender as a woman's. There was something almost maternal intheir regard, a compassion so deep as to be utterly unconscious ofitself. When the doctor's step sounded at length outside he shuffled awaywithout disturbing her.
It was hours later when Anne awoke and sat up with a confused sense ofsomething wrong. She was still in her easy-chair before the fire, whichburned brightly as ever, while on the other side of the hearth, proppedupright upon cushions and watching her with those steady blue eyes, whosekindness never varied, was Lucas Errol.
He spoke to her at once, very softly and gently, as if she hadbeen a child.
"I'm real pleased you've had a sleep. You needed it. Don't look sostartled. It's all right--a little late, but that's nothing. Dimsdaleand I agreed that it would be a pity to disturb you. So we let you sleepon. And he brought in a tray of refreshments to fortify you when youawoke. He's a thoughtful old chap, Lady Carfax. You're lucky to havesuch a servant."
But Anne scarcely heard him. She was staring at the cl
ock in amazement.It was half-past three! Just twelve hours since--She repressed aviolent shudder.
"Don't be shocked any!" besought Lucas in his easy drawl. "I'm oftenawake at this hour. I guessed you wouldn't sleep if we woke you to go toyour room, and I didn't quite like the thought of being down here out ofreach. You are not vexed with me, I hope?"
"No," she said. "I am not vexed."
But she looked at him very strangely, as if that were not all shedesired to say.
"Dimsdale has been in and out," he said, "keeping the fire going. He andone of the others are watching upstairs. But all is quiet there. SirGiles has been asleep ever since the doctor left."
Anne got up slowly. "You look very uncomfortable," she said.
He smiled up at her. "My dear Lady Carfax, I am all right. The advantageof this position is that one can rise at a moment's notice."
As if to demonstrate the truth of this he rose, but not withoutconsiderable effort.
"Ah, please don't!" she said, putting out a quick, restraining hand. "Ithurts me to see you suffer on my account. It was too kind of you--muchtoo kind--to stay with me like this. You will never know how much youhave helped me, and I thank you for it with all my heart. Now please sitdown again, and let me wait upon you for a change. Have you had anythingto eat or drink?"
He sat down again, looking quizzical. "I have been waiting for my hostessto join me," he said.
"Do you ever think of yourself at all?" she asked, turning aside to thetray that Dimsdale's consideration had provided.
"A great deal more often than you imagine," smiled Lucas. "Must youreally do the waiting? It's very bad for me, you know."
He joked with her gently through the light repast that followed. Andthough she scarcely responded, she let him see her gratitude.
Finally, he laid aside all pretence of humour and spoke to her veryquietly and gravely of her husband. The doctor thought it advisable toremove him from the Manor with as little delay as possible. He wouldconsult her about it in the morning. His brain was without doubt veryseriously affected, and it might take some months to recover. It wasessential that he should be taken away from familiar surroundings andpeople whom he knew.
Anne listened with a whitening face. She asked no questions. Lucassupplied every detail with the precision that characterised most of hisutterances. Finally he spoke of her position, advised her strongly toemploy an agent for the estate, and promised his help in this or anyother matter in which she might care to avail herself of it.
He seemed to take it for granted that she would remain at the head ofaffairs, and it gradually dawned upon Anne that she could not well dootherwise. Her presence for a time at least seemed indispensable. Theresponsibility had become hers and she could not at that stage shake itoff. Her dream of freedom was over. Of what the future might hold for hershe could not even begin to think. But the present was very clearlydefined. It remained only for her to "do the work that was nearest" asbravely as she might.
When Lucas ended she leaned forward and gave him her hand. "I wonderwhat I should have done without you," she said. "I believe I shouldhave gone mad too."
"No, no, Lady Carfax!"
She smiled faintly; the tears were standing in her eyes. "Yes, I know.You don't like to be thanked. But you have been like a mother to me in mytrouble, and--I shall always remember it."
The blue eyes began to twinkle humorously. The hand that held hers closedwith a very friendly pressure.
"Well," drawled the kindly American voice, "I'll be shot if thatisn't the kindest thing that anyone ever said to me. And I believeyou meant it too."
"Yes, I meant it," Anne said.
And though she smiled also there was genuine feeling in her words.
PART II
The Knave of Diamonds Page 22
