"Hah, that's better," said the doctor one fine morning, "feel stronger,
don't you?"
"Oh yes, uncle," said Vane rather faintly, "only my head feels weak and
strange, and as if I couldn't think."
"Then don't try," said the doctor, and for another day or two Vane was
kept quiet.
But all the time there was a curious mental effervescence going on as
the lad lay in bed, the object of every one's care; and until he could
clearly understand why he was there, there was a constant strain and
worry connected with his thoughts.
"Give him time," the doctor used to say to Aunt Hannah, "and have
confidence in his medical man. When nature has strengthened him enough
his mind will be quite clear."
"But are you sure, dear?" said Aunt Hannah piteously; "it would be so
sad if the poor fellow did not quite recover his memory."
"Humph!" ejaculated the doctor, "this comes of having some one you know
by heart for medical attendant. You wouldn't have asked Doctor White or
Doctor Black such a question as that."
"It is only from anxiety, my dear," said Aunt Hannah; "I have perfect
confidence in you. It is wonderful how he is improved."
Just then two visitors arrived in the shape of Gilmore and Macey.
They had come to make inquiries on account of the rector, they said; and
on hearing the doctor's report, Macey put in a petition on his own
account.
"Let you go up and sit with him a bit?" said the doctor. "Well, I
hardly know what to say. He knows us now; but will you promise to be
very quiet?"
"Oh, of course, sir," cried Macey.
"I can't let two go up," said the doctor.
Macey looked at Gilmore.
"I'll give way if you'll promise to let me have first turn next time."
"Agreed," said Macey; and Gilmore went off back to give the doctor's
report to the rector, while Macey was led upstairs gently by Aunt
Hannah, and after again promising to be very quiet, let into Vane's
room, and the door closed behind him.
Vane was lying, gazing drowsily at the window, but the closing of the
door made him turn his eyes toward the new comer, when his face lit up
directly.
"What, Aleck!" he said faintly.
"What, old Weathercock!" cried Macey, running to the bed. "Oh, I say,
old chap, it does one good to see you better, I say you're going to be
quite well now, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am better. But have they caught them?"
"Eh? Caught what?"
"Those two young scoundrels of gipsies," said Vane quickly. Then, as he
realised what he had said, he threw his arms out over the sheet. "Why,
that's what I've been trying to think of for days, and now it's come.
Have they caught them?"
"What for?" said Macey, wonderingly.
"For knocking me about as they did. They ought to be punished; I've
been very ill, haven't I?"
"Awful," said Macey, quickly. "But, I say, was it those two chaps?"
Vane looked at him half wonderingly.
"Yes, of course," he said. "I remember it all now. It's just as if a
cloud had gone away from the back of my head, and I could see clearly
right back now."
"Why did they do it?" cried Macey, speaking out, but feeling dubious,
for Vane's manner was rather strange, and he might still be wandering.
"I don't know," said Vane; "I was getting truffles for uncle when they
came along, and it was fists against sticks. They won, I suppose."
"Well, rather so I think," said Macey, edging toward the door.
"Don't go, old chap. You've only just come."
"No, but you're talking too much, and you're to be kept quiet."
"Well, I'm lying quiet. But, tell me, have they caught those two
fellows for knocking me about last night?"
"No, not yet; and I must go now, old fellow."
"But tell me this: What did Syme say this morning because I didn't
come?"
"Oh, nothing much; he was tackling me. I got it horribly for being so
stupid."
"Not you. But tell him I shall be back in the morning."
"All right. Good-bye."
They shook hands, and Macey hurried down to the doctor and Mrs Lee.
"Here, he's ever so much better and worse, too, sir," cried Macey.
The doctor started up in alarm.
"Oh, no, sir; he's quiet enough, but he thinks it was only last night
when he was knocked about."
"Convalescents are often rather hazy about their chronology," said the
doctor.
"But he's clear enough in one thing, sir; he says it was the two gipsy
lads who set upon him with sticks."
"Ah!" cried the doctor.
"And I came down to ask you if these two fellows ought not to be
caught."
"Yes, yes, of course," cried the doctor. "But first of all we must be
sure whether he is quite clear in his head. This may be an illusion."
"Well, sir, it may be," replied Macey, "but if I'd had such a knocking
about as poor Vane, I shouldn't make any mistake about it as soon as I
could begin to think."
"Stay here," said the doctor. "I'll go up and see him."
He went up and all doubt about his nephew's clearness of memory was at
an end, for Vane began at once.
"I've been lying here some time, haven't I, uncle?"
"Yes, my boy; a long while."
"I was very stupid just now when Macey was here. It seemed to me that
it was only last night that I was in the wood getting truffles, when
those two gipsy lads attacked me, but, of course, I've been very ill
since."
"Yes, my boy, very."
"The young scoundrels! There was the basket and trowel, I remember."
"Yes, my boy, they brought them home."
"That's right. It was your little bright trowel, and--oh, of course I
remember that now. I was taking the bottle of liniment, and one of the
lad's sticks struck me on the breast, where I had the bottle in my
pocket, and shivered it."
"Struck you with his stick?"
"Yes. I made as hard a fight of it as I could, but they were too much
for me."
"Don't think about it any more now, but try and have a nap," said the
doctor quietly. "I want to go down."
Vane sighed.
"What's the matter, boy, fresh pain?"
"No, I was thinking what a trouble I am to you, uncle."
"Trouble, boy? Why, it's quite a treat," said the doctor, laughing. "I
was quite out of practice, and I'm in your debt for giving me a little
work."
"Don't thank me, uncle," said Vane with a smile, though it was only the
shadow of his usual hearty laugh. "I wouldn't have given you the job if
I could have helped it."
The doctor nodded, patted the boy's shoulder and went down, for Vane in
his weakness willingly settled himself off to sleep, his eyes being
half-closed as the doctor shut the door.
"Well, sir," cried Macey, eagerly, as the doctor entered the
drawing-room, "he's all right in the head again, isn't he?"
"I don't think there's a doubt of it, my lad," said the doctor. "You
are going close by, will you ask the policeman to come down?"
"Yes; I'll tell him," cried Macey, eagerly.
"No, no, leave me to tell him. I would rather," said the doctor,
"because I must speak with some reserve. It is not nice to arrest
innocent people."
"But I may tell Mr Syme and Gilmore?"
"Oh, yes, you can tell what you know," replied the doctor; and,
satisfied with this concession, Macey rushed off.
As he reached the lane leading to the rectory, habit led him up it a few
yards. Then recollecting himself, he was turning back when he caught
sight of Distin and Gilmore coming toward him, and he waited till they
came up.
"It's all right," he cried. "Vane knows all about it now, and he told
me and the doctor who it is that he has to thank for the knocking
about."
"What! he knows?" cried Distin, eagerly; and Gilmore caught his
companion's arm.
"Yes," he cried, catching Distin's arm in turn, "come on with me."
"Where to?" said Distin, starting.
"To the police--to old Bates."
Distin gave Macey a curious look, and then walked on beside him, Macey
repeating all he knew as they went along toward Bates' cottage, where
they found the constable looking singularly unofficial, for he was in
his shirt-sleeves weeding his garden.
"Want me, gents?" he said with alacrity as he rose and looked from one
to the other, his eyes resting longest upon Distin, as if he had some
doubt about him that he could not clear up.
"We don't, but the doctor does," cried Macey. "I've just come from
there."
"Phee-ew!" whistled the constable. "They been at his fowls again? No;
they'd have known in the morning. Why--no--yes--you don't mean to say
as Mr Vane's come round enough to say who knocked him about?"
"The doctor told me to tell you he wanted you to step down to see him,"
said Macey coolly; "so look sharp."
The constable ran to the pump to wash his hands, and five minutes after
he was on the way to the Little Manor.
"I'm wrong," he muttered as he went along--"ever so wrong. Somehow you
can't be cock-sure about anything. I could ha' sweered as that
yallow-faced poople had a finger in it, for it looked as straight as
straight; but theer, it's hard work to see very far. Now, let's hear
what the doctor's got to say."