About an hour later Oldroyd called; and, as the bell jangled at the gate
and Eliza went slowly down, Lucy's face turned crimson, and she ran to
the window and listened, to hear the enquiry,--"Is your mistress in?"
That was enough. The whole scene of that particular morning walk came
back with a repetition of the agony of mind. She saw Rolph in his
ludicrous undress, striding along the sandy road; she heard again his
maundering civilities, and she saw, too, the figure of Oldroyd seated
upon the miller's pony, passing them, and afterwards blocking the way.
It was he, now, seated upon the same pony; and, without waiting to hear
Eliza's answer, Lucy fled to her bedroom and locked herself in, to begin
sobbing and crying in the most ridiculous manner.
"No, sir," said Eliza, with a bob; "she've gone to town shopping, but
Miss Lucy's in the drawing-room."
Eliza smiled to herself as she said this, giving herself the credit of
having managed a splendid little bit of diplomacy, for, according to her
code, young gents ought to have opportunities to talk to young ladies
whenever there was a chance. She was, however, terribly taken aback by
the young doctor's words.
"Thank you, yes, but I don't want to see her,"--words which, had she
heard them, would have made Lucy's sobs come more quickly. "Is Mr
Alleyne in?"
"Yes, sir, he's in the observatory."
"I'll come in then," said Oldroyd; and he dismounted, and threw the rein
over the ring hook in the yard wall.
"If you please, sir," said the maid, who did not like to lose an
opportunity now that a medical man was in the house, "I don't think I'm
very well."
"Eh, not well?" said Oldroyd, pausing in the hall, "why you appear as
rosy and bonny as a girl can look."
"Thankye, sir," said the girl, with a bob; "but I'm dreadful poorly, all
the same."
"Why, what's the matter?"
For answer Eliza put her hands behind her, and seemed as if she were
indulging in the school-girl trick of what is called "making a face" at
the doctor, for she closed her eyes, opened her mouth, wrinkled her
brow, and put out a very long red tongue, which quivered and curled up
at the point.
"That'll do," said Oldroyd, hiding a smile; and the tongue shot back,
Eliza's eyes opened, her mouth closed, and the wrinkles disappeared from
her face.
"Will that do, sir?"
"Yes; your tongue's beautifully healthy, your eyes are bright, and your
skin moist and cool. Why, what's the matter?"
"Please sir, I'm quite well of a night," said Eliza, with another bob,
"but I do have such dreadful dreams."
"Oh!" said Oldroyd, drawing in a long breath, "I see. Did you have a
bad dream last night?"
"Oh yes, sir, please. I dreamed as a poacher were going to murder me,
and I couldn't run away."
"Let me see; you had supper last night at half-past nine, did you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bread and Dutch cheese?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, you want a little medicine," said Oldroyd quietly. "I'll send you
some."
"And please, sir, how am I to take it?"
"Oh, you'll find that on the bottle, and mind this: you are not to eat
any more cheese for supper, but you may have as much butter as you like,
and stale bread."
"Thank you, sir. Will you go in, sir?"
"Yes, I'll go up," said Oldroyd, and then to himself, "What humbugs we
doctors are; but we are obliged to be. If I told the girl only to leave
off eating cheese she would think she was ill-used, and as likely as not
she would get a holiday on purpose to go over to the town and see
another man."
He tapped sharply on the door with the handle of his whip, and in
response to the loud "Come in," entered, to find Alleyne standing
amongst his instruments.
"Ah, Oldroyd," he said, holding out his hand, which the other took,
"glad to see you."
"And I'm glad to see you--looking so much better," said Oldroyd. "Why,
man, your brain has been working in a new direction; your eyes don't
look so dreamy, and the balance is getting right. Come, confess, don't
you feel more energetic than you did?"
"Ten times," said Alleyne frankly.
"Then you'll end by being a firm believer in my system--cure without
drugs, eh?"
"Indeed I shall," said Alleyne, smiling.
"And to show how consistent I am," said Oldroyd, "I've just promised to
send your maid a bottle of medicine. But come, sir, I'm just off among
the hills to see a patient. It's a lovely day; only about six miles.
Come with me, and I'll leave the pony and walk."
Alleyne shook his head.
"No," he said, "I should be very poor company for you, Oldroyd--yes, I
will go," he cried, recollecting himself. "Wait a minute and I'll be
back."
"All right," replied the doctor, who amused himself peeping among the
various glasses till Alleyne came back in a closely-fitting shooting
jacket, for which he had changed the long, loose dressing-gown he had
worn.
"That's better," cried Oldroyd, approvingly; "why, Alleyne, you will be
worth two of the patients I saw a few months ago if you go on like
this."
Alleyne smiled sadly, and took a soft felt hat from its peg; and as he
did so, he sent his hand again to his long, wild hair, and thought of
his sister's words, the colour coming into his cheeks, as he said in an
assumed easy-going manner,--
"It's time I had my hair cut."
"Well, not to put too fine a point upon it, Alleyne, it really is. I
like short hair, it is so comfortable on a windy day."
The colour stayed in Alleyne's cheeks, for, in spite of himself, he felt
a little nettled that his companion should have noticed this portion of
his personal appearance; but he said nothing, and they went out into the
yard, where, unfastening the pony, Oldroyd threw the rein over the
docile little creature's neck and then tied it to a loop in the saddle,
after which the pony followed them like a dog, till they reached its
stable, where it was left.
"Now," cried Oldroyd, "what do you say to a good tonic?"
"Do I need one?" said Alleyne, looking at him wistfully.
"Badly. I don't mean physic, man," laughed Oldroyd, "but a strong dose
of fresh air off the hills."
Alleyne laughed, and they started off across the boggy heath, avoiding
the soft places, and, wherever the ground was firm, striding along at a
good brisk pace over the elastic turf, which seemed to communicate its
springiness to their limbs, while the sweet breeze sent a fresh light
into their eyes.
Over the common and up the hilly lanes, where, as they went more slowly,
Oldroyd told the history of his patient up at the common, the result of
which was an animated discussion upon the game, laws, and Oldroyd began
wondering at the change that had come over his companion. He had taken
in a new accession of nervous force, which lent animation to his
remarks, and, as he noted all this, Oldroyd began wondering, for he
frankly told himself that there must have been other influences at work
to make this change.
"Isn't that Captain Rolph?" he said suddenly, as they turned into a long
lane that ran through one of the pine woods on the slope of a hill.
"Rolph?" said Alleyne quietly, as he glanced in the direction of a
distant horseman, coming towards them. "Yes--no--I cannot say."
"I should say--yes, from his military seat in the saddle," said Oldroyd.
"Well, if it be or no, he doesn't mean to meet us. He has gone through
the wood."
For, as he spoke, the coming horseman drew rein turned his horse's head,
leaped a ditch, and disappeared amongst the pines.
"What does he want up here?" said Oldroyd to himself, and then aloud,
"Been having a good `breather' round the hills," he continued. "Sort of
thing you ought to cultivate, Alleyne. Nothing like horse exercise."
"Horses are costly, and the money I should spend upon a horse would be
valuable to me for some optical instrument," said Alleyne, speaking
cheerfully, though all the while he was slightly excited by the sight of
the horseman they had supposed to be Rolph; but this wore off in a few
minutes, and they soon came in sight of the cottages, while before them
a tall figure, graceful in appearance, in spite of the homely dress, had
suddenly crossed a stile, hurried in the same direction, and turned in
at the cottage gate.
"Mademoiselle Judith," said Oldroyd; "a very pretty girl with a very
ugly name. Hallo! We are in trouble."
"I don't know what's come to you. Here's your poor father so bad he
can't lift hand or foot, and you always running off to Mother Wattley's
or picking flowers. Flowers indeed! Better stop and mind your father."
This in very much strident tones from the cottage whose gate they were
entering; and then a sudden softening as Oldroyd and Alleyne darkened
the doorway, and the nurse dropped a curtsey.
"Didn't know you was so close, sir. I was only saying a word to
Judith--oh, she's gone."
"How is Hayle to-day?" said Oldroyd, as the girl stepped out at the back
door.
"Well, sir, thank you kindly, I think he's better; he talks stronger
like, and he took a basin of hare soup to-day, well, that he did, and it
was nice and strong."
"Hare soup, eh?" said Oldroyd, with a queer look at Alleyne.
"Yes, sir, hare soup; he said as how he was sick o' rabbits, and Caleb
Kent kindly brought in a fine hare for him, and--"
She stopped short, looking guiltily at the young doctor, and two red
spots came in her yellow sunken cheeks.
"You're letting the cat--I mean the hare--out of the bag," said Oldroyd
drily. "One of Sir John Day's hares?"
"Oh, sir!" faltered the woman, "it's nothing to him; and I'm only the
nurse."
"There, I don't want to know," said Oldroyd. "Can I go up?"
"Oh yes, sir, please," cried the woman, who was only too glad to change
the conversation after her lapse, "you'll find him nice and tidy."
"Care to come and see my patient, Alleyne?" said Oldroyd.
"Thanks, yes, I may as well," and he followed the doctor up into the low
room, where the truth of the woman's assertions were plainly to be seen.
The wounded man, lying upon coarse linen that was exquisitely clean,
while the partially covered boards were as white as constant scrubbing
could make them.
"Well, Hayle, how are you going on? I've brought a friend of mine to
see you."
The man whose eyes and cheeks were terribly sunken, and who looked worn
out with his late journey to the very gates of death, from which he was
slowly struggling back, raised one big gnarled hand heavily to his
forelock, and let it fall again upon the bed.
"Steady, sir, steady. Glad to see you, sir, glad to see him, sir. He's
welcome like. Sit you down, sir; sit you down."
Alleyne took the stool that was nearest and sat down watching the man
curiously, as Oldroyd examined his bandages, and then asked a few
questions.
"You're going on right enough," he said at last. "Capitally."
"But I'm so weak, sir," said the great helpless fellow, piteously. "I'm
feeble as a child. I can hardly just hold my hand to my head."
"Well, what can you expect?" said Oldroyd. "You lost nearly every drop
of blood in your body, and it will take time to build you up again--to
fill you up again," he added, smiling.
"Yes sir, of course, sir; but can't you give me a bottle or two of
nothing as will set me to rights? We'll pay you, you know, sir, don't
you be afraid o' that."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of that," said Oldroyd, smiling, "but I can give you
nothing better than I am giving you. The best medicine you can have now
is plenty of strong soup, the same as you had this morning."
"Did she tell you I had soup this morning, sir?"
"Yes--hare soup," said Oldroyd meaningly.
"Did that woman say hare soup, sir?"
"Yes, and that you were tired of rabbits. I say, Hayle, I ought to tell
Sir John's keepers."
"Eh, but you won't, sir," said the man quietly.
"Why not?"
"'Cause you're too much of a gen'leman, sir, and so would your friend
be, or else you wouldn't have brought him. She needn't have let out
about it, though. I'm lying helpless-like here, and they talk and do
just as they like. Was my Judith downstairs, sir?"
"Yes," said Oldroyd.
"That's a comfort," said the man, with a sigh of content. "Young, sir,
and very pretty," he added apologetically, to Alleyne; "makes me a bit
anxious about her, don't you see, being laid-by like. You'll come and
see me again soon, doctor?"
"Yes, and I must soon have a bottle or two of port wine for you. I
can't ask Sir John Day, can I?"
"No, sir, don't ask he," said the man, with a faint smile. "Let's play
as fair as we can. If you say I'm to have some wine, we'll get it; but
I'd a deal rayther have a drop of beer."
"I daresay you would, my friend," cried Oldroyd, smiling; "but no beer
for a long time to come. Alleyne, would you mind going down now, and
sending me up the nurse?"
Alleyne rose, and, going down, sent up the woman to find himself alone
with the girl of whom they had been speaking.
Student though he was, the study of woman was one that had never come
beneath Alleyne's ken, and he found himself--for perhaps the first time
in his life--interested, and wondering how it was that so handsome and
attractive a girl could be leading so humble a cottage life as hers.
Judith, too, seemed attracted towards him, and once or twice she opened
her lips and was about to speak, but a step overhead, or the movement of
a chair, made her shrink away and begin busying herself in arranging
chairs or the ornaments upon the chimney-piece, which she dusted and
wiped.
"So you've been flower-gathering," said Alleyne, to break a rather
awkward silence.
"Yes, sir, and--" but just then Oldroyd was heard speaking at the top of
the stairs, and Judith seemed to shrink within herself as he came down.
"Ah, Miss Judith, you there? Well, your father is getting on
splendidly. Take care of him. Ready, Alleyne?"
His companion rose, said good-morning to Judith, and stepped out, while
Oldroyd obeyed a sign made by the girl, and stayed behind.
"Well," he said, looking at her curiously.
"I'm so anxious about father, sir," she said, in a low voice. "Now that
he is getting better, will there be any trouble? I mean about the
keepers, and--and"--she faltered--"the police."
"No," said Oldroyd, looking fixedly at the girl, till she coloured
warmly beneath his stern gaze, "everything seems to have settled down,
and I don't think there is anything to fear for him. Let me speak
plainly, my dear. Lookers on see most of the game."
"I--I don't understand you, sir," she said, colouring.
"Then try to. It seems to me that, to use a strong expression, some one
has been squared. There are friends at court. Now, take my advice: as
soon as father is quite well, take him into your confidence, and
persuade him to go quite away. I'm sure it would be better for you
both. Good-day."
The doctor nodded and went off after Alleyne, while Judith sat down to
bury her face in her hands and sob as if her heart would break.
Volume 2, Chapter XII.