LORD CAMERON AND WALLACE BECOME FIRM FRIENDS.
"Help me!" Vane Cameron commanded of Mr. Mencke, as he stooped to assist
the fallen man, his noble face full of pity and compassion for him.
They lifted Wallace and laid him upon a lounge, where Vane, after
loosening his necktie and collar, strove to revive him by sprinkling his
face plentifully with cold water and chafing his hands vigorously.
But Wallace showed no signs of recovering; he lay motionless,
breathless--like a man dead, and at last, becoming alarmed, Lord Cameron
sent a servant for the nearest physician.
Upon his arrival, and after an examination of Wallace's condition, he
pronounced it to be an attack of coma produced by hemorrhage in the
brain, caused by excessive excitement and long continued anxiety of
mind.
"It is a serious attack," he said, gravely, "but the poor fellow is
young and has a splendid physique; if he can hold out long enough--until
the clot is absorbed--he may recover. Is he a relative of milord?"
"No, I never saw him until this evening," Vane answered, "but I want
everything possible done to save his life, and I will be responsible."
The energetic little French doctor needed no better incentive than this,
for the wealth and generosity of the young English earl had been common
talk in the town ever since his arrival, and he threw himself into the
work of effecting Wallace's recovery with all his heart. Every luxury
that Vane could think of or the doctor suggest, was supplied for his
benefit and comfort.
Mr. and Mrs. Mencke took a hasty leave the day following the disclosures
related in the foregoing chapter.
Their treachery and unnatural harshness toward Violet had been unmasked,
and Lady Cameron and her son did not take any pains to conceal their
condemnation of such atrocious conduct; consequently Violet's sister and
her husband were anxious to escape from Mentone as quickly as possible.
"You must go home also, mother," Vane said to Lady Isabel, after their
departure, "it will not do for you to remain longer in this enervating
climate."
"And what of you, my son?" the fond mother questioned, anxiously.
"I shall stay with him until he recovers, or at least until he is able
to be moved farther north," the young man quietly responded.
"Vane----"
"Do not oppose me, mother, please," he interrupted, "he is a stranger in
a strange country, with not a friend to minister to his need or comfort;
and, if I am not mistaken, he has only a scant supply of money."
"But the nurse and physician can look after him, and the bills can all
be sent to you, if you wish," urged Lady Cameron.
"The nurse and physician will both do their duty more faithfully if I am
here to watch them," Vane answered, inflexibly. "For her sake," he
added, in a low tone, and with white lips, "I shall do my utmost to
bring him back to health, while if, in spite of all, he dies, I shall
lay him by her side, and then take up the broken thread of my own life
as best I can."
Lady Cameron stole to his side and wound her arms about his neck.
"Vane," she murmured, while tears streamed over her cheeks, "my noble
boy! it is like you to do this and like the Master who said, 'I was a
stranger and ye took me in.' But it breaks my heart to hear you speak in
that hopeless tone. I know--I feel sure that the 'broken thread of your
life,' as you express it, will be joined again. I cannot contemplate
with resignation that you, with your noble character and grand
possibilities for doing good, should carry this unhealed wound to your
grave. But I shall not go home to leave you here," she added,
resolutely; "if you stay to care for this poor, suffering stranger, I
shall stay to look after you."
"Mother, I cannot permit it," Vane began, but she interrupted him.
"I am inexorable," she said, firmly. "You know that the warm weather is
not depressing to me, as to most people, and anxiety would prey upon me
more than the climate, so it will be useless to urge me further."
Thus it was settled, and those two royal-hearted people remained for
another month in that deserted hotel, and devoted themselves to the care
of Wallace Richardson during his critical illness.
He was very, very ill, but as the physician had said, possessed a
splendid constitution, and, after a fierce battle with disease, he began
slowly to recover--at least his physical health.
But his mind seemed sadly clouded, a condition caused by the pressure of
a clot of blood upon his brain, the doctor said, and time alone would
show whether he would ever entirely regain the use of his mental
faculties; absorption was the only process by which it could be
achieved, and this might be slow or rapid, as his general health
improved.
At the end of four weeks it was thought that he might safely be moved;
indeed, the physician advised it, thinking he would gain strength faster
in a more invigorating atmosphere, and Vane determined to convey him
directly to the Isle of Wight, whither he had intended taking Violet.
It seemed almost like the mockery of fate that, instead of taking the
woman whom he had loved and hoped to make his wife to this beautiful
summer home, he should remove hither the man whom she had loved and
secretly married, to nurse him back to health.
The change proved to be very beneficial, and Wallace began to gain
strength, both physically and mentally, almost immediately.
Possibly the change in medical treatment had also something to do with
this improvement, for Lord Cameron placed him under the care of one of
the most skillful physicians of London, who happened to be summering on
the island.
He did not appear to regard the case so seriously as the French doctor
had done.
"He will be all right again in a couple of months," Doctor Harkness
said. "Give him plain, nourishing diet, plenty of moderate out-door
exercise, and keep his mind free from all exciting subjects."
Time proved the truth of this prophecy; there was a steady improvement
in Wallace from the moment of his arrival upon the island, and twelve
weeks from the day of his attack he was pronounced a well man again.
During his convalescence, as he came, little by little, to realize his
position, together with the kindness and care which had been thrown
around him during his illness, he tried to manifest his appreciation of
it.
The first time he referred to the subject was one delightful afternoon,
when the two young men were sitting together upon the broad piazza of
Lord Cameron's elegant villa, which overlooked the sea.
Vane had been reading to his companion an amusing story, which both had
seemed to enjoy thoroughly. When he finished it and closed his book
Wallace looked up and remarked, gratefully:
"What a good friend you have been to me, Cameron! I hope you do not
think me unappreciative, but I have only just begun to have sense enough
to find it out."
"I trust we are good friends," Vane answered, cordially but evading a
direct reply to his gratitude, "and that we shall continue to be such
throughout our lives."
He had grown to admire the young architect exceedingly during the long
weeks that he had so patiently borne his weakness and enforced idleness;
while, as his mind gradually became stronger and clearer, he saw that he
was no ordinary person, that he possessed great ability--a strong
character, and unswerving principles of rectitude.
"Thank you," Wallace answered, gratefully; "I hope so, too. But how am I
ever to repay you for your unexampled kindness? It is a problem beyond
my ability to solve."
"By pledging the friendship I desire, and saying no more about the
obligation--if any there is," Vane replied, with a genial smile, and
holding out his hand to his companion.
Wallace instantly laid his within it, and the two men thus sealed the
compact with a violent but heart-felt clasp.
Later Wallace spoke of Violet for the first time since his illness, and
begged for more information regarding her sojourn at Mentone and the
circumstances of her flight, though he touched as lightly as possible
upon the revolting story of the discovery of the body upon the beach and
its burial; but he would not even hint his suspicion of suicide.
The subject was a depressing one to both, and to change it Vane said,
after a long pause:
"If you feel like it, would you mind coming with me into the library to
look over some plans that came from London to-day? I am about to erect a
school building for the children of my tenants, and also a home for aged
people and orphans. Perhaps, being an architect, you can make some
suggestions that will be useful to me."
This was merely a ruse to divert Wallace's mind from the sad and
exciting train of thought into which he had fallen; but the young man
arose with alacrity at the mention of plans. He dearly loved his
profession, and was already beginning to be anxious to get into active
service again.
He followed his friend to the library, where they found the plans spread
out upon a table, and both soon became deeply interested in discussing
them.
Wallace was quick to discover that they were defective, and far from
being practical, in many respects. They were imposing, and looked well
on paper, but he knew that when completed the buildings would be very
disappointing in various ways.
He modestly pointed out the defects, but in a way that betrayed he knew
his business thoroughly, and Lord Cameron, who would never have
discovered them until the buildings were completed, became disgusted
with the plans, and said at once that he should discard them entirely.
"Nay, do not be too hasty in your condemnation. I am afraid I have been
too critical," Wallace said, regretfully. "With some changes, you might
still use them; but, if you will allow me, I will make you some
drawings, giving you my ideas regarding these buildings; then, perhaps,
you can combine the two sets, and get something more to your mind."
"Do," said Lord Cameron, eagerly; "and if they prove to be what I want,
you shall have the price Mac Cumber is going to charge me for these--it
is no mean one, either."
"The price!" exclaimed Wallace, flushing. "No, indeed! Do not mention
such a thing after all your bounty to me during these many weeks."
"Ah, but that was on the score of friendship, you know," lightly
returned Vane. "That is all settled for. Remember your pledge. This will
be business."
Wallace made no reply, but the settling of the firm lines about his
mouth plainly indicated that he meant to have his own way in this
matter.
He went immediately to work, all his old enthusiasm awakening the moment
he took his pencil in his fingers.
He was not yet strong enough mentally to apply himself very closely,
neither would Lord Cameron allow him to be imprudent; but by working a
few hours every day he made good progress, and at the end of a couple of
weeks laid before Lord Cameron two sets of plans which, for convenience,
beauty of design, and elegance of workmanship, far exceeded anything
that he had even seen.
"You are a genius, Richardson!" he exclaimed, after he had thoroughly
examined them, and Wallace had explained everything. "You have utilized
every square foot of space, and that, too, without infringing in any way
upon the beauty and proportions. I shall use these plans, and Mac Cumber
would do well to come and take lesson of you."
Wallace was of course very much pleased with this high praise, while he
was no less gratified when, the following week, Lord Cameron proposed
that they should take a trip to his estate, so that he might judge if
the proposed site for the new buildings were just what it should be, or
whether it could be improved upon by choosing some other.
The next seven days were spent in Essex County, at the country seat of
the young Earl of Sutherland, and where Wallace was entertained as an
honored guest, while every day the bond of friendship between the two
men became more firmly cemented.
The site proved all that could be desired, and Wallace assured his
friend that the buildings would make a very fine appearance upon it when
completed.
After that Vane said that he must see some of the "lions of London," and
he took him up to his town house, where they spent two weeks very
enjoyably.
It was now about the first of October, and Wallace, claiming that he was
now as well as ever, said that he must return to his business in New
York.
Dr. Harkness was consulted, and expressed the opinion that he was able
to go, and, accordingly, the day of his departure was set for the fifth.
"I am very loath to let you go," Vane said, regretfully, as, on the
evening before his departure, they sat together in his "bachelor nest,"
as his smoking-room was called.
"I shall regret the separation as much as you possibly can," Wallace
replied, gravely, "but I must go back to my work. I have but one object
in life now--my profession. I shall devote all my energies to it, and
try to forget my great loss in making a name for myself."
"There can be no doubt that you will do that, with your talent," Lord
Cameron replied; then drawing an envelope from his pocket, he quietly
passed it to him. "Do not open it until you reach New York," he said,
with some embarrassment.
"Forgive me if I do," Wallace said, cutting the end and drawing forth
the paper within it, for he was confident that he knew the nature of its
contents.
He found a check on the Bank of England for a hundred pounds.
"Cameron! I cannot take it," he said, flushing hotly.
"I beg you will," said Vane, earnestly.
"I should never respect myself again if I did," Wallace returned, with
emotion. "You are more than welcome to the plans, if this check was
intended as a remuneration for them, while I shall never cease to feel
that I owe you a debt which I can never repay for all your kindness to
my loved one, not to mention the vetoed subject of my obligations to
you."
"But--have you funds sufficient for your needs?" Vane asked, flushing.
"Yes, for all present needs," his companion answered. "I was paid five
thousand dollars for the injuries which I received in that accident I
told you of, and I took a letter of credit for a thousand when I came
abroad, so I have abundant means for my expenses to America."