Chester took a couple of steps to his right, for there was a faint sound
in the pitchy darkness which he interpreted to mean the advance of an
enemy. Then in the perturbation of spirit and nervousness of the
moment, he moved a step or two cautiously in what he believed to be the
direction of the other door, and stopped short, half-dazed by the
feeling of confusion which comes upon one in a dense fog.
"Who did that?" said the voice he recognised. "You, Marion, of course.
Here, you go to your room."
There was no reply.
"Do you hear me? It is no time for fooling now."
"Yes, I hear you, but I will not leave his side. You cowards! do you
want to kill me too?"
"Hold your tongue. Di--Paddy--all of you, get hold of the mad fool
before worse comes of it."
There was a faint cry, a panting and scuffling, the word "Help!" blurred
and stifled as if a hand had been suddenly clapped over the speaker's
lips, and Chester mentally saw his beautiful companion of the brougham
struggling violently as she was being half carried from the room.
Stirred by excitement to the deepest depths, Chester rushed to her help,
and was brought up sharp by the dining table, while the scuffling
continued upon the other side.
He felt his way along the edge, to pass round it in the darkness, but
the noise he made betrayed his whereabouts, and his next step took him
into the grasp of a pair of strong hands, which held him firmly, and
before he could free himself, there was the sound of a door opening, a
faint light showed for a moment, and before it was shut off he dimly saw
the actors in the struggle; then the door was closed, and the voice of
him addressed as Jem said sharply--
"Light up, Paddy."
A glass was knocked from the table; someone stumbled against a chair; an
angry oath followed; and then came the rattle of massive fire-irons.
"Are you drunk, man?" came in the same voice.
"Drunk? no! but I'm not an owl," was growled. "Ah! that's it."
The cluster of incandescent lights glowed golden, and then brightened,
showing the doctor that the dining table was between him and the couch
where his patient lay, white and motionless; the tall, decisive man
standing where he had last seen him, close to the door; a heavy-featured
young fellow with a family likeness close by the mantelpiece; another,
the one who had held him, close by.
"Well, doctor," said the chief spokesman, cynically, "the storm has
passed over. All unexpected only a few hours ago, and we were seated
happily after our coffee and cigarettes, when that idiot began to play
the fool with his revolver, and shot himself. Troubles never come
alone. Now, my dear sir, let me apologise for what has happened since
we all lost our tempers and behaved so foolishly."
Chester looked at him sternly and remained silent.
"You will excuse my hastiness. I was excited in my anxiety about the
poor fool there, and you see now how imperative it is that you should
not leave him till he is safe."
"Will you be good enough to unlock that door, sir, and let me pass
through?" said Chester, coldly.
"To be perfectly plain, doctor--no, I will not. Let us understand one
another at once. You will have to stay and make the best of it."
"I shall not stay, sir, and as soon as I leave here I shall take what
steps seem, after due thought, to be correct over what has been an
outrage toward me; and without doubt a murderous attack upon that
unfortunate man."
"Murderous attack? Absurd, doctor! An accident."
"Do you take me for a child, sir? He could not have shot himself. Now,
if you please, unlock that door."
"When I unlock it, doctor, it will be to go out and lock you in," said
the other, grimly. "There, sir, it is of no use to struggle, so make
the best of it. You are in for a week, but we'll make it as comfortable
for you as we can. Like to send home a telegram?"
"Will you have the goodness to understand me, sir!" said Chester,
firmly.
"I do, my dear doctor, but you will not understand me. A week with your
patient will not hurt you, and a fee of a couple of hundred guineas
shall be paid--now, if you like. There, I will be plain with you, as a
man of the world. It was a family quarrel, and two hot-headed fools
drew their revolvers--Yankee fashion. Here, Paddy, see that we have
some coffee and liqueurs. Cigar or cigarette, doctor? Sit down, and
let's chat it over like sensible men."
"I do not wish to come to a struggle and blows again, sir," said
Chester, firmly. "Please understand that you are wasting words. I mean
to leave this house at once."
"We often mean to do things that are impossible, doctor. You cannot.
So act sensibly. Take some refreshment, and attend to your patient.
Will you have the goodness to look round this room?"
Chester made no reply.
"You will not smoke? I will. My nerves want soothing."
The speaker lit a large cigar, and left the gold-mounted case open upon
the table.
"Better take one," he said as he exhaled the fragrant fumes; "they are
rather fine. Now, doctor; that door communicates with the back the
hall, and it is locked; that other one with a lobby from which the upper
and lower parts of the house are reached; and it, too, is locked. You
naturally intend to communicate with the outside. Well, you cannot.
This dining-room has no windows, and is lit up night and day. You are a
prisoner, my dear sir, and you will not communicate with the servants,
for you will see none. These gentlemen will help me as your gaolers; an
eminently respectable old housekeeper--lady-like I may say, eh, Paddy?"
The young man addressed nodded and grinned.
"A lady-like body will see that all your animal wants are provided for;
a chair-bed will be brought in; and to make your stay more pleasant two
or three of us will take you to the billiard-room overhead and have a
game with you--by the way, that place has only skylights. Where we
stand used to be a sooty cat-walk of a garden till we built these rooms
over. A great improvement to the house."
"Who are you? What house is this?" said Chester, sharply.
"Your host, sir; and the house is ours--at your service. Better have a
cigar. `Needs must when the devil drives.' That is your position now--
I playing the devil."
A low moan from the wounded man changed the current of the doctor's
thoughts; and with the others watching him curiously, he went straight
to his patient's side to place a cushion behind him and relieve the
pressure upon his wound, after which the patient seemed to sink once
more into a state of repose.
As Chester left him he received an approving nod.
"We fellows would not have thought of that. Ah, here's the coffee.
Come, doctor, accept your position. It is folly to beat against the
bars of a prison when they are too strong."
For at that moment the heavy-faced young man, who seemed to be a
thorough athlete, came back into the room from the other end, bearing a
silver tray with handsome fittings; and Chester started slightly, for he
had not seen him go, and he realised now that he must have been occupied
for some little time with his patient.
Just then he saw that the leader of the little party whispered something
which he interpreted to mean, "Let him alone; he'll come to his senses;"
and he began to think out his position.
Everything seemed in accordance with what had been told him: he was
alone, one man against four--gentlemen, evidently, but plainly enough
strongly-built, athletic fellows, who looked to be lovers of out-door
sports, and each of them in a struggle more than his match.
His rage had cooled down somewhat, and his common-sense began to
prevail. It was hard to master his resentment, and he could not make
out what was at the back of it all, more than what was evidently plain--
a terrible family quarrel, the participators in which were anxious to
keep out of the papers, and possibly from the police courts. He did not
know who they were, nor, as he realised now, in what street he was; but
that, he felt, he could soon make out. It was awkward. They would be
anxious in Raybeck Square, but he would send a message and set them at
rest.
"I wonder whether they kept Bel all night," he said to himself; and at
this thought others came, and among them a strange feeling of annoyance
with himself as he recalled his feelings, during the little journey,
towards his summoner.
Then he hurriedly cast these thoughts aside, and began once more to
ponder on his position, walking slowly to and fro, close to the couch,
while the little party, who had lit up cigars, now began to sip their
coffee.
The next minute the heavy-faced young fellow known as "Paddy" approached
him with a cup and the cigar-case.
"I put a liqueur of brandy in it, doctor," he said in a low voice. "I
say, do you think the poor chap will get over it?"
"I hope so," replied Chester, shortly.
"Thank God!" said the young man, warmly. "I say, doctor, don't cut up
rough. You're in a hole, but I'll see you're all right. You'll take a
cigar?"
He said the last words so reproachfully that Chester could hardly
forbear to smile; and he took a cigar, lit it, and then, feeling utterly
exhausted, tossed off the coffee and brandy, after which he resumed his
walk up and down by the couch.
"`Needs must when the devil drives,'" he said to himself. "It's of no
use to fight. I must pull this poor fellow through, but I'll make them
pay for it. Seems like a dream. I suppose I am awake."
The coffee and cigar were having their effect, and at the end of an
hour, during which the party at the end of the table had been conversing
in a low voice, a moan or two from the sufferer finished the tendency
towards submission, and Chester busied himself for some time about the
couch. Then, rising once more, "Pen and ink," he said shortly, and the
heavy-featured young fellow fetched him a blotting-case and inkstand.
"A telegraph form, too."
"Plenty there, doctor."
Chester wrote quickly for a few minutes, and then handed a couple of
papers to the young fellow, who had stopped close at hand.
"I want this prescription made up at the chemist's, and the telegram
sent respecting a substitute to see my patients."
"All right, doctor," and the recipient took both to the end of the
table, and gave them to the man who seemed to be his brother.
The latter took the papers and rose to cross to Chester.
"Thank you, doctor," he said quietly. "You will do your best, I see.
Please bear in mind that money is no object to us here. Our cousin's
life is."
He went out of the room directly, returned soon after, and brought with
him a quiet, sedate-looking old lady in black silk and white apron.
She was very pale, and her eyes looked wild and strange, as she went
straight to the couch, leaned over and kissed the patient's forehead,
and then set to work and cleared the disordered table, almost without a
sound, two of the young men joining her and helping to carry the dessert
things out by the farther door.
Chester's face must have told tales, for he started round in surprise to
find that he had been carefully watched by the leader of the little plot
to detain him.
"You could not get out that way, doctor," he said quietly. "We are a
very united family here, and the housekeeper is devoted to us."
Chester frowned with annoyance.
"I understand you," he said; "but mind this: every dog has his day, sir,
and mine will come, unless revolvers are brought into play and an
awkward witness silenced."
"My dear doctor, you are romantic," was the sarcastic reply. "Don't be
alarmed; we shall not shoot and bury you on the premises, for sanitary
reasons. It might affect the nerves of our ladies, too. There, all we
want of you is your skill to set that poor fellow right, and then you
can return home, better paid than seeing ordinary patients. How does he
seem?"
An angry retort was at Chester's lips, but he did not utter it. He
accepted his position, for the time being, and replied quietly--
"Going on well, but he will be the better for a sedative. Feverish, of
course. Have you sent that prescription?"
"Yes, it has been taken, and the chemist will be rung up to dispense it.
I say, doctor; no fear of a bad ending?"
"And no thanks to the man who fired at him from behind," said Chester,
looking straight at his questioner as he spoke. "Fortunately the bullet
passed diagonally by his ribs, an inch to the right--"
"Yes, yes, the old story, doctor; but I did not fire the shot."
"Pray don't excuse yourself, sir," said Chester, coldly. "I am not a
magistrate; only a medical man with the customary knowledge of surgery."
"And a little more, too," was the reply, with a smile. "There, doctor,
we will not quarrel this morning, and you will not introduce the matter
to the police. It will pay you better to be silent; but if you
preferred to talk about it I'm afraid you would not be believed."
The speaker smiled cynically as he saw the effect of his words, and
walked away, leaving Chester thinking deeply, and, in spite of his anger
and annoyance, beginning more and more to feel that he had better accept
his position.
"It is a strange experience," he said to himself, as he sank back in an
easy-chair by the couch; "but a fee of two hundred guineas! Bel shall
have it in the shape of a present. She will not fidget when she has had
my wire."