"There, I promise I will be quiet and say nothing, if you let me stay.
If you do not, I'll give the alarm in spite of you all."
"Pat! He's waking up."
With the tones of the sweet, rich voice thrilling his nerves, Fred
Chester opened his eyes as he sat back in his chair, and gazed up at the
cluster of soft lights glowing by the ceiling; but they did not take his
attention. He was dwelling wonderingly upon the words he had heard as
if in a dream.
His head was heavy and confused, and it was some moments before he could
grasp his position. "Who's waking up?" he thought. Then his eyes fell,
and he looked sharply down, and the blood rushed surging to his temples
as he saw his beautiful visitor of the night before, then all came back
in a moment.
She was kneeling beside the wounded man's couch, holding his hand, and
she gazed at Chester with an appealing, wistful look in her eyes which
again sent a thrill through him, and a feeling of misery and despair
such as he had never before felt made his heart sink. He shivered
slightly as he turned away, to glance round the room and note that four
of those whom he had previously seen were still present.
"You've had a good nap, doctor," said a familiar voice.
"Have--have I been asleep?" said Chester, involuntarily.
"Beautifully. What a delightfully clear conscience you must have,
doctor!" said the speaker, banteringly, "that is, if you did not take a
chloral pill on the sly. Six hours right off."
"Impossible!" cried Chester, angrily.
"Then my watch is a most awful liar, and the clock on the chimney-piece
there has joined in the conspiracy."
Chester hurriedly took out his watch, to find that the hands stood at
two, as he bent down over his patient, who was sleeping calmly.
"We gave him a dose of the drops as soon as the bottle came, doctor, for
we did not like to wake you after your hard night. He has slept like a
lamb ever since."
Chester took no notice of the words, as he busied himself about his
patient, the lady drawing back and going to a chair, waiting impatiently
till he ceased.
"How is he?" she said then excitedly.
"He could not be doing better, madam," said Chester, trying to speak
coldly, and avoiding for a moment the eyes which seemed to plunge
searchingly into his; and at his words he saw that they suddenly grew
dim, and that she clapped her hands to her lips to keep back a piteous
sob or two.
"Hush, hush, my dearest," whispered the old housekeeper in a motherly
way, and Chester saw that a strong effort was made, and the face from
which he could not tear his eyes grew calm.
"Well, doctor, if ever I am in a bad fix, I shall know where to apply."
Chester turned sharply to the speaker, and read from the cynical smile
that he had seen the impression made upon him by the agitated face which
possessed so strange a fascination.
"You prove yourself quite worthy of your reputation, which has often
reached us."
"Any surgeon could have done what I have, sir," replied Chester,
shortly, and then mastering himself, he continued, as he thought of home
and all he had at stake, "I presume that now you are at rest about your
cousin's state, this sorry farce is at an end."
"Very nearly a tragedy, my dear sir," said the other, lightly.
"You mistake me, sir. I mean this enforced detention."
"Oh, tut, tut, doctor! I thought we had settled this. Surely after
your telegram, taken to the chief office, madam, your wife, will not be
uneasy."
As he spoke he gave the lady by the couch a mocking look, and Chester
saw her turn angrily away.
It was on the doctor's lips to say sharply, "I am not married, sir," and
he felt startled as he checked himself.
Why should he have been so eager to say that? he thought, and a peculiar
feeling of resentment grew within, as a strange conscience-pricking
began to startle him. Of what folly had he been guilty in thought?
"Come, doctor, we have been waiting till you woke before having some
breakfast."
The speaker rose and touched the electric bell-push, then led the way
toward a small table at the far end of the room, the others waiting for
the doctor to follow; but he stood irresolute.
"You will join us at breakfast, doctor?" said a low, sweet voice at his
side, making him start slightly, and then follow to the table, to take
the place pointed out by his companion on her right, as she took the
head of the table.
"As his wife," thought Chester; then trying hard to be perfectly cool,
and assuming to be treating his position lightly, he partook of the meal
placed before him, and joined in the general conversation, a great deal
of which dealt with the popular out-door life of the day--Lord's, Ascot,
the promises of sport in August and September, and the ordinary topics
of the hour, all lightly traversed by a party of gentlemen who had ample
incomes for their needs, and enjoyed life.
The ladies were increased to three when they took their seats at the
table, and Chester soon found that two were the young wives of "Jem" and
"Paddy," the bluff, manly fellow; and all seemed so intent now upon
ignoring the trouble and setting their prisoner guest at his ease, that
Chester's manner softened, and before they rose from the table he found
himself listening with increasing interest to his neighbour's remarks.
The excellent meal came at last to an end, and after a few words with
Chester's companion, two of the ladies retired while the housekeeper
quietly cleared the table; and as Marion, as they all called her, went
to the side of the couch, Jem approached Chester.
"The papers," he said in the most matter-of-fact way. "Cigars and
cigarettes on that table. Spirits and soda or seltzer in the
cellarette. Pray make yourself at home, my dear doctor, and name
anything you want. It shall be obtained directly--everything, that is,
but liberty. Won't you light up now? My cousin there will not mind; we
all smoke. Eh, Marion?"
"I beg that Dr Chester will not hesitate," said the lady addressed, and
Chester drew a deep breath as he saw her cross to the table and fetch a
cigarette-box and matches.
"It would be ungracious to refuse," he said coldly, as he took one, and
then the lighted match from the white fingers which offered it, their
eyes meeting as he lit his cigarette, and as a slight flush mantled the
lady's cheeks, Chester's heart gave one heavy throb.
The rest of that night-like day passed in a dream, or a time in which
Chester felt as if he were suffering from some form of enchantment. He
fought hard against the strange, new, mystic influence, and strove to
raise like a shield to protect him, his honour, his word; and again and
again as he busied himself with his patient he told himself that he
dearly loved Isabel, his betrothed, but this feeling was all as new as
it was masterful, and often when he met the eyes of her who never left
the couch in her assiduous attentions as nurse, he felt that he was
drifting fast into a state of slavery, and that this woman was his fate.
"She is another's wife," he kept telling himself; "and I am an utter
scoundrel to give way to such thoughts. Heaven help me! I must go
before it is too late. Have I been drugged, and has the potent
medicament sapped me to the very core?"
But he felt that he could not go as yet, for though it was unnoticed by
the others, he saw that a change for the worse had taken place toward
evening, at a time when all had left the room but the big, athletic
fellow and Marion, they being evidently left on guard while a short rest
was taken.
Paddy was sitting back smoking, with his eyes half-closed; but he
suddenly roused himself up and came across to the couch.
"How is he getting on?" he whispered.