MR. FORTESCUE'S PROPOSAL.
"Where am I?"
I feel as if I were in a strait-jacket. One of my arms is immovable, my
head is bandaged, and when I try to turn I suffer excruciating pain.
"Where am I?"
"Oh, you have wakened up!" says somebody with a foreign accent, and a dark
face bends over me. The light is dim and my sight weak, and but for his
grizzled mustache I might have taken the speaker for a woman, his ears
being adorned with large gold rings.
"Where are you? You are in the house of Señor Fortescue."
"And the mare?"
"The mare broke her wicked head against the park wall, and she has gone to
the kennels to be eaten by the dogs."
"Already? How long is it since?"
"It was the day before yesterday zat it happened."
"God bless me! I must have been insensible ever since. That means
concussion of the brain. Am I much damaged otherwise, do you know?"
"Pretty well. Your left shoulder is dislocated, one of your fingers and
two of your ribs broken, and one of your ankles severely contused. But it
might have been worse. If you had not thrown yourself from your horse, as
you did, you would just now be in a coffin instead of in this comfortable
bed."
"Somebody saw me, then?"
"Yes, the lodge-keeper. He thought you were dead, and came up and told us;
and we brought you here on a stretcher, and the Señor Coronel sent for a
doctor--"
"The Señor Coronel! Do you mean Mr. Fortescue?"
"Yes, sir, I mean Mr. Fortescue."
"Then you are Ramon?"
"_Hijo de Dios!_ You know my name."
"Yes, you are Mr. Fortescue's body-servant."
"Caramba! Somebody must have told you."
"You might have made a worse guess, Señor Ramon. Will you please tell Mr.
Fortescue that I thank him with all my heart for his great kindness, and
that I will not trespass on it more than I can possibly help. As soon as I
can be moved I shall go to my own place."
"That will not be for a long time, and I do not think the Señor Coronel
would like--But when he returns he will see you, and then you can tell him
yourself."
"He is away from home, then?"
"The Señor Coronel has gone to London. He will be back to-morrow."
"Well, if I cannot thank him to-day, I can thank you. You are my nurse,
are you not?"
"A little--Geist and I, and Mees Tomleenson, we relieve each other. But
those two don't know much about wounds."
"And you do, I suppose?"
"_Hijo de Dios!_ Do I know much about wounds? I have nursed men who have
been cut to pieces. I have been cut to pieces myself. Look!"
And with that Ramon pointed to his neck, which was seamed all the way down
with a tremendous scar; then to his left hand, which was minus two
fingers; next to one of his arms, which appeared to have been plowed from
wrist to elbow with a bullet; and lastly to his head, which was almost
covered with cicatrices, great and small.
"And I have many more marks in other parts of my body, which it would not
be convenient to show you just now," he said, quietly.
"You are an old soldier, then, Ramon?"
"Very. And now I will light myself a cigarette, and you will no more talk.
As an old soldier, I know that it is bad for a _caballero_ with a broken
head to talk so much as you are doing."
"As a surgeon, I know you are right, and I will talk no more for the
present."
And then, feeling rather drowsy, I composed myself to sleep. The last
thing I remembered before closing my eyes was the long, swarthy,
quixotic-looking face of my singular nurse, veiled in a blue cloud of
cigarette-smoke, which, as it rolled from the nostrils of his big,
aquiline nose, made those orifices look like the twin craters of an active
volcano, upside down.
When, after a short snooze, I woke a second time, my first sensation was
one of intense surprise, and being unable, without considerable
inconvenience, to rub my eyes, I winked several times in succession to
make sure that I was not dreaming; for while I slept the swart visage,
black eyes, and grizzled mustache of my nurse had, to all appearance, been
turned into a fair countenance, with blue eyes and a tawny head, while the
tiny cigarette had become a big meerschaum pipe.
"God bless me! You are surely not Ramon?" I exclaimed.
"No; I am Geist. It is my turn of duty as your nurse. Can I get you
anything?"
"Thank you very much; you are all very kind. I feel rather faint, and
perhaps if I had something to eat it might do me good."
"Certainly. There is some beef-tea ready. Here it is. Shall I feed you?"
"Thank you. My left arm is tied up, and this broken finger is very
painful. Bat I am giving you no end of trouble. I don't know how I shall
be able to repay you and Mr. Fortescue for all your kindness."
"_Ach Gott!_ Don't mention it, my dear sir. Mr. Fortescue said you were to
have every attention; and when a fellow-man has been broken all to pieces
it is our duty to do for him what we can. Who knows? Perhaps some time I
may be broken all to pieces myself. But I will not ride your fiery horses.
My weight is seventeen stone, and if I was to throw myself off a galloping
horse as you did, _ach Gott!_ I should be broken past mending."
Mr. Geist made an attentive and genial nurse, discoursing so pleasantly
and fluently that, greatly to my satisfaction (for I was very weak), my
part in the conversation was limited to an occasional monosyllable; but he
said nothing on the subject as to which I was most anxious for
information--Mr. Fortescue--and, as he clearly desired to avoid it, I
refrained from asking questions that might have put him in a difficulty
and exposed me to a rebuff.
I found out afterward that neither he nor Ramon ever discussed their
master, and though Mrs. Tomlinson, my third nurse (a buxom, healthy,
middle-aged widow, whose position seemed to be something between that of
housekeeper and upper servant), was less reticent, it was probably because
she had so little to tell.
I learned, among other things, that the habits of the household were
almost as regular as those of a regiment, and that the servants, albeit
kindly treated and well paid, were strictly ruled, even comparatively
slight breaches of discipline being punished with instant dismissal. At
half-past ten everybody was supposed to be in bed, and up at six; for at
seven Mr. Fortescue took his first breakfast of fruit and dry toast.
According to Mrs. Tomlinson (and this I confess rather surprised me) he
was an essentially busy man. His only idle time was that which he gave to
sleep. During his waking hours he was always either working in his study,
his laboratory, or his conservatories, riding and driving being his sole
recreations.
"He is the most active man I ever knew, young or old," said Mrs.
Tomlinson, "and a good master--I will say that for him. But I cannot make
him out at all. He seems to have neither kith nor kin, and yet--This is
quite between ourselves, Mr. Bacon--"
"Of course, Mrs. Tomlinson, quite."
"Well, there is a picture in his room as he keeps veiled and locked up in
a sort of shrine; but one day he forgot to turn the key, and I--I looked."
"Naturally. And what did you see?"
"The picture of a woman, dark, but, oh, so beautiful--as beautiful as an
angel.... I thought it was, may be, a sweetheart or something, but she is
too young for the likes of him."
"Portraits are always the same; that picture may have been painted ages
ago. Always veiled is it? That seems very mysterious, does it not?"
"It does; and I am just dying to know what the mystery is. If you should
happen to find out, and it's no secret, would you mind telling me?"
At this point Herr Geist appeared, whereupon Mrs. Tomlinson, with true
feminine tact, changed the subject without waiting for a reply.
During the time I was laid up Mr. Fortescue came into my room almost every
day, but never stayed more than a few minutes. When I expressed my sense
of his kindness and talked about going home, he would smile gravely, and
say:
"Patience! You must be my guest until you have the full use of your limbs
and are able to go about without help."
After this I protested no more, for there was an indescribable something
about Mr. Fortescue which would have made it difficult to contradict him,
even had I been disposed to take so ungrateful and ungracious a part.
At length, after a weary interval of inaction and pain, came a time when I
could get up and move about without discomfort, and one fine frosty day,
which seemed the brightest of my life, Geist and Ramon helped me
down-stairs and led me into a pretty little morning-room, opening into one
of the conservatories, where the plants and flowers had been so arranged
as to look like a sort of tropical forest, in the midst of which was an
aviary filled with parrots, cockatoos, and other birds of brilliant
plumage.
Geist brought me an easy-chair, Ramon a box of cigarettes and the "Times,"
and I was just settling down to a comfortable read and smoke, when Mr.
Fortescue entered from the conservatory. He wore a Norfolk jacket and a
broad-brimmed hat, and his step was so elastic, and his bearing so
upright, and he seemed so strong and vigorous withal, that I began to
think that in estimating his age at sixty I had made a mistake. He looked
more like fifty or fifty-five.
"I am glad to see you down-stairs," he said, helping himself to a
cigarette. "How do you feel?"
"Very much better, thank you, and to-morrow or the next day I must
really--"
"No, no, I cannot let you go yet. I shall keep you, at any rate, a few
days longer. And while this frost lasts you can do no hunting. How is the
shoulder?"
"Better. In a fortnight or so I shall be able to dispense with the sling,
but my ankle is the worst. The contusion was very severe. I fear that I
shall feel the effects of it for a long time."
"That is very likely, I think. I would any time rather have a clean flesh
wound than a severe contusion. I have had experience of both. At Salamanca
my shoulder was laid open with a sabre-stroke at the very moment my horse
was shot under me; and my leg, which was terribly bruised in the fall, was
much longer in getting better than my shoulder."
"At Salamanca! You surely don't mean the battle of Salamanca?"
"Yes, the battle of Salamanca."
"But, God bless me, that is ages ago! At the beginning of the
century--1810 or 1812, or something like that."
"The battle of Salamanca was fought on the 21st of July, 1812," said my
host, with a matter-of-fact air.
"But--why--how?" I stammered, staring at him in supreme surprise. "That is
sixty years since, and you don't look much more than fifty now."
"All the same I am nearly fourscore," said Mr. Fortescue, smiling as if
the compliment pleased him.
"Fourscore, and so hale and strong! I have known men half your age not
half so vigorous and alert. Why, you may live to be a hundred."
"I think I shall, probably longer. Of course barring accidents, and if I
continue to avoid a peril which has been hanging over me for half a
century or so, and from which I have several times escaped only by the
skin of my teeth."
"And what is the peril, Mr. Fortescue?"
"Assassination."
"Assassination!"
"Yes, assassination. I told you a short time ago that I was once hunted by
a pack of hounds. I am hunted now--have been hunted for two
generations--by a family of murderers."
The thought occurred to me--and not for the first time--that Mr. Fortescue
was either mad or a Munchausen, and I looked at him curiously; but neither
in that calm, powerful, self-possessed face, nor in the steady gaze of
those keen dark eyes, could I detect the least sign of incipient insanity
or a boastful spirit.
"You are quite mistaken," he said, with one of his enigmatic smiles. "I am
not mad; and I have lived too long either to cherish illusions or conjure
up imaginary dangers."
"I--I beg your pardon, Mr. Fortescue--I had no intention," I stammered,
quite taken aback by the accuracy with which he had read, or guessed, my
thoughts--"I had no intention to cast a doubt on what you said. But who
are these people that seek your life? and why don't you inform the
police?"
"The police! How could the police help me?" exclaimed Mr. Fortescue, with
a gesture of disdain, "Besides, life would not be worth having at the
price of being always under police protection, like an evicting Irish
landlord. But let us change the subject; we have talked quite enough about
myself. I want to talk about you."
A very few minutes sufficed to put Mr. Fortescue in possession of all the
information he desired. He already knew something about me, and as I had
nothing to conceal, I answered all his questions without reserve.
"Don't you think you are rather wasting your life?" he asked, after I had
answered the last of them.
"I am enjoying it."
"Very likely. People generally do enjoy life when they are young. Hunting
is all very well as an amusement, but to have no other object in life
seems--what shall we say?--just a little frivolous, don't you think?"
"Well, perhaps it does; but I mean, after a while, to buy a practice and
settle down."
"But in the mean time your medical knowledge must be growing rather rusty.
I have heard physicians say that it is only after they have obtained their
degree that they begin to learn their profession. And the practice you get
on board these ships cannot amount to much."
"You are quite right," I said, frankly, for my conscience was touched. "I
am, as you say, living too much for the present. I know less than I knew
when I left Guy's. I could not pass my 'final' over again to save my life.
You are quite right: I must turn over a new leaf."
"I am glad to hear you say so, the more especially as I have a proposal to
make; and as I make it quite as much in my own interest as in yours, you
will incur no obligation in accepting it. I want you to become an inmate
of my house, help me in my laboratory, and act as my secretary and
domestic physician, and when I am away from home, as my representative.
You will have free quarters, of course; my stable will be at your disposal
for hunting purposes, and you may go sometimes to London to attend
lectures and do practical work at your hospital. As for salary--you can
fix it yourself, when you have ascertained by actual experience the
character of your work. What do you say?"
Mr. Fortescue put this question as if he had no doubt about my answer, and
I fulfilled his expectation by answering promptly in the affirmative. The
proposal seemed in every way to my advantage, and was altogether to my
liking; and even had it been less so I should have accepted it, for what I
had just heard greatly whetted my curiosity, and made me more desirous
than ever to know the history of the extraordinary man with whom I had so
strangely come in contact, and ascertain the secret of his wealth.
The same day I wrote to Alston announcing the dissolution of our
partnership, and leaving him to deal with the horses at Red Chimneys as he
might think fit.