"Don't, don't; you're killing me."
At that moment a thin, keen-looking woman of about thirty rushed out of
the cottage, her eyes wild and staring, and her face blanched, while her
hands and apron were horribly stained.
"I can't bear it," she cried; "I can't bear it!" and she flung herself
upon her knees in the stony road, and covered her face with her hands,
sobbing hysterically.
The sight of the suffering woman roused Claude to action; and as she
took a couple of steps forward, and with the tears falling fast, laid
her hand upon the woman's shoulder, a low murmur arose among the men,
and Glyddyr saw that they drew back respectfully, several turning right
away.
"Sarah, my poor Sarah," said Claude, bending low.
At the tender words of sympathy and the touch of the gentle hands, the
woman let her own fall from her face, and stared up appealingly at the
speaker.
Claude involuntarily shrank away from the ghastly face, for the hands
had printed hideous traces upon the woman's brow.
The shrinking away was momentary, for, recovering herself. Claude drew
her handkerchief from her pocket, to turn in surprise as it was drawn
from her hand, but she directly gave Glyddyr a grateful look, as she saw
him step to a rough granite trough into which a jet of pure water was
pouring from the cliff, and saturating it quickly, he returned the
handkerchief to its owner.
But before the blood stains could be removed, the voice of the injured
man was heard calling.
"Sarah! Don't leave me, my girl. He has murdered me."
The woman gave Claude a wild look, rose from her knees, and tottered
back to the cottage as the voice of Gartram was heard in angry retort.
"Its like talking to a madman, Ike Woodham," came clear and loud; "but
you've got hurt by your own wilful obstinacy, and you want to throw the
blame on me."
As he spoke, Gartram strode out of the cottage, and then whispered to
his child,--
"Come home, my dear. You can do no good."
"No, no; not yet, papa," she whispered. "I must try if I can help poor
Sarah in her terrible trouble."
A low murmur arose from the little crowd, and this seemed to excite
Gartram.
"Well," he cried fiercely, "what does that mean? It was his own fault--
in direct opposition to my orders; and this is not the first accident
through your own folly."
The low, angry muttering continued.
"Here, come away, Claude," cried Gartram fiercely, as he looked round at
the lowering faces.
"He has murdered me, I tell you!" came from the open cottage door.
"Bah!" ejaculated Gartram angrily, and he strode away, but returned
directly.
"Are you coming, my girl?"
"Yes, papa, soon. Let me see if I can be of use."
"Look here, Mr Glyddyr," said Gartram, speaking in a low, excited
voice, "I can't stop. I shall be saying things that will make them mad.
See after Claude, and bring her home. The senseless idiots! If a man
bruises himself with his own hammer, it is blamed on me."
He strode away, and ignoring Glyddyr's presence, Claude was moving
softly toward the door, when the man who had brought the message held
out his hand to arrest her.
"Don't go in, dear bairn," he said in a husky whisper; "it isn't for the
likes of you to see."
"Thank you, Wolfe," she said calmly, "I am not afraid."
But at that moment, as Glyddyr was about to make a protest, a
quiet-looking, gentlemanly man appeared at the door turning down his
cuffs, the perspiration glistening upon his high white forehead as he
came out into the sun.
"No, no, my dear child," he said in a whisper, as a low moaning came
from within and seemed to be followed by the low soft washing of the
waves below. "You can do no good."
"Is--is he very bad, Doctor Asher?" asked Claude.
He looked at her for an instant or two without replying, and then bent
his head.
"Oh!" ejaculated Claude, with a low cry of pain.
"Terribly crushed, my dear; better leave them together alone."
"But--you do not think--oh, Doctor Asher, you can save him?"
"Is it so bad as that, sir?" whispered Glyddyr, as he saw the peculiar
look in the doctor's face. "Couldn't you--with more help--shall I
send?"
"My dear sir," said the doctor in a low voice, "half a dozen of the
crack London surgeons couldn't save him."
"Oh!" sighed Claude again. "But a clergyman. Mr Glyddyr, would you go
into Danmouth?"
"Better not, my dear child," said the doctor quietly. "You know their
peculiar tenets. His wife was praying with him when I came out."
As if to endorse the doctor's words, the low, constant murmur of a voice
was heard from within, and from time to time a gasping utterance was
heard, and then twice over the word "Amen."
Just then Claude stepped softly toward the open doorway, and sank upon
her knees with her hands clasped, and her face turned up appealingly
toward the sunny sky, while all around seemed full of life, and hope,
though the black shadow of death was closing in upon the humble roof.
And as Glyddyr saw the sweet, pure, upturned face, with its closed eyes,
he involuntarily took off his hat, and gazed wistfully, with something
very near akin to love seeming to swell within his breast.
The silence was very deep, though the murmur from the cottage continued,
till, in the midst of what seemed to be a painful pause, a loud and
bitter wail came upon the stillness, and the doctor hurriedly stepped
within.
"Poor Ike's cottage is to let, mates," said a rough, low voice; "who
wants to make a change?"
"Dead?" asked Claude, with a motion of her lips, as after a short space
the doctor returned.
"No; the draught I have given him to dull the pain has had effect: he is
asleep."
"And when he awakes, Doctor Asher?" whispered Claude, as she clung to
his arm.
The doctor shook his head.
"Can you do nothing?"
"Only try to lull the pain," was the reply. And then quickly, "Wanted
somewhere else?"
This last was to himself as a man was seen running toward them, and
Claude turned if possible paler as she recognised one of the servants
from the Fort.
He ran up breathlessly.
"Miss Claude--Doctor Asher," he panted. "Come at once. Master's got
another of his fits."
Volume One, Chapter V.