OF THE ADVANTAGES OF BEING WOUNDED
I SUPPOSE I must have lost more blood than I had reckoned upon, or else
the excitement of the pursuit had been sufficient to keep me going; but
whichever it was, no sooner had we pulled up than I collapsed. I was
never nearer fainting in my life. In fact I had to take another stiff
dose of whisky, and even then I was only too glad to relinquish the
steering-wheel to Forrest, and let him drive me the rest of the way
home. He never left me until I was safely in bed, and the surgeon he had
summoned had stitched me up.
Fortunately my wounds proved, as Forrest had foretold, more painful than
dangerous. The bullet had carried with it some shreds of cloth; and the
removal of these from my arm was the only really painful bit of work the
surgeon had to perform. However, the medical man insisted upon my
remaining in bed, and I obeyed his orders for a couple of days; but on
the third I felt so well that I rebelled against any further
confinement, and though still considerably sore, I managed to get out
and about.
I found I was a little bit shaky, yet I managed to get as far as
Colonel Mainland's house, and there I found my adventure had been a
blessing in disguise, for I could see from the manner in which she
greeted me, that my last encounter with the Pirate had wiped from Miss
Maitland's memory all remembrance of the previous occasion. There was
only one thing to mar my enjoyment of the situation thus created.
Mannering had unfortunately been successful in making himself a
candidate for similar solicitude. His injury, however, was even more
trivial than mine, the bullet having merely scored his shoulder. I
wished devoutly it had missed him altogether, or been a few inches
higher and more to the right; for in such case I should have had Miss
Maitland's undivided sympathies and attention, whereas I had perforce to
share them with my rival. I knew I had done nothing heroic; but if
Mannering had not been hit I might at least have posed as half a hero,
instead of which I had to be content with being a quarter of one.
However, I made the most of what glory I had earned, and I am bound to
confess that I traded upon my sore arm in the most shameless fashion.
Fortunately the Motor Pirate at this time entered upon a long period of
quiescence, so that I was free to make the most of my opportunity, and
to devote the whole of my time to Miss Maitland's society. The detective
was firmly of the opinion that this prolonged rest was due to one of our
shots having found its billet, and declared that we should hear nothing
more of him until he had repaired damages. The inaction, however, soon
became very wearisome to him; and when a fortnight had elapsed without a
single appearance having been chronicled, he became quite morose. By
that time he had searched over the whole district, but not a trace of
any other injured person could he discover; and he was as much at a loss
for a clue to the identity of the Pirate as he had been when he first
entered upon the job of running him to earth.
The Press by this time had nothing but jeers for the police and for the
detective force generally. Meantime the most extraordinary steps were
taken to secure the Pirate's arrest when he should renew his career. The
Automobile Club had officially lent their assistance to the police, and
night by night the principal roads of the county were patrolled by the
members of the club, thirsting for the opportunity of distinguishing
themselves by the capture of the marauder. The Pirate must have been
vastly amused in his retirement as he read of the sensation he had
created. I rather think that the man in the street looked upon the whole
matter as the great sporting event of the century, and his sympathies
were undoubtedly with the man who could so easily snap his fingers at
the army of police, amateur and professional, who were engaged in the
task of seeking him. In fact, if he had not committed the murder at
Towcester, I am convinced that the public would have elevated him to the
position of a great popular hero. Even as it was, he had no lack of
apologists; and an eminent ballad-monger celebrated his exploits in some
verses, which were immensely applauded when recited by long-haired
enthusiasts at smoking concerts and similar gatherings. All this was
gall to Forrest; and at last one day, three weeks after our encounter
with the Pirate, he told me he could stand it no longer.
"I must try another line of country," he remarked.
"What line do you propose?" I asked.
"The only thing I can think of," he replied, "is to make inquiries in
Amsterdam, to see if the diamonds which were taken from the mail, have
been offered for sale. I am quite certain they have not been put upon
the market this side of the water."
I was very loth to let him go alone; but he would not hear of my
accompanying him.
"What! run away now, and let your friend Mannering have a clear field? I
wouldn't if I were you," he remarked. "Besides, I can manage this sort
of work better by myself."
His final argument was conclusive, and he went away promising to look me
up immediately he returned, and expressing the hope that nothing more
would be heard of the Pirate until his return.
On the very same day it happened that Mannering also took his departure
from St. Stephens. I had mentioned in his hearing that Forrest had been
called away, and he had then informed us--Miss Maitland and myself--that
he had some business in Paris in connection with the patent tyre with
which he was still experimenting, which would entail his absence for two
or three days.
I sincerely trusted that his business would require a much longer
period to transact; and as he was leaving by an early train the next
morning, I took particular care he should obtain no opportunity for a
private leave-taking with Miss Maitland.
It was not a sporting thing to do, perhaps, but I was so much in earnest
about my love-making, that I had no scruples about spoiling as many of
my rival's chances as I could. However, as it happened, I found somewhat
to my surprise that my tactics were not unwelcome to Miss Maitland. She
confessed as much to me the next day. She---- But perhaps it will be
better for me to give in some detail the conversation we had upon this
occasion, since it had a considerable bearing upon after events.
The morning after Mannering had departed was as brilliant a one as June
ever bestowed upon mortal. Now that my rival was out of the way, I
thought I might dispense with the sling which I had worn hitherto, and
directly after breakfast I strolled across to the Maitlands', with the
intention of persuading Miss Maitland to come for a ride on the
Mercedes. I found her on the point of starting for a stroll, with the
object of giving her favourite Irish setter a run, and I was easily
persuaded to abandon my projected ride and accompany her instead. We
chose the footpath between St. Stephen's church and the village of Park
Street, and, stepping out briskly, we soon reached our destination; and
as my companion would not hear of turning back, we continued our walk to
Bricket Wood. There I insisted upon resting.
I had never seen her in higher spirits than she was that morning. She
bubbled over with gaiety. So much so that I could not help commenting
upon the fact.
"Yes," she replied frankly, in answer to my remarks on the subject, "I
do feel gay this morning. I feel as if a load had been removed from my
shoulders."
"Surely you can have no troubles," I remarked, half-banteringly.
A shadow alighted for a moment upon her face and was gone again.
"Nothing which ought to be a trouble. Nothing tangible and yet---- Oh,
Mr. Sutgrove, do you--have you ever experienced a presentiment of
something dreadful happening? No; that is not exactly what I mean. I
don't know how to explain myself without----"
Then she paused, and I discreetly kept silence. Presently she resumed.
"Men are so stupid, or I would tell you all about it. You would never
understand."
I saw my opening and made use of it. "We men may be stupid both
individually and collectively," I said. "But I can answer for one man
being sympathetic to anything you like to say to him."
She laughed. "I am so afraid you will think me silly."
"Miss Maitland--Evie----" I began.
"Hush!" She stopped me with an adorable smile. "You know you haven't
caught the Motor Pirate, yet."
I summoned up the most injured expression permitted by my contentment
with my surroundings and fell silent again.
"Poor boy!" she said mockingly. "It is unkind of me to remind you of
your vow, when you have already done your best to fulfil it."
"Not quite my best, yet," I muttered sullenly.
"Anyhow I think you have done quite enough to warrant my taking you into
my confidence."
She said this quite seriously, and glancing up at her, I saw she was
looking into a glade of the wood with a preoccupied expression on her
pretty face, which showed me that it was in reality no petty trouble
which worried her.
"This scene is so delightfully restful. I love the cool green lights and
the cool grey shadows of the woodlands in early summer," she remarked
absently.
I had no eyes for aught but the face of the speaker, though I was
indirectly conscious that there was a good deal of beauty in the wood.
To me it seemed an appropriate background, that was all.
"Yes," I said. "But about this presentiment of yours----"
"It is hardly a presentiment; in fact, I don't know what to call it,"
she replied. Then she turned and faced me. "Now listen. There's an
acquaintance of mine, whom I know very well and used to like a great
deal. Yes, I think I am right in saying used to like. Well, for some
undefined reason, my liking has change to something very like fear."
"For what reason?" I asked.
"None," she replied. "Absolutely there is no reason whatever."
"A case of Dr. Fell," I said. "Well, avoid your Dr. Fell."
"That is exactly what I am unable to do," she answered, and I could see
she was speaking truly. "This fear has grown up in some degree, I think,
from a subtle sort of consciousness that the person in question has it
in his power to exert a curious influence over me. I seem to be drawn
against my will into an attitude towards him which is not only against
my judgment, but also against my inclination."
"Him?" I asked. "Him? Is it Mannering?"
"Why, what made you think of him? Does he affect you in the same way?"
she said eagerly.
"Far from it," I replied. My first feeling was one of delight at
discovering that my rival was more feared than loved. But as I thought
over the matter, my astonishment grew. I had looked upon Mannering as a
rival, and as a favoured rival, but I was not prepared to hear that Evie
Maitland was afraid of him, or of any other man for the matter of that,
and I said so.
"A month ago, I should have laughed at the idea myself," she replied,
"but to-day----" She shuddered slightly. "Now you know why I feel so gay
this morning. The fact is, when on awakening this morning I realized
that I should be absolutely free from his presence for two whole days, I
hardly knew how to contain myself for joy."
"Surely you must have some grounds for fearing him, something in his
manner----"
"No. Yet I have thought--but it is nothing. When we have been alone
together he has sat once or twice staring at me. I try to speak to him,
but he sits and stares and stares, with his eyes so bright and all the
time so sombre--so penetrating that I feel that he sees quite through
me. Just like one does in those unpleasant dreams where one's clothes
have somehow disappeared. To-day, and now, it seems very silly, yet I am
certain I shall feel exactly the same the next time I meet him. Then
when he sees how confused I am he gives a sort of a laugh, an unpleasant
kind of a chuckle without any merriment in it."
"He's a d----d cad!" I cried hotly.
"I--I don't know," she answered. "I don't seem to mind at the time. It
is just as if I were in a dream, for I am so fascinated in watching him
that I have no thoughts left for myself. It is when he has gone that the
thought seems unpleasant. Then I always think I will never see him
again, but the next time he calls I feel bound to do so. There, now I
have confided in you, don't tell me I am a weak hysterical girl or I
really don't know what will happen to me."
She laid one of her little hands on my arm and looked imploringly into
my eyes.
"I know you are neither weak nor hysterical," I replied.
"You will help me, won't you?" she asked.
I took both hands in mine and looked straight into her eyes.
"The only way I see of helping you," I said deliberately, "is for you to
give me the right to do so."
She did not take her hands from my grasp.
* * * * *
"Do you know, Jim," she said an hour later, when we came out of the wood
into the meadow, "that I told you not to speak to me until you had
captured the Motor Pirate."
"You could not answer for me, darling," I replied. "But I should not
have done so if I----"
"Had not found the temptation to do so irresistible," she said, taking
the words out of my mouth with so bewitching an air, that again I found
an irresistible temptation confronting me.
We did not revert again to the curious influence which Evie had declared
Mannering exercised. She would not allow of it. She wanted to think that
he had gone completely out of her life, and that no more shadows were
ever to fall across her path. And I was too happy myself to wish to
refer to anything which should bring an unpleasant memory to her mind.
I shall never forget our walk home. The silver thread of the Ver, the
old monastery gate-house and the ruins of Sopwell Priory in the
foreground, the churches of St. Stephens and St Michaels on either hand,
and in the centre of the picture the Abbey of St. Albans brooding over
all. We decided to be married in the abbey. I trod on air.