THE COTTAGE.
When Despard had bound Clark he returned to look after Langhetti. He lay
feebly and motionless upon the ground. Despard carefully examined his
wounds. His injuries were very severe. His arms were lacerated, and his
shoulder torn; blood also was issuing from a wound on the side of his
neck. Despard bound these as best he could, and then sat wondering what
could be done next.
He judged that he might be four or five miles from Denton, and saw that
this was the place to which he must go. Besides, Beatrice was there,
and she could nurse Langhetti. But how could he get there?--that was the
question. It was impossible for Langhetti to go on horseback. He tried
to form some plan by which this might be done. He began to make a sort
of litter to be hung between two horses, and had already cut down with
his knife two small trees or rather bushes for this purpose, when the
noise of wheels on the road before him attracted his attention.
It was a farmer’s wagon, and it was coming from the direction of Denton.
Despard stopped it, explained his situation, and offered to pay any
thing if the farmer would turn back and convey his friend and his
prisoner to Denton. It did not take long to strike a bargain; the farmer
turned his horses, some soft shrubs and ferns were strewn on the bottom
of the wagon, and on these Langhetti was deposited carefully. Clark,
who by this time had come to himself, was put at one end, where he
sat grimly and sulkily; the three horses were led behind, and Despard,
riding on the wagon, supported the head of Langhetti on his knees.
Slowly and carefully they went to the village. Despard had no difficulty
in finding the cottage. It was where the letter had described it. The
village inn stood near on the opposite side of the road.
It was about nine o’clock in the evening when they reached the cottage.
Lights were burning in the windows. Despard jumped out hastily and
knocked. A servant came. Despard asked for the mistress, and Beatrice
appeared. As she recognized him her face lighted up with joy. But
Despard’s face was sad and gloomy. He pressed her hand in silence and
said:
“My dear adopted sister, I bring you our beloved Langhetti.”
“Langhetti!” she exclaimed, fearfully.
“He has met with an accident. Is there a doctor in the place? Send your
servant at once.”
Beatrice hurried in and returned with a servant.
“We will first lift him out,” said Despard. “Is there a bed ready?”
“Oh yes! Bring him in!” cried Beatrice, who was now in an agony of
suspense.
She hurried after them to the wagon. They lifted Langhetti out and took
him into a room which Beatrice showed them. They tenderly laid him on
the bed. Meanwhile the servant had hurried off for a doctor, who soon
appeared.
Beatrice sat by his bedside; she kissed the brow of the almost
unconscious sufferer, and tried in every possible way to alleviate his
pain. The doctor soon arrived, dressed his wounds, and left directions
for his care, which consisted chiefly in constant watchfulness.
Leaving Langhetti under the charge of Beatrice, Despard went in search
of a magistrate. He found one without any difficulty, and before an hour
Clark was safe in jail. The information which Despard lodged against him
was corroborated by the brands on his back, which showed him to be a man
of desperate character, who had formerly been transported for crime.
Despard next wrote a letter to Mrs. Thornton. He told her about
Langhetti, and urged her to come on immediately and bring Edith
with her. Then he returned to the cottage and wished to sit up with
Langhetti. Beatrice, however, would not let him. She said that no
one should deprive her of the place by his bedside. Despard remained,
however, and the two devoted equal attention to the sufferer. Langhetti
spoke only once. He was so faint that his voice was scarce audible.
Beatrice put her ear close to his mouth.
“What is it?” asked Despard.
“He wants Edith,” said Beatrice.
“I have written for her,” said Despard.
Beatrice whispered this to Langhetti. An ecstatic smile passed over his
face.
“It is well,” he murmured.