Doctor Lawrence's first action on getting his patient quieted down, was
to telegraph off to town for a colleague, and an attendant from the
asylum of a friend; but it was too late to expect assistance that night,
and so as to be prepared in case of another terrible scene, the
gardener's aid was called in, the man willingly offering to help and sit
up with the doctor, to watch.
"You will stay, too, Mr Harrington?" said Mrs Hampton. "Gertrude, my
dear, why do you not speak?"
The poor girl gave her old friend a reproachful look, which spoke
volumes.
"I should have offered to stay," said George, "but I felt a delicacy
about so doing, and it seemed as if I should be forcing my presence
here."
"If in this time of terrible distress and anxiety," said Gertrude with
quiet dignity, "Mr George Harrington will stay and help us, we shall be
most grateful."
"I can't make a pretty speech in return for that, Miss Bellwood," he
replied, "but you know how much more comfortable I shall be to know that
you are all safe."
"It will be trespassing sadly upon you," said Gertrude, in formal tones.
"Yes, terribly," he said drily. "But it suits me exactly, for I want to
sit down and think."
He had plenty of time for thought during the long hours of that painful
night. The ladies ostensibly went off to bed, while the gentlemen
occupied the dining-room, the doctor rising from time to time to go in
to see his patient, who lay in a complete stupor--overcome for the time
being by the potency of the medicine which had been administered.
It was a slow, dreary watch, for all were more or less exhausted by the
struggle which they had had, but no one complained, and three o'clock
had arrived when, on going once more into the study, the doctor found
that the gardener was nodding.
"You will have to go and lie down, my man," said the doctor coldly.
"Beg pardon, sir; very sorry," said the man apologetically. "Bit
drowsy, but if you'd stop here a quarter of an hour while I go and walk
round the yard and garden, kill a few slugs, and have a quiet pipe, I
shall come back as fresh as a daisy."
"Very well, my man, go; but tell the gentlemen in the dining-room
first."
The gardener went out into the kitchen, filled his pipe, took the
matches from the chimney-piece, and went out, telling himself that this
were the rummest start he knew, and wondering what master would say if
he came back and found Mr Saul ill there.
Meanwhile George Harrington sat in the dining-room thinking over the
problem he had set himself to solve, till he felt perfectly convinced
that Saul had, for some reason, had an encounter with the dog, been
severely bitten, and had then nearly killed his assailant, leaving him
for dead.
He was just hard at work, trying whether it was possible to connect this
with his enemy's disappearance, when he became aware of the fact that
after nodding very peacefully, as if bowing to the counterfeit
resemblance of his old friend on the wall, the lawyer suddenly sat up
with a jerk.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said confusedly; "I am not used to this
sort of thing."
"Then lie down on the sofa and have a nap, sir," said the young man
quietly.
"No, I am not going to give in; but do you know, Mr Blank, I think a
cigar and a good glass of toddy would be pleasant, soothing, stimulating
and everything good one could say of it."
"Yes, it would be pleasant," said George Harrington smiling.
"Then I shall take the liberty, as executor, and poor old James
Harrington's friend, of helping myself."
"Easier to propose than to perform," said the old lawyer, after an
examination. "Sideboard, cupboards, cellarettes and sarcophagus all
locked up. Can't rouse the ladies; it would be brutal. But I tell you
what; I know. Come with me."
He led the way into the hall, lit a candle, and, leaving it on the slab,
went softly into the study, followed by George.
"Still asleep?" he whispered.
"Yes, and calmer," was the reply.
"Look here, Lawrence, I've been thinking that a glass of toddy and one
of the old Partagas apiece would be good medicine, eh? Excusable under
the circumstances?"
"My dear Hampton, you ought to have been a physician," said the doctor
smiling.
"There, Mr Blank," whispered the old lawyer, rubbing his hands;
"indorsed by the faculty. Here are the cigars," he said, opening the
cabinet and taking out a box; "and here is a spirit-stand, but it is
empty, I know; but I thought of going to the cellar and getting a bottle
of that old Cognac from the far bin. Would you mind letting me reach to
that drawer? Bless my heart, I seem to be quite at home in the old
place."
He opened the drawer, took out the cellar keys softly, nodded to the
doctor, and, followed by George Harrington, went out, closed the door
carefully, and then descended the passage and the few steps leading to
the cellar door.
"Now, I do not hold, Mr Blank," said the old man, pausing, candle in
one hand, keys in the other, before the door, "that you are the rightful
heir here; but I do say this, that the real Simon Pure will own as fine
a cellar of wine as any man in the country."
"Many a good bottle of which, my dear sir, I hope we shall discuss."
"Ah, that remains to be proved. Would you mind holding the candle?
Thanks. Look like burglars or debauchees, opening cellars at this time
of the night; but my poor old friend had some very choice Cognac. Come
along. Now, the other door. Hold up the light. Bin number
twenty-four. Bless my soul, what's that?"
A long, low, dismal howl close behind them nearly made the lawyer drop
the long-necked bottle.
"That dog escaped?" cried George Harrington excitedly; and as there was
a panting noise, he caught at the collar of the dimly-seen dog as it
came by him; but instead of struggling, the great beast rose upon its
hind legs, planted its paws upon his breast, threw up its head again,
and uttered its dismal howl.
"The gardener must have let him out," said George quickly.
"And Saul Harrington must be dead," said the old lawyer, in a solemn
whisper, which seemed to run along the roof of the gloomy, crypt-like
place.