An Accident
After breakfast Githa and Gwethyn, having the whole of Saturday morning
at their disposal, resolved to go mushrooming. The warm weather had
brought out a fairly plentiful crop, and they hoped, by diligent
searching, to be able to fill at least a small can. The pastures were
generally scoured early by people from the village, who sold the
mushrooms in Carford at a good price.
"We ought to have thought of it first thing, when we were riding to the
Grange," said Githa. "I'm afraid we shall find the best places have been
cleared. To get mushrooms one almost has to sit up all night and watch
them grow. Everybody's so keen on them just now. Still, I think I know
of one or two fields that are worth going to, on the chance that no one
else has been there already."
The meadows which Githa proposed to visit lay near the river, about
half-way between The Gables and Heathwell. The prospect of finding
mushrooms there was rendered more promising on this particular day
because most of the village children were helping to gather the bean
harvest, and would therefore be busily employed elsewhere. The July
heat was already ripening some of the corn, and before long the reapers
would be at work.
"It's a pity gleaning has gone so completely," said Gwethyn; "it must
have looked so delightfully romantic. None of the village people are
half so picturesque as those in the old pictures. Even Mrs. Gartley
wears a dilapidated but still fashionable hat, which she bought at a
rummage sale, and Mrs. Blundell's daughter makes hay in the relics of a
once gorgeous evening blouse and a voile skirt, instead of a print
bed-gown and striped petticoat. I suppose people must keep pace with the
times, but from an artistic point of view I wish their clothes were more
suitable to their occupations."
"It's no use mourning over vanished customs. We don't defy the fashions
and appear in Sir Joshua Reynolds costumes. Granny Blundell, at any
rate, is picturesque in her apron and sun-bonnet. She made a splendid
model for Katrine's picture of the old spice cupboard."
"The cupboard she's stolen from you!"
"No, no! She bought it fairly and squarely from Mrs. Stubbs. As I told
you before, I'm glad for her to have it, since I can't have it myself.
How hot it's getting! I believe I'm tired with going out riding so
early. I shall feel in better spirits when I've found some mushrooms. A
penny for the first who sees any!"
"And who's to give the penny?"
"Why, the other, of course!"
"Suppose one sees the mushroom and the other picks it. What then?"
"Oh, I don't know! It would be like the fable of the two boys and the
walnut."
"And what do 'toadstools' count?" asked Gwethyn mischievously.
"A penny on the wrong side, decidedly."
The best and richest meadows for mushrooms lay a little distance from
the highroad, in a hollow not far from the bank of the river, and beyond
a coppice which was enclosed with wire-fencing and strictly preserved. A
pathway led through the edge of this wood, and the girls, anxious to
avail themselves of a short cut, turned their steps in that direction.
Githa, who was walking first, stopped for a moment to admire a lovely
clump of silver birches which, with gleaming white stems and shimmering
leaves, stood as outposts of the wood. A blackbird--always the sentinel
of the wild--flew from the hedge, clattering a noisy warning of her
approach, and roused a cock pheasant, that whirred almost over her head
in his flight for the open. Laughing at the start it gave her, she
climbed lightly up the steps of the stile, but at the top she paused,
and suddenly drew back, all her merriment gone in a flash. From the
farther side of the fence, down among the bracken and the brambles, she
had heard a groan, an unmistakably human groan, with a faint cry after
it that sounded something like "Help!"
"Gwethyn," she said, with a decided tremble in her voice, "I believe
there's somebody lying down there!"
"Is there? Let me look! Oh, I say! It's a man, and I'm afraid he's
hurt."
[Illustration: "'I BELIEVE I'VE BROKEN MY LEG,' HE MOANED"]
Gwethyn did not delay a moment to hop after Githa over the stile. A
figure in corduroy trousers and an old tweed jacket lay prostrate in the
hedge bottom. At first sight the girls feared he was drunk, but one
glance at his white face showed that he needed their help. He raised
himself rather shakily upon his elbow as they made their appearance. His
cheeks were drawn with pain, and his eyes were like those of a snared
animal; but they had no difficulty in recognizing Bob Gartley.
"What's the matter? Have you hurt yourself?" asked Githa briefly.
"Oh! Thank goodness anyone's come! I believe I've broken my leg," he
moaned.
"Did you fall?"
"Yes, and I can't move an inch, not even to drag myself along. I've been
lying here all night, and I thought I was goin' to die like a rabbit in
a trap. I shouted and shouted, but there weren't no one to hear, and
then I couldn't shout no more. I'd give the world for a drop of water,"
he added feebly, sinking back on the bracken, and half-closing his eyes.
"I'll fetch some directly," cried Gwethyn, seizing the can which they
had brought as a receptacle for the mushrooms, and rushing frantically
in the direction of the river. She was quite unused to illness, and had
never seen an accident before, so Bob Gartley's haggard face filled her
with alarm. Suppose he were to die out there in the wood, before any aid
could be secured! The horror of the thought lent wings to her feet.
Without stopping to consider her dread of bulls, she climbed a high
fence, and plunging recklessly through a drove of formidable-looking
bullocks, reached the bank, and dipped her tin in the river, returning
to the stile as quickly as she had come. Bob Gartley was still
alive--that was a mercy--but he was lying groaning in the most terrible
manner. Githa, looking very scared, was supporting his head with her
arm. She seized the can from Gwethyn, and held it to his blue lips. A
long draught of the water seemed to revive him, and he opened his eyes
again.
"How be I a-goin' to get home?" he asked plaintively.
The question roused Githa to energy.
"We must do something to your leg first," she replied. "Gwethyn,
remember our Red Cross work, it's a case for first aid. Help me to find
some sticks, and we'll make splints. I shall want your handkerchief, and
that scarf off your hat. I'm so glad I put on a soft belt this
morning--that will help!"
It was easy enough to find sticks in the coppice for amateur splints,
and Githa set to work with the best skill she could, binding the pieces
of wood firmly on each side of the broken leg, with handkerchiefs, Bob's
neck-tie, Gwethyn's scarf, and her own belt. The patient moaned
considerably during the operation, but he seemed on the whole grateful.
"I might 'a died if you hadn't chanced to come by," he remarked. "I've
had a night of it!"
"How did you manage to fall?" asked Gwethyn.
"I don't know. I suppose I caught my foot in the dark, gettin' over yon
stile."
Githa forbore to ask for what purpose he had been visiting a game
preserve at nightfall, and turned her attention to the more imminent
and practical consideration of how to convey him home.
"I must fetch help at once," she said. "I believe we're quite close to
Mr. Cooper's poultry farm. I'll run there, and try and get somebody to
come."
"Do. I'll stay here, then, with Mr. Gartley, for I don't think he ought
to be left alone, in case he turns faint again," agreed Gwethyn.
This poultry farm was within sight, at the top of a small hill. It was
certainly the nearest place at hand. Githa made a bee-line for it,
through hedges and over hurdles. If she tramped across the corner of a
cornfield, her errand was her excuse. Arrived at the house, she seized
the knocker, and gave, in her nervousness, a tremendously rousing
rap-tap. The door was opened by Mr. Cooper himself.
"Oh, please, there's been an accident!" gasped Githa in tones of tragic
staccato. "Bob Gartley has broken his leg. He's down in the wood there,
and we don't know what to do. Can you come?"
"Whew! That's a bad job. Of course I'll come. Perhaps I'd better bring a
little brandy with me. Yes, and something to carry him on, for it will
be the dickens to move him. My man will help; he's round now with the
hens. Between us, I should think we ought to be able to manage it; and
if not, we can fetch somebody from Pratt's farm."
"Perhaps I can carry something," said Githa. "Could I hurry back first
with the brandy?"
"No, no! If you don't mind waiting a second, I'll come with you. I don't
know where the fellow is."
"He's lying just by the stile that leads into the wood. You couldn't
miss the place."
"Right-o! Hello, Jack! Are you there? I want you. Bring two long
broom-handles, and follow me down to the birch coppice. No, never mind
the hens at present, they'll have to wait."
Leaving Githa for a moment on the door-step, Mr. Cooper darted into his
farm-house, emerging in an incredibly short space of time with a flask
in his hand and a blanket flung over his arm.
"It's Bob Gartley, you say?" he commented. "Oh, yes! I know the fellow
well enough--a disreputable scamp he is, too! He was in the coppice for
no good, you may be sure. Still, of course, we can't leave him there,
though it will be a doubtful benefit to his wife and family to cart him
back with a broken leg. If you consulted the gamekeeper, I expect he'd
prefer nailing him to a corner of the lodge, in company with a choice
collection of stoats, hawks, and owls. He certainly classes poachers
under the head of vermin."
They found Gwethyn looking out anxiously for them, and much relieved at
their arrival. Her patient had fainted after Githa left, and she had
been obliged to fetch more water from the river to revive him. He was
conscious now, but very weak, and scarcely able to speak.
"We'll soon have him home," said Mr. Cooper, pouring a few spoonfuls of
the brandy between his lips. "This will bring him round a little, you'll
see. Oh! There you are, Jack! Got the broom-sticks? That's all right.
Now we must manage to make a litter."
Mr. Cooper undoubtedly had a head upon his shoulders, and knew exactly
how to manage in the circumstances. He spread the blanket on the ground,
and with Jack's assistance lifted Bob Gartley on to it; then rolling
each side tightly along a broom handle, he contrived a kind of hammock,
on which it was possible to carry the unfortunate man. The first and
greatest difficulty was to get him out of the wood. It was hopeless to
think of lifting him over the stile, so they were obliged to beat down
the hedge, and make a gap sufficiently wide to admit their ambulance.
"We must explain it to the keeper afterwards," said Mr. Cooper. "It will
be comparatively easy now across the fields. Step with me, Jack, and
perhaps we shan't shake him so much. The poor chap's in awful pain. Now
then--left, right, left, right! We'll get him to the road, and then call
at Pratt's farm, and ask them to lend their cart. It would be difficult
to carry him all the way to Heathwell. The sooner he's home and the
doctor can set his leg the better, though I must say this first aid has
been splendid. If one of you young ladies don't mind taking the flask
out of my pocket, you might moisten his lips with the brandy; he looks
as if he were going to faint again."
The people at Pratt's farm were busy haymaking, but they put down their
rakes in stolid astonishment at the news of the accident, and after
turning the matter over for a short time in their rustic brains, agreed
to lend their horse and cart to convey the invalid home.
"We'll put a good layer of straw for him to lie on," said Mrs. Pratt.
"It'll save him from the jolting a bit. Yes, he be too big and heavy to
carry all the way to Heathwell on that blanket. My goodness! He do look
bad. I shouldn't be surprised to see him took. Lor'! It'll need be a
warning to him if he pulls round."
"So it will, for sure! It's sent as a judgment without doubt," agreed
Mr. Pratt, gazing with contemplative interest at the moaning victim,
laid temporarily by the roadside.
"I wish they'd think less about warnings and judgments, and be a little
quicker with the cart," whispered Githa.
"I'll offer to help them get it ready, that will probably hurry them,"
replied Mr. Cooper. "Country people have no idea of the value of time in
these cases, or, indeed, in any matter at all, as I often find to my
cost."
After what seemed an incredible waste of precious minutes, the cart was
at last brought out, and Bob lifted on to the pile of straw. Sending his
man back to feed the hens, Mr. Cooper decided to ride himself with the
invalid, while Githa and Gwethyn ran on to warn Mrs. Gartley of what had
occurred. They found the poor woman in a state of indescribable muddle,
doing some belated washing. Gwethyn, with a promise of sweets, managed
to cajole all the little ones from the cottage, while Githa broke the
news as gently as she could to the mother.
"I knew it 'ud come to this some day!" exclaimed Mrs. Gartley, flinging
her apron over her head, and collapsing in tears on to a chair. "I've
told him fifty times, if I've told him once, there'd no good happen from
the way he was carrying on, but he never would listen to I!"
"Have you got everything ready for him?" asked Githa. "He ought to lie
on a mattress, not a soft bed, Mr. Cooper says. I can hear the cart
coming now. As soon as they've brought him in, we must send a messenger
for the doctor."
It was such a limp, moaning burden which was carried upstairs, that Mrs.
Gartley broke into frantic hysterical sobs at the sight, and was no more
use than the children, who, scenting the fact that for some reason they
were being kept out of the way, evaded Gwethyn's blandishments, and tore
back into the cottage. The men, however, made the poor fellow as
comfortable as they could, and so many neighbours began to arrive that
there was soon far more help than was necessary.
"We may as well go," said Mr. Cooper to the two girls. "We've done all
we can, and he'll have to wait now for the doctor."
Bob was lying quite still, with his eyes shut, and his face as white as
his pillow, but he evidently heard that, for he roused himself.
"If it hadn't a-been for you, I'd ha' died in the wood," he said. "I
shan't forget."
Githa and Gwethyn had gathered not a single mushroom, but they were much
too excited even to think about them. They ran up to Aireyholme to tell
their news before they walked back to The Gables, and Miss Aubrey
promised to go at once to the Gartleys' cottage, to render what aid she
could. Mrs. Ledbury also was much concerned when she heard the girls'
report of their morning's adventure, and sent during the afternoon to
inquire about the invalid.
"He's a bad lot, that Bob Gartley," said Mr. Ledbury; "I have more than
a suspicion that he comes poaching into my woods. I've seen him skulking
about once or twice. Still, in the name of humanity, you're bound to
help a man, even if you find him with a hare in one pocket and a cock
pheasant in the other. You can't let him lie with a broken leg. I'm
sorry for his wife, poor thing!"