"'E've done it now, sor, an' I hope ye're satisfied!" said James,
sitting complacently on his saddle, and looking at the plunging horses,
his fellow-servant with one leg entangled in the harness, and the havoc
made at each plunge of the uppermost beast.
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed Brace, furiously, as he leaped down. "Why
didn't you give more room? Here, come and help!"
"Can't lave me bastes, sor, or they'd take fright, they're so full of
sperrit," said the youth, coolly, as, running to the prostrate chaise,
Brace contrived to drag open the door, feeling, as he did so, that he
was alone to blame for the accident.
"Here, quick! my child! help her first," exclaimed the gentleman, but
most needlessly, for the young man had neither look nor thought for him,
but was striving to lift the insensible and bleeding form of the wounded
girl from the wreck. For at the first crash of the overturning chaise
the window had been driven in, and one of the splinters of glass had
gashed her temple.
"Good Heavens! what have I done?" muttered Brace, as he succeeded in
passing his arms round the senseless form, lifted it by main force from
the door, and then bore it to the grass a few yards further on, where,
laying it down, he proceeded to press his handkerchief to the wound.
"Let me come, young man," said a harsh voice at his elbow, and, starting
with surprise, Brace saw that the gentleman, till now forgotten, had
climbed from the chaise, and now made no scruple in thrusting him aside
to take his place.
"What can I do? Had I not better gallop off for a doctor?"
"Thank you, no," was the cold reply, as the gentleman, for an instant,
looked the tenderer of service full in the face. "This is no scene from
a romance, sir. You need trouble yourself no further. My daughter is
more frightened than hurt, I dare say."
"A cold-hearted, unfeeling brute," muttered Brace to himself, for he was
greatly excited, and felt at that moment as if he would have given the
world to have been allowed to kneel there and support the inanimate
form. For a moment he felt ready to make confession that he had been
the cause of the accident, but that he felt would be folly; and once
more, heedless of the cold reception his offers met with, he proposed
that a doctor should be fetched.
"If I required a medical man, sir," said the gentleman, "there is the
post-boy, my paid servant, that I could send for one: unless," he said,
tauntingly, "you, sir, wish to earn something more than my thanks."
The colour rose to the young man's cheek as he met the cold, glittering
eye turned to him for a moment; but he smothered the resentment he could
not avoid feeling, and, without a word, turned away to a clear part of
the ditch, returning, in a few minutes, with his navy cloth cap half
full of water.
The gentleman frowned as he saw this favour forced upon him as he
thought, and unwillingly accepting it, he sprinkled the white face, and
bathed the forehead, wiping away the ruddy stains, and binding a
handkerchief tightly across the wound. But for awhile there were no
signs of returning animation, and once more, in spite of the scowl upon
the fathers face, Brace Norton hurried away to bring more water.
"There is a faint shade of colour returning now," exclaimed Brace,
eagerly.
"Then perhaps you will have the goodness to retire, sir," said the
gentleman, haughtily. "My daughter is not accustomed to the society of
strangers; and, at such a time, your presence would be a fresh shock."
"But this is a lonely place, sir. You are miles away from any aid.
Pray let me endeavour to be of some service. Surely I can help you."
"I thank you, no," was the cold reply.
"But for the lady's sake, sir," exclaimed Brace, almost indignantly.
"You will take my chaise, and continue your journey?"
"Young man," was the rude answer, "I am not in the habit of placing
myself under obligations to strangers. I shall not require your chaise:
I have no doubt, with the help of some of the labourers about, our own
vehicle can be set right in a very short time."
"Sure, sor, the short time will be a month," said Brace's post-boy; "the
hint wheel's off intirely, and Jerry Stone siz as the harness is all to
tatthers, an' he wants to know if aither of ye gentlemen have got a drop
of brandy wid ye, for the poor boy feels faint."
In effect, the other post-boy was seated upon a bank beside his now
extricated horses--set free by the liberal use of a knife amongst the
harness; and it was evident, from the way in which the poor fellow was
rocking himself to and fro, that he was in great pain; while a glance at
the wretched chaise showed the impossibility of making use of it for
further proceeding upon that day.
But Brace Norton possessed something of the irrepressible in his
composition, and, speaking gently, he said, addressing the late speaker:
"I am aware, sir, that it is unpleasant to have favours forced upon you
by a complete stranger, but let me beg of you not to let the little I
offer be looked upon in the light of a favour. For the young lady's
sake, pray make use of my chaise, and leave me to take my chance. I
dare not presume to offer you advice, but would not a reference to some
medical man be advisable? This long-continued swoon--"
Brace Norton said no more, for, glancing from father to daughter as he
spoke, he became aware that sensibility had returned, and that a pair of
soft, sad, dreamy eyes were fixed upon him, but only for their lids to
be lowered, and a faint blush to overspread the pallid cheeks upon her
seeing that her gaze was observed.
"Do you feel in pain?" said the gentleman, bending over her, but paying
no heed to Brace Norton's remarks.
"No, papa; only a little faint. But you are not hurt?"
"No, no; not at all." Then, in an undertone: "How very unfortunate!"
and he frowned at the shattered chaise as he would have done at its
driver.
Brace Norton was wise enough in his generation to see that the less he
said the less likely he would be to give offence; but a bitter feeling
of disappointment came over him as he found how completely his presence
was ignored.
"If it were not for that sweet girl he might walk," muttered the young
man; but the next moment his heart leaped with pleasure, when, after
standing thoughtfully for a few moments, and then glancing from his
daughter to the wreck and back again, the gentleman spoke somewhat more
courteously.
"Necessity forces me, sir, to accept the offer of your chaise for my--
for reasons of my own," he added, hastily. "I will make use of it on
condition that you allow me to pay any--"
"Good heavens, sir!" exclaimed Brace, as haughtily now as the stranger,
"give me credit for wishing to act as should one gentleman towards
another whom he sees with his jibboom--absurd!--whom he encounters in
distress--I beg pardon, I mean in--in a strait," exclaimed Brace,
desperately, for his nautical imagery did not find much favour. "I am
only a simple officer in the navy, and no doubt a sea life makes me
somewhat rude, but my offers of service are genuine, not mercenary."
The stranger bowed, and turned to his daughter, who was now standing at
his side.
"Take down that portmanteau," exclaimed Brace to the post-boy.
"Yes, sor!" And after a good deal of grunting, unbuckling, and lifting
it was placed by the road side.
"If you will allow me," said Brace, "I will see that the damaged chaise
is sent back to its owner."
He turned then to hand the lady into the vehicle, but he was motioned
back: not, though, without receiving from her a faint smile of thanks.
"My daughter needs no assistance further than I can render," was the
stern response to Brace's offer. "Your handkerchief, sir!"
Brace took the handkerchief handed to him, as if the donor were about to
strike him down. Then he drew back as father and daughter entered the
chaise, so that he did not catch the order given to the post-boy. Then
there was a stiff salutation from the gentleman; a slight bow from the
lady; and the horses had started, leaving Brace, bareheaded, handsome,
and flushed, standing in the road, till, suddenly the front windows were
dashed down, the door partly opened, and, evidently suffering from some
strong emotion, the face of the gentleman appeared to be turned the next
moment towards the post-boy, as he roared, in a voice of thunder:
"Stop!"
Book 2, Chapter III.