CHAPTER XXIV.
I WANT LADYBIRD.
"So free we seem; so fettered fast we are." --BROWNING.
A low sun was gilding the hill-tops when two doolies, borne by sturdy_kahars_ and escorted by Wyndham and Mackay, passed between thegate-posts of Desmond's bungalow. Honor stood with Evelyn at the headof the verandah steps; but as the _kahars_ halted, and the officersprepared to dismount, she moved back a space, leaving her to welcomeher husband alone.
The blood ebbed from Evelyn's face as she watched Theo mount thesteps, slowly, uncertainly, supported on either side by Wyndham andthe doctor--he who, in normal circumstances, would have cleared themat a bound and taken her in his arms. His appearance alone struckterror into her heart. Was this the splendid-looking husband who hadridden away full of life and energy,--this strange seeming man, whoseface was disfigured and more than half-hidden by an unsightly bandageand a broad green shade; whose empty coat-sleeve, slashed andblood-stained, suggested too vividly the condition of the arm strappedinto place beneath?
It was all she could do not to shrink back instinctively when the menmoved aside, as Honor had done, to afford husband and wife some smallmeasure of privacy, and Theo held out his hand.
"They've sent me back rather the worse for wear, Ladybird," he said,with a smile; "but Mackay will put the pieces together in good time."
"Oh, Theo--I hope so!--It's dreadful to see you--like that."
The hand she surrendered to him was cold as ice; and the attempt atwelcome in her voice was checked by a paralysing fear and constraint.Thirty-six hours of severe pain in body and mind had failed to breakhis spirit; but the thing was achieved by a dozen words from his wife.He knew now what to expect from her; and for the moment he wasstricken speechless.
"I am so--sorry," she murmured, "about----"
"Yes--yes, I know," he took her up quickly; and there was an awkwardsilence.
"Who--what--is in that other doolie?" she asked, in a hurried whisper.
"The Boy."
"But, Theo--you're not going to----"
"For God's sake shut up!"
He swayed a little in speaking, and promptly Paul was at his side. Noone had heard what passed; and when Mackay, returning to his post bythe wounded arm, gently urged Desmond forward, Paul signalled toEvelyn to take his place, while he went back to the doolie.
"Just a minute, Mrs Desmond," he said in a low tone.
Evelyn, startled by the request, stood irresolute; and since there wasno time for hesitancy, Honor came forward and put her hand underTheo's elbow. She felt a jar go all through him at her touch, and knewthat he had heard Wyndham's request.
"Ah, Honor," he said, by way of greeting, "I'm afraid I've come back amere log on your hands."
An undernote of bitterness in his tone gave her courage to speak thethought in her mind. "We are only too thankful to have got you backsafe--in any condition," she murmured.
He did not answer at once; and she moved away to make place for Paul,whose face was set in very rigid lines.
"Take me to the _duftur_," Desmond commanded curtly. "I'll not be putto bed."
"No, no, man; we'll settle you up in your long chair," Mackay answeredsoothingly. He perceived that by some means Mrs Desmond had jarred hispatient, and was in high ill-humour with her accordingly.
At the study door, Amar Singh almost laid his head at Desmond's feet.Within the room they found Frank Olliver arranging pillows and a rugon the deck-chair, and on a table beside it a light meal awaited him.
The meal ended, they all left him with one accord, instinctivelymaking way for his wife--who was crying her heart out in the nextroom.
Paul was the last to leave. He remained standing by Desmond, resting ahand on his sound shoulder. But there are silences more illuminatingthan speech; and Theo Desmond knew all that was in his friend's heartat that moment--all that could never be spoken between them, becausethey were Englishmen, born into a heritage of incurable reserve.
"You're going to pull through this," Paul said quietly.
"Am I? Ask Mackay."
"No need for that--I'm sure of it; and--in the mean while----" Atightening of his grasp supplied the rest.
"Thanks, old man. I know what you mean."
Then Paul went reluctantly out, and on into the drawing-room, where hefound Mackay and Honor Meredith in close conference. The little doctorwas laying down the law in respect of his patient with characteristicbluntness.
"Now, Miss Meredith," he had said, as he met her in the hall, and drewher aside into the empty room, "I'm a plain man, and you must put upwith plain speaking for the next few minutes. It's no light matter tobe responsible for a chap like Desmond. Not a morsel of use talking tohis wife! She seems to have upset him already. The Lord alone knowshow women do these things. Fools men are to care! But Desmond is whatyou call finely organised; and you can't handle a violin as you woulda big drum. Frankly, now, his eyesight's in danger; and that wound inhis cheek is an ugly one in any case. He wants careful nursing, and Irefuse to put him into Mrs Desmond's hands. I'd deserve hanging formurder if I did! Remains Mrs Olliver, or yourself. 'Twould be awkwardfor Mrs Olliver to take his wife's place when there is a capable womanon the spot. So now, will you take charge of Desmond for me, and putyourself under my orders?--that's the real _mutlub_[28] of the wholematter. You're welcome to say I don't think Mrs Desmond strong enough,if you feel bound to tell a polite lie on the subject."
[28] Gist.
Honor had listened to the doctor's brusquely-delivered speech with agrowing sense of helplessness, as of a mouse caught in a trap. Hisstatement of the case was uncomfortably plain. He left her no loopholeof escape; and by the time he fired his final question at her, she haddecided on present capitulation.
"Yes, I will take charge of him," she said. "Only Mrs Desmond musthave some share in the nursing--for his sake and her own."
"Oh, well--well, I suppose she must. The less the better for his sake;and you've got to consider Desmond before every one else at present. Iinsist on that."
Honor smiled faintly at the superfluous injunction; and it was at thispoint that Paul entered the room.
Mackay turned on him a face of open jubilation.
"Congratulate me, Wyndham! I've secured Miss Meredith's services forDesmond."
"Thank God," Paul answered fervently; and he thanked Honor also withhis eyes.
"I shall move into the bungalow myself after the funeral, and give youwhat help I can. He will need a good deal of companionship to keep himfrom chafing at his helplessness. He wished the Boy to be brought hereand buried from his house. I am making all arrangements; and we shallbe round quite early in the morning. Can I see Desmond againto-night?"
Mackay pursed his lips.
"He'll do best with just the women-folk this evening. Look in afterMess, if you like--last thing."
"Was Evelyn with him when you left?" Honor asked suddenly, a flash ofapprehension in her tone.
"No."
"I must go and see what has come to her," she said, visibly disturbed."I shall see you both after Mess."
She hurried out, and listened intently at the study door. No soundbroke the stillness; and with an aching dread at her heart she passedon to the next door.
The brief dusk of India was already almost spent; and finding Evelyn'sroom in semi-darkness, she paused on the threshold.
"Are you there, dear?" she called softly; and was answered by astifled sound from the region of the bed, where Evelyn lay prone, herface buried in the pillows. At that Honor came forward, and laid afirm though a not unkindly hand upon her.
"Evelyn, this is childish selfishness. Get up and go to him at once."
The sole answer vouchsafed to her was a vehement shaking of the fairhead; a fresh paroxysm of distress.
"My dear--my dear," she urged, bending down and speaking more softly,"you _must_ pull yourself together. This is no time to think of yourown trouble. He is wounded, anxious, and terribly unhappy
and--hewants you. Do you call this being a loyal wife? Remember, youpromised----"
Thus appealed to, Evelyn lifted her head, supporting it on one elbow,and showed a grief-disfigured face.
"Yes, I know. But--couldn't you go to him, just for now, Honor? You'renot upset, like I am;--and say I--I'll come when I'm better."
Honor went white to the lips.
"No, Evelyn," she said, her anger rising as she went on. "There arethings that even _I_ must refuse to do for you. I have done all thatis in my power; but I _will_ not take your place with--your husband."
Astonishment checked Evelyn's sobbing, and a spark of unreasoningjealousy shot through the mist of her tears.
"I don't _want_ you to take my place with him. He's _mine_!"
"Then don't ask me to go to him now."
The counter-stroke was unanswerable. Evelyn made a genuine attempt tostill the uncontrolled quivering of her body, and actually got uponher feet. But abandonment to misery had so shaken her that, even asHonor put out a steadying hand, she fell back among her pillows with achoking sob.
"It's no use," she moaned. "Go, Honor--go _now_; and say I--I'mcoming."
The girl set her teeth hard. A strange light gleamed in the blue ofher eyes. She moved across to the washing-stand and poured out a stiffdose of sal volatile.
"Here, Evelyn," she said, all the tenderness gone from her voice,"drink this at once. Then get up as soon as you can, and make yourselfpresentable. I shall not be gone many minutes, and you _must_ be readyto go to him the instant I come back."
Evelyn choked and spluttered over the burning mixture.
"Oh, thank you, Honor, thank you. Only--don't look so angry about it,please."
"I _am_ angry--I am bitterly angry," Honor answered with suddenvehemence, and went quickly from the room.
Once outside, she paused; her whole soul uplifted in a wordless prayerfor strength and self-control. It seemed to her that Evelyn'sreception of Theo went far to make her own departure a matter ofimperative necessity, cruelly hard though it was to risk beingmisjudged at such a crisis.
With heart and spirit braced for her ordeal, she entered the room.
But at sight of him, who was the incarnation of life, cheerfulness,and vigour, lying stricken in heart and body, her courage desertedher, and she could neither speak nor move. On the lower end of thelong chair Rob nestled in an attitude of perplexed watchfulness;satisfaction and bewilderment contending for the mastery over hisfaithful soul; and Desmond's right arm supported his stunned andaching head.
As Honor paused on the threshold, he stirred uneasily. "That you,Ladybird?" he asked; and his tone, if listless, was unmistakablytender.
"No, Theo. It is I--Honor," the girl answered in a low voice withoutmoving forward.
"Where's Evelyn, then?"
"She's coming soon--very soon."
"What's gone wrong with her? Has she fainted? You might come a littlecloser to a fellow, Honor. I feel cut off from everything and everyone, with this damnable green wall in front of my eyes."
At that cry from the man's tormented heart all thought of her ownpain, all doubt as to her own strength, was submerged by a flood-tideof pure human compassion; and she came to him straightway, kneelingclose beside his chair, and laying one hand lightly on the rug thatcovered him.
"There, Theo--there. Can you see me a little now?" she asked tenderly."You mustn't think hard things of--Ladybird--please. She let herselfgo so completely after seeing you in the verandah, and it wasimpossible for her to come to you while she was in such a state ofcollapse. I have given her a strong dose of sal volatile, and shebegged me to explain things to you; so--I came. I can't tell you howsorry I was that it should be--only me."
He raised his head at that.
"You've the grit of all the Merediths in you, Honor," he said, and hischanged tone assured her that she had, in some measure, fulfilled herpurpose. "I can't have you talking about 'only me' in that deprecatingfashion. Goodness knows what Ladybird would have done without you. Nodoubt she'll pull herself together when she has got more used to thehideousness of it all--myself included----"
"She will--I am sure she will," the girl declared with pardonableinsincerity; "and I really believe that if--if _I_ were not here,Evelyn might make more of an effort to stand on her own feet than shedoes now. Please don't misunderstand me, Theo,"--her brave voicefaltered on the words--"please believe that I myself would far ratherbe here at a time like this. I would not dream of deserting my post ifI were not quite sure that there are many others ready to look afteryou as carefully and willingly as I would do myself. Indeed, I amhonestly suggesting what I think would be best for us allround--Evelyn especially. Won't you let me go, Theo, and at least tryhow it works?"
Desmond shook his head with cautious deliberation, since hastymovements had proved to be dangerous.
"My dear Honor," he objected, "you, who know Ladybird even better thanI do, must surely know by now that nothing will force her to standupon her own feet. To-day gives final proof of it. What's more, Paulwill probably establish himself here. I can't have him criticisingher, even in his own mind; and who but you can I rely on to preventit, by keeping her up to the mark? You see, I am taking you at yourword, and not misunderstanding you, and I ask you frankly to stand byus till this trouble is over, when you shall both go straight to theHills."
"Very well, Theo; I will stay."
But her voice had an odd vibration in it. There was no refusing arequest so worded; but she knew her decision was only deferred to amore seasonable moment.
"Thank you with all my heart," he said. "You'll not regret it, I feelcertain."
During the pause that followed, the wounded man made a futile attemptto change his position. In an instant her hands were at his pillows,shifting them quickly and dexterously, supporting his shoulders withher arm the while.
"There, that's better, isn't it?" she asked; and the mother-notesounded in her voice.
"It's just beautiful, thank you. Now--I want Ladybird."
Honor's colour ebbed at the words, and she may be forgiven if a pangof rebellion stabbed her. All the hard tasks, it seemed, were to behers; while for Evelyn was reserved the full measure of a love andtenderness which she seemed little able to rate to their true value.But there was no trace of emotion in her voice as she replied, "Youshall have her at once; only she mustn't stay long. You have alreadytalked more than is good for you."
"Talked?" he echoed, with a sudden outburst of impatience. "What elseis there for me to do? I can neither read, nor write, nor move. Am Ito lie here like a log, with my own black thoughts for company? I'mnot ill, in spite of all."
"No, Theo, you are not ill now," the girl reasoned with him in allgentleness, "but with a wound like that so near your temple you soonwill be ill, if you refuse to be moderately careful. Evelyn shall stayfor a quarter of an hour. After that you _must please_ obey me and liequiet, so as to get a little sleep, if possible, after your crueljourney. Amar Singh shall sit here, and I will leave the drawing-roomdoor open and play to you;--something invigorating--the Pastoral, tostart with. Will that do?"
His prompt penitence caught at her heart.
"Forgive me, Honor," he said. "I was an ungrateful brute, and you're along way too good to me. I'll obey orders in future, without kickingagainst the pricks. The music will be no end of a comfort. Just likeyou to think of it!"