Cursed by a Fortune

“I can do no more,” said Leigh at last, in a hoarse whisper. “God help me! How weak and helpless one feels at a time like this!”

The words came involuntarily from his lips, for at that moment he seemed to be alone with the sufferer, his patient once again, whose life he would have given his own to save.

“Oh, come, come, doctor!” said Garstang, breaking in harshly upon the terrible stillness, and there was a forced gaiety in his tone. “It was a little sleeping draught; surely the effects will soon pass off. You are taking too serious a view of the case.”

“I take the view of it, sir,” said Leigh, gravely, as he bent lower over the marble face before him, fighting hard to control the wild desire to press his lips to the temple where an artery throbbed, “I take the view given to us by experience. You had better send for further help at once.”

“No, no. It is only making an expose, where none is necessary. I will not believe that she is so bad. You medical men are so prone to magnify symptoms.”

“Indeed?” said Leigh, who dared not look at the speaker, but bent once more over his patient. “You came and told me that your wife was dying.”

“His wife, sir?” cried the housekeeper, indignantly. “It’s a wicked lie!”

Garstang turned savagely upon the woman, but he had to face Leigh, who sprang to his feet with a wild exaltation making every pulse throb and thrill.

“Not his wife!” he cried fiercely.

“No, sir, and never would be.”

“Curse you!” roared Garstang, making at her; but Leigh thrust him back.

“Then there has been foul play here.”

“How dare you?” cried Garstang. “I called you in to – But go on with your work, sir. Can you not see that the woman drinks? – she is mad drunk now. Hysterical, and does not know what she is saying. The lady is my wife, and I insist upon your attending to your professional duties or leaving the house. Is this the conduct of a physician?”

“It is the conduct of a man, sir, who finds himself face to face with a scoundrel.”

“You insolent hound!”

“John Garstang – ”

“John Garstang!”

“Yes, John Garstang; you see I know you! It is true then that you have abducted this lady, or lured her into this place, where you have kept her secluded from her friends. There is no need to ask the reason. I can guess that.”

“You – you – ” cried Garstang, ghastly now in his surprise. “Who are you that you dare to speak to me like this?”

“I, sir, am the physician you called in to see his old patient, dying, I fear, from the effects of the drug you have administered,” said Leigh, with unnatural calmness; “the man whose instinct tempts him to try and crush out your wretched life as he would that of some noxious beast. But we have laws, and whatever the result is here, my duty is to hand you over to the police.”

“Oh, doctor! doctor!” cried the woman wildly, from behind the couch. “Quick, quick! Look! Oh, my poor, poor child!”

Leigh sprang back to the couch and fell upon his knees, for a violent twitching had convulsed the girl’s motionless form.

Garstang, his face wild with fear, stood gazing down over the doctor’s shoulder, and then strode quickly to the back of the library, bent over a table, and took something from a drawer, before striding back, to stand looking on, trembling violently now, as he witnessed the strange convulsions, which gradually died out, and a low gasping sound escaped the sufferer’s lips.

Garstang drew a long, deep breath, turned quickly, and made for the door; but as he reached it Leigh’s hand was upon his collar, and he was swung violently round and back into the room.

He nearly fell, but recovered himself, and stood with his hand in his breast.

“Stand away from that door,” he cried.

“To let you escape?” said Leigh, firmly. “No; whether that convulsion means death or life to your victim, sir, you are my prisoner till the police are here. You – woman, go to the door, and send for or fetch the police.”

The housekeeper started forward, but with one heavy swing of the arm Garstang sent her staggering back, and then approached Leigh slowly, with a half-crouching movement, like some beast about to spring.

“Stand away from that door, and let me pass,” he said, huskily.

“Go back and sit down in that chair,” said Leigh sternly; and he now stepped slowly and watchfully toward him.

“Stand away from that door,” said Garstang again.

“Hah!” ejaculated Leigh, as he caught a glimpse of something in the man’s hand; and he sprang at him to dash it aside, when there was a flash, a loud report, and as a puff of smoke was driven in his face, Leigh spun round suddenly, and fell half across the farther table with a heavy thud.

At the same moment, Garstang thrust a pistol into his breast, darted to and flung open the door, to run right into the hall, where he was seized by a man, and a tremendous struggle ensued, Garstang striving fiercely to escape, his adversary to force him back toward the staircase; chairs were driven here and there, one of the marble statues fell with a crash, and twice over Garstang nearly shook his opponent off.

But he was wrestling with a younger man, who was tough, wiry, and in good training, while, in spite of the desperate strength given for the moment by fear, Garstang was portly, and his breath came and went in gasps.

“Here, you girl, open the door; call help – can’t hold him!” came in gasps.

A low wailing sound was the only response, and poor Becky, who was by the front door, with her face tied up, covered it entirely with her hands, and seemed ready to faint.

The struggle went on here and there, and once more there was the gleam of a pistol and a voice rang out:

“Ah! coward, fight fair.”

As utterance was given to these words the speaker made a desperate spring to try and catch the pistol, his weight driving Garstang back, whose heels caught against a heavy fragment of the broken piece of statuary, and its owner went down with the back of his head striking violently against another piece of the marble.

The next moment, fainting and exhausted, his adversary was seated on the fallen man’s chest, wresting the pistol from his grasp.

“Thought he’d done me. Here, you’re a pretty sort of a one, you are! Why didn’t you call the police?”

“Oh, I dursen’t! I dursen’t!” sobbed Becky.

“You dursen’t, you dursen’t!” grumbled the speaker. “Hi! help, somebody! Hi, Kate! are you in there? What, Doctor! Then you’ve got here, after all. I did go to your house.”

For Pierce Leigh suddenly appeared at the library door, where he stood, supporting himself by the side.

Chapter Forty Seven

“I say, he didn’t shoot you, did he?”

“Yes – through the arm,” said Leigh faintly. “Better directly. Can you keep him down, Wilton?”

“Oh yes, I’ll keep the beggar down,” said Claud, cocking the pistol. “Do you hear, you sir? You move a hand and as sure as I’ve got you here, I’ll fire. Send for a doctor someone.”

“No, no,” cried Leigh, a little more firmly; “not yet;” and he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and folded it with one hand. “Tie this tightly round my arm.”

“You take the pistol then – that’s it – and let the brute have it if he stirs. I won’t get off him. Kneel down.”

Leigh obeyed after taking the pistol, and Claud bound the handkerchief tightly round his arm.

“Hurt you?”

“Yes; but the sickness is going off. Tighter: it will stop the bleeding.”

“All right; but I say, we had better have in a doctor,” said Claud excitedly.

“Not yet. We don’t want an expose,” said Leigh anxiously.

“Shall I go for one, sir?” said the housekeeper.

“No. How is she now?” said Leigh anxiously.

“Just the same, sir,” said the woman, stifling her sobs.

“I’ll come in a moment or two. Go back; there is nothing to fear now.”

A burst of hysterical sobbing came from the front door, where Becky was crouching down, with her face buried in her hands.

“Take her with you,” said Leigh hastily; and he stood before Garstang while Becky walked into the library, shivering with dread.

“Here, you hold up, what’s your name,” cried Claud. “You behaved like a trump. It’s all right; he can’t hurt you now.”

“No,” said Leigh, in a harsh whisper, as the two women passed in and the door swung to; “nor anyone else. Look.”

“Eh?” said Claud wonderingly. “What at?”

“Don’t you see?” said Leigh, bending down and turning Garstang’s head a little on one side.

“Ugh!” ejaculated Claud. “Blood! I didn’t mean that. Why, he must have hit his head on that bit of marble.”

“Yes,” answered Leigh, after a brief examination, “the skull is fractured. We must get him away from here.”

“Not dangerous, is it, doctor?” said Claud, aghast.

Leigh made no answer, but rose to his feet and sat down on one of the hall chairs.

“What is it – faint?” said Claud.

“Yes – get me – something – he cannot move.”

“She seems to be more like sleeping now, sir,” said the housekeeper, appearing at the door. “Oh, no, no; don’t let him get up!”

“It’s all right, old lady. Here, got any brandy? The doctor’s hurt, and faint.”

“Yes, sir; yes, sir,” said the woman, glancing in a horrified way, at the two injured men, as she passed into the dining-room, from which she returned directly with a decanter and glass.

“It’s port wine, sir,” she said in a trembling voice; and she poured out a glass.

Leigh drained it, and rose to his feet.

“I will come back directly,” he said.

“That’s right. I say, I don’t quite like his looks.”

Leigh bent over the prostrate man, but said nothing, and passed into the library, where he spent five minutes in attendance upon Kate; and at the end of that time he rose with a sigh of relief.

“Will she come to, sir?” whispered the housekeeper, with her voice trembling.

“Yes, I think the worst is over. The medicine I gave her is counteracting the effects of the drug.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” burst out Becky; and she flumped down on the carpet and caught one of Kate’s hands, to lay it against her cheek and hold it there, as she rocked herself to and fro.

“Becky! Becky! you mustn’t,” whispered her mother.

“Let her alone; she will do no harm,” said Leigh, quietly.

“Are – are you going to send for the police, sir?” faltered the woman.

“No, certainly not yet,” replied Leigh; and he went back into the hall.

“I say,” said Claud, in a voice full of awe, “I’m jolly glad you’ve come. He ain’t dying, is he?”

For answer Leigh went down on one knee, and made a fresh examination.

“No,” he said at last; “but he is very bad. I cannot help carry him, but he must be got into one of the rooms.”

“Fetch that old girl out, and we’ll carry him,” said Claud; and after a moment or two’s thought Leigh went to the library, stood for a while examining his patient there, and then signed to Becky and her mother to follow him.

Under his directions a blanket was brought, passed under the injured man, and then each took a corner, and he was borne into the dining-room and laid upon a couch.

“I don’t like to call in police, or a strange surgeon,” Leigh whispered to Claud. “We do not want this affair to become public.”

“By George, no!” said Claud, hastily.

“Then you must help me. I can do what is necessary; and these women can nurse him.”

“But I can’t help you,” protested the young man. “If it was a horse I could do something. Don’t understand men.”

“I do, to some extent,” said Leigh, smiling faintly. Then, to the woman, “You can go back now. Call me at once if there is any change.”

The two trembling women went out, and after another feeble protest Claud manfully took off his coat, and acting under Leigh’s instructions, properly bandaged the painful wound made by Garstang’s bullet, which had struck high up in Leigh’s arm, and passed right through, a very short distance beneath the skin.

“A mere nothing,” said Leigh, coolly, as the wound was plugged and bandaged, the table napkins coming in handy. “Why, Wilton, you’d make a capital dresser.”

“Ugh!” ejaculated the young man, with a shudder. “I should like to be down on one. Sick as a cat.”

“Take a glass of wine, man,” said Leigh, smiling.

“I just will,” said Claud, gulping one down. “Thank you, since you are so pressing, I think I will take another. Hah! that puts Dutch courage in a fellow,” he sighed, after a second goodly sip. “It’s good port, Garstang. Here’s bad health to you – you beast.”

He drank the rest of his wine.

“I say, doctor, you don’t expect me to help timber his head, do you?”

Leigh nodded, as he drew his shirt-sleeve down over his bandages.

“But the brute would have shot me, too.”

“Yes, but he’s hors de combat, my lad, and you don’t want to jump on a fallen enemy.”

“Don’t know so much about that, doctor,” said the young man, dryly, “but you ought.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Leigh, “but I am what you would call crotchety, and I must treat him as I would a man who never did me harm. Come, your wine has strung you up. Let’s get to work.”

“Must I? Hadn’t you better put the beggar out of his misery? He isn’t a bit of good in the world, and has done a lot of harm to everyone he knows.”

“Bad fracture,” said Leigh, gravely, as he passed his hand round the insensible man’s head, “but not complicated. He must have fallen with tremendous violence.”

“Of course he did,” said Claud. “He had my weight on him, as well as his own. Can he hear what we say?”

“No, and will not for some time to come. Now, take the scissors out of my pocket-book, and cut away all the hair round the back. There, cut close: don’t be afraid.”

“Afraid! Not I,” said Claud, with a laugh, “I’ll take it all off, and make him look like a – what I hope he will be – a convict.”

He began snipping away industriously, talking flippantly the while, to keep down the feeling of faintness which still troubled him.

“Fancy me coming to be old Garstang’s barber! I say, doctor, you’d like to keep a lock of the beggar’s hair, wouldn’t you? I mean to have one.”

“Mind what you are doing,” said Leigh, quietly; and as Claud went on cutting he prepared bandages with one hand and his teeth, from another of the fine damask napkins; and in spite of the pain he suffered, bandaged the injury, and at last sank exhausted in a chair, but rose directly to go across to the library.

“How is she?” said Claud, anxiously, upon his return.

“The effects are passing off, and in two or three hours I hope she will come to.”

“Then look here,” said Claud, anxiously, “ought I to – I mean, ought you to send over to somebody and tell her how things are going on? She’ll be horribly anxious.”

Leigh frowned slightly.

“You mean my sister, of course,” he said. “No; she is aware that I was called in to a case of emergency, but she does not know that it is here.”

“Doesn’t she know? I say, though, I’m a bit puzzled how you came here.”

“This man fetched me.”

“Fetched you? How came he to do that?”

“In ignorance of who I was, of course. But how came you here so opportunely?”

“Oh, I’ve been watching and tracking for long enough, till I ran him to earth; and I’ve been trying for days to get at him. Got hold of that woman with the tied-up head at last – only this evening – and was going to bribe her, but she let out everything to me, and after telling me everything, said she’d let me in. So I went for you, and as you were out I was obliged to try and get Kate away at once. You know the rest I say, this is what you call a climax, isn’t it?”

Leigh sat gazing at him sternly, but Claud did not avoid his eyes, and went on.

“Now look here; of course he got her for the sake of her money, and she can’t stop here. But she must be taken away as soon as she can be moved.”

“Of course.”

“Yes, of course,” said Claud, firmly. “It isn’t a time for stickling about ourselves; we’ve got to think about her, poor lass. Damn him! I feel as if I could go and tear all his bandages off – a beast!”

“What do you propose, then?” said Leigh, calmly.

“Well, for the present we’d better take her to your house. She must be in a horrid state, and the best thing for her is to find herself along with some one she loves. It will do her no end of good to find Jenny’s – I beg your pardon, Miss Leigh’s arms around her.”

“Yes, you are quite right; and I could go to an hotel.”

“Humph! Yes, I suppose you ought to, but I’ve been thinking of something else, if you don’t mind. The guv’nor’s shut up with his gout, so I think I ought to go home and fetch the mater. She talks a deal, but she’s a jolly motherly sort, and was fond of Kate. There’s no harm in her, only that she’s a bit soft about her beautiful boy – me, you know,” he said, with one of his old grins.

Leigh winced a little, and Claud’s face grew solemn directly.

“I say,” he said hastily, “it was queer that he should have come and fetched you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Leigh, “a curious stroke of fate, or whatever you may call it; and yet simple enough. It was in a case of panic; he was seeking a doctor, and my red lamp was the first he saw. But after all, it was the same when we were boys; if we had strong reasons, through some escapade, for wishing to avoid a certain person, he was the very first whom we met.”

“Yes, Mr Wilton; what you propose is the best course that can be pursued, and I think it is our duty towards your cousin; we can arrange later on what ought to be done about this man. You and your relatives may or may not think it right to prosecute him, but you may rest assured that his injury will keep him a close prisoner for a long while to come.”

“Yes, I suppose that fall was a regular crippler, but you have to think about prosecuting too. The law does not allow people to use pistols.”

“We can discuss that by-and-by. Now, please, I shall be greatly obliged if you will go to my sister, and tell her as much as you think is necessary. If she has gone to bed she must be roused. Ask her to be ready to receive Miss Wilton, and then I think you ought to go down to Northwood and fetch Mrs Wilton.”

“All right – like a shot,” said Claud, eagerly. “I mean directly,” he cried, colouring a little. “But, er – you mean this?”

“Of course,” said Leigh, smiling; “why should I not? Let me be frank with you, if I can with a sensation of having a hole bored through my arm with a red-hot bar. A short time back I felt that if there was a man living with whom I could never be on friendly terms, you were that man; but you have taught me that it is dangerous to judge any one from a shallow knowledge of what he is at heart. I know you better now; I hope to know you better in the future. Will you shake hands?”

“Oh!” ejaculated Claud, seizing the hand violently, and dropping it the next instant as if it were red-hot. For Leigh’s face contracted, and he turned faint from the agony caused by the jar. “What a thoughtless brute I am! Here, have another glass of that beast’s wine.”

“No, no, I’m better now. There, quick! It must be very late, and I don’t want my sister to have gone to bed. I dare say she would sit up for me some time, though.”

“Yes, I’m off,” cried Claud, excitedly; “but let me say – no, no, I can’t say it now; you must mean it, though, or you wouldn’t have spoken like that.”

He had reached the door, when Leigh stopped him.

“I’ll go in first and see how your cousin is; Jenny would like the last report.”

“Better, certainly,” he said on his return; and Claud hurried out of the house.

“He said ‘Jenny,’” he muttered, as he ran towards Leigh’s new home. “‘Jenny,’ not ‘my sister,’ or ‘Miss Leigh.’ Oh, what a lucky brute I am! But I do wish I wasn’t such a cad!”

Chapter Forty Eight

Before morning Kate was sufficiently recovered to be removed to Leigh’s house; but it was days before her senses had fully returned, and her brain was thoroughly awake to the present and the past, to find herself lovingly attended by her aunt and Jenny Leigh, who was her companion down to Northwood, while Claud kept the doctor company in town and accompanied him as assistant every time he visited Great Ormond Street. For Leigh, in spite of his own injuries, continued to attend Garstang till he was thoroughly out of danger, though it was months before he was able to go to his office.

It was time he went there, for the place, and his country house in Kent, were in charge of his creditors’ representatives, it having come like a crash on the monetary world that Garstang, the money-lender and speculator, had failed for a very heavy sum.

Poetic justice or not, John Garstang found himself bankrupt in health and pocket; his bold attempt to save his position by making Kate his wife being the gambler’s last stroke.

As a matter of course, James Wilton was involved; led on by Garstang, he had mortgaged his property deeply, and the money was now called in, and ruin stared him in the face just at a time when he was prostrate with illness.

“It’s jolly hard on the old man,” said Claud one day when he had come up to town and called on Leigh, “for the guv’nor has lorded it down at Northwood all these years, and could have been doing it fine now if it hadn’t been for old Garstang. He gammoned the guv’nor into speculating, and then gammoned him when he lost to go on with the double or quits game, and a nice thing Johnny must have made out of it. If it had been sheep or turnips, of course the old man would have been all there; but it was a fat turkey playing cards with a fox, and I suppose everything comes to the hammer.”

“Very bad for your mother,” said Leigh.

“Oh, I don’t know. I say, may I light my pipe?”

“Oh, yes; smoke away while you have any brains left.”

“Better smoke one’s brains away than catch some infection in your doctor’s shop. How do I know that some one with the epidemics hasn’t been sitting in this chair? – ah! that’s better. I say, it’s a pity you don’t smoke, Leigh.”

“Is it? Very well, then, I’ll have a cigar with you to help keep off the infection. I did have a rheumatic patient in that chair this morning.”

“Eh? Did you? Oh, well, I’ll risk that. Ah, now you look more sociable, and as if you hadn’t got your back up because I called.”

“I couldn’t have had, because I was very glad to see you.”

“Were you? Well, you didn’t look it. You were saying about being bad for the mater. I don’t believe she’ll mind, if the guv’nor don’t worry. She’s about the most contented old girl that ever lived, if things will only go smooth. The crash comes hardest on poor me. It’s Othello’s occupation, gone, and no mistake, with yours truly. I say, don’t you think I could turn surgeon? I have lots of friends in the Mid-West Pack, and if they knew I was in the profession I could get all the accidents.”

“No,” said Leigh, smiling; “you are not cut out for a doctor.”

“I don’t think I am cut out for anything, Leigh, and things look very black. I can farm, and of course if the guv’nor hadn’t smashed I could have gone on all right. But it’s heart-breaking, Leigh; it is, upon my soul. I haven’t been home for weeks. Been along with an old aunt.”

“Why, you oughtn’t to leave a sinking ship, my lad.”

“Well, I know that,” said Claud, savagely; “and that’s why I’ve come here.”

“Why you’ve come here?” said Leigh, staring.

“Yes; don’t pretend that you can’t understand.”

“There is no pretence. Explain yourself.”

Claud Wilton had only just lit his pipe, but he tapped it empty on the bars, and sat gazing straight before him.

“I want to do the square thing,” he said; “but I’m such an impulsive beggar, and I can’t trust myself. I want you to send for your sister home; Kate’s all right again; mother told me so in a letter; and she has got her lawyer down there, and is transacting business. Look here, Leigh: it isn’t right for me to be down there when your sister’s at the Manor. I can’t see a shilling ahead now, and it isn’t fair to her.”

Leigh looked at him keenly.

“I shall have to marry Kate after all,” continued Claud, with a bitter laugh. “Do you hear, hated rival? We can’t afford to let the chance go. Oh, I say, Leigh, I wish you’d give me a dose, and put me out of my misery, for I’m about the most unhappy beggar that ever lived.”

“Things do look bad for you, certainly,” said Leigh. “How would it be if you tried for a stewardship to some country gentleman – you understand?”

“Oh, yes, I understand stock and farming generally; but who’d have me? Hanged if I couldn’t go and enlist in some cavalry regiment; that’s about all I’m fit for.”