Tried for Her Life Part 69

"Not--not the room where Rosa was murdered this day fifteen years ago?"

murmured the man, gazing around him. "Am I delirious, then? It seems the very same room, only with different furniture."

"It is the correspondial room in this wing. T'other room is in t'other wing," explained Miss Tabby.

"And yet, what difference? what difference?" he murmured, restlessly.

"Mother," whispered Miss Tabby, "it seems to me as I've see a this man before."

"Shouldn't wonder," replied the old lady in a low tone. "Mr. Horace Blondelle has been living at the Dubarry Springs, within ten miles of us, for the last thirteen or fourteen years, and it would be queer if you hadn't seen him before."

"Queer or not, I never _did_ see Mr. Horace Blondelle, to know him as sich, in all my life before. And that an't what I mean neither, mother.

I have seen this man in a fright somewhere or other."

"The man in a fright?"

"No; _me_ in a fright when I saw him."

"Hus.h.!.+ don't whisper! See, it disturbs him," said the old lady.

And in truth the wounded man had turned to listen to them, and was gazing uneasily from one to the other.

When they became silent, he beckoned Miss Tabby to approach.

She bent over him.

"Now, look at me well, old girl," he whispered faintly, "and see if you can't recollect when you met me last."

"Ah!" screamed Miss Tabby, as if she had seen a ghost. "It was on the night of the flood! And you reskeed of us!"

"That's so."

"Well, then, my good gentleman, it ought to be a comfort and a conserlation to you, a laying wounded there, to reflect as how you _did_ reskee us from drownding that night," said Miss Tabby, soothingly.

"I don't know as far as the rescuing of you is concerned, old girl, whether the act will be found set down on the debit or credit side of my account at the last day," he said, with a gleam of his old humor sparkling up from beneath all his pain of mind and body.

"So this was the man," said the old lady to herself, while Miss Libby and even Gem, looked at him with a new interest.

"Mr. Blondelle, can you tell me how you came to be wounded?" inquired the old lady.

"No, not now. I must save all my strength for what I have to say to the lawyer. Give me more brandy. And then let me alone," he said, speaking faintly and with difficulty.

His request was complied with, and then the three old women, with Gem, withdrew to the fire.

The two laboring men came in from their errand and joined them at the fire.

"Did you catch Joe?" inquired the dame.

"Yes, mum, just as he was riding off. We had to run after him and shout; but we stopped him, and gave him your message."

"All right; and now tell me--for I hadn't a chance to ask before--how came this gentleman to be wounded?"

"Don't know, mum. We was on our way to a little Hallow Eve merry-making at a neighbor's house in the Quarries, when we fell in long o' Joe, who had been to the pine woods to gather cones; and we was all jogging along, Joe foremost, when he stumbled and fell over something, which proved to be this man, which, to tell the truth, we took to be dead at the time," replied one of the men.

"And have you no idea who shot him?"

"No more than you have yourself, mum. You see--"

A groan from the wounded man interrupted the conversation.

"Hus.h.!.+ we disturb him. I ought to have known better than to talk,"

whispered Mrs. Winterose, and then she walked to the bedside and inquired:

"What is the matter? Can I do anything for you?"

"No; let me alone, and be quiet," was the feeble reply.

The old woman went back to the fireplace, and sat down in silence. The two laboring men, uninvited, seated themselves at a short distance. All thoughts of going to a merry-making were given up for that night.

And a weary death-watch commenced, and continued in awful silence and stillness until it was interrupted by the sound of horses' feet in front of the house, and soon after by a loud knocking.

Miss Tabby sprang up to open the door and admit the doctor and the lawyer.

"This is a terrible thing, Mrs. Winterose," said Dr. Hart, as he shook hands with the old lady, and bowed to the other members of the family.

"Terrible indeed, sir," replied Mrs. Winterose, as she led the way to the bedside.

"I am sorry to see you wounded, Mr. Blondelle; but we shall bring you round all right," said Dr. Hart, as he took the hand of the dying man.

"Doctor, you know, or you will soon know, that you cannot do any such thing. So let us have no flattery. But if you can give me anything to keep me alive until I shall have finished a statement, that it may take me an hour to make, you will do the only thing you possibly can do for me," said Mr. Blondelle, speaking faintly, with difficulty, and with frequent pauses.

"Let me examine your injuries," said the doctor, gently.

"Do so, if you must and will. But pray occupy as little of my precious time as possible," pleaded the dying man.

The doctor proceeded to make his examination.

When he had finished it, he made not a single comment.

"I told you so," said Mr. Blondelle, interpreting his silence. "And now give me something to keep me going until I finish my work, and then send all these women out of the room, so as to leave us alone with the lawyer; but let them supply him with writing materials first."

"I will do as you direct; but meanwhile, shall I not send for your wife?" gently inquired the doctor.

"No; what would be the use? It will be all over with me before she can possibly get here," answered Mr. Blondelle.

The doctor did not urge the point; he probably agreed with his patient.

When he had administered a stimulant, he whispered to Mrs. Winterose to place writing materials on the little stand beside the cot, and then to take her daughters and Gem up stairs.