The Story of Antony Grace Part 50

I told him all I knew, and then ran on to Hallett's to ask him to get me excused at the office.

I found him looking very pale, but Linny was not visible; and then I told him about Revitts' state.

"It's very strange," he exclaimed. "Linny came home in trouble last night. She said some man had insulted her, and when she called for help a policeman ran up; and she left them struggling together while she made her escape and came home."

"Then it must have been Revitts who helped her," I said; and I then told him that I wanted to stay with the poor fellow.

"I'll arrange all that for you, Antony," he said quietly; and I made the best of my way back to Caroline Street, to find that poor Revitts had not moved, only kept on muttering where he had been laid by the doctor; and I took the watcher's place, made tea for him, and spoke to him again and again, but without result.

The police surgeon came soon after with the inspector I had seen, asked me a few questions as he examined the injuries, and then I saw him tighten his lips.

"Hadn't he better be taken to the infirmary, sir?" the inspector asked.

"No," was the reply; "he must not be moved." Then, turning to me: "You had better get some one to come and nurse him, my lad," he said; "mother, sister, or somebody. I'll call in again in the evening."

I knew from this that the poor fellow must be seriously hurt, and had I wanted confirmation, I had it in the delirious mutterings that now came from his lips.

I sat by him in great trouble, wondering what I should do, when the doctor I had fetched called in, who, on learning that the divisional surgeon had been, nodded his satisfaction and turned to go.

"Please tell me, sir," I said, "is he very, very bad?"

"Well, bad enough, my lad; you see, he has got concussion of the brain, and I daresay he will be ill for some time, but I do not antic.i.p.ate anything serious. He must have a nurse."

As soon as he had gone I sat and thought for a few minutes what I ought to do. Miss Carr was very kind and generous. If I asked her she would pay for a nurse; but no, I would not ask her without first consulting Hallett. He would help me in my difficulty, I felt sure, especially as it was probable that Linny was the girl poor Revitts had protected. But Hallett would not be back till evening, and then perhaps he would--no, he would be sure to come in.

I sat thinking, and the landlady came up, full of bewailings about her injured lodger, and in her homely way promised to come and wait on him from time to time. Then a bright thought occurred to me. I would write and tell Mary that Revitts was hurt, for I felt that she ought to know, and hastily taking pen and paper, I wrote her word that my friend was very ill, and asked her to tell me the address of some of his relations, that I might send them word. I did not forget to add a postscript, urging her to secrecy as to my whereabouts, for my dread of Mr Blakeford was as great as ever.

Seizing my opportunity when Revitts was more quiet, I slipped out and posted the letter, running back panting to find that a lady had come--so the landlady said--during my absence, and, rus.h.i.+ng upstairs I stood staring with amazement on finding Linny in the room taking off her jacket and hat.

"You here, Linny?" I exclaimed.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Why not?"

"Was it you, then, that poor Revitts helped last night?"

"Yes," she said, with a s.h.i.+ver, and she turned white. "Yes, poor fellow. It was very brave of him, and I have come to help him in return."

"But does--does Stephen know?"

"How can he," she said meekly, "when he is at the office?"

"But I am sure he would not approve of your coming," I said stoutly.

"I can't help that," she replied quietly. "He will think it his duty to find fault, and I think it mine to come and help to nurse this poor fellow who was hurt in serving me."

"But your mother--Mrs Hallett?"

"I have arranged for some one to go in and wait upon her till I go back," said Linny quietly. "Now, what had I better do?" I could think of nothing better than to suggest some beef-tea, and she s.n.a.t.c.hed at the notion, running out to fetch the material; and soon after having it simmering by the fire, while she tidied the room in a way only possible to a woman; and as she busied herself in a quiet, quick fas.h.i.+on, I could not help noticing how pale and subdued she seemed. It was very evident that her nerves had had a severe shock on the previous night, and as I gazed at the pretty, soft little face and figure, bending themselves so earnestly to the task in hand, I could hardly believe it was the same giddy, coquettish girl who caused her brother so much concern.

The day wore slowly by, and in spite of my efforts and real anxiety, I could not keep awake, but caught myself dozing off sometimes to start up, feeling horribly guilty, and ready to excuse myself to Linny on the plea that I had had hardly any sleep for two nights.

"The more need for me to come, Antony," she said quietly, and bidding me lie down for an hour or two, she took out her work and, seated herself by the sick man's pillow.

She woke me up at last to have a sort of tea-dinner with her, after I had seen that Revitts remained perfectly insensible, and then the evening wore on, the surgeon came and nodded his satisfaction at finding a nurse there, said that the patient was going on all right, but must have time, and took his leave.

At half-past eight, just as I had antic.i.p.ated, Hallett arrived, and started with surprise on seeing his sister.

"You here?" he said, with an angry look upon his brow.

"Yes, Stephen," she said quietly; "I have come to help nurse him."

"It was an ill-advised step," he said sternly. "You did not know that this was the man who protected you."

"I felt so sure of it that I came to see," she replied. "Don't be angry with me, Stephen," she whispered. "I owned to you last night that I was in fault, and meant to do better."

"Yes, and refused to answer my questions," he replied. "You do not tell me whom you went to see."

"Is it not enough that I have promised you I'll go no more?" she replied with quivering lips.

"Yes, yes, my child," he said tenderly, as he took her in his arms and laid his cheek against her forehead. "It is enough, and I will not press you. Dear Linny, indeed I strive for your good."

"I know that, Stephen," she cried with a wild burst of tears, and, flinging her arms round his neck, she kissed him again and again. "My own brave, good brother," she said; "and I've been so ungrateful and selfis.h.!.+ Oh, Stephen, I'm a beast--a wretch!" she sobbed.

"Hush, hush, little one," he said; and then, starting, he held her at arm's length and gazed full in her eyes. "Why, Linny," he exclaimed, as a light seemed to have flashed across his mind, "it was that man--you went to meet--who insulted you."

She turned away her face, and hung her head, s.h.i.+vering as he spoke, and weeping bitterly.

"It was," he cried; "you do not deny it. The villain!"

"Please, please don't, Stephen," she sobbed in a low, piteous voice.

"Linny!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely; and his face looked terrible. "If I knew who it was, I believe I should kill him?"

"Stephen," she wailed, "pray--pray! We are not alone."

"There is only Antony here," he said, "and he is like a brother." Then, making an effort over himself, he strained the little panting figure to his breast, and kissed her tenderly. "It is all past, my darling," he said to her softly, and he smoothed her hair with his hand, as if she had been his child. "I'll say no more, dear, for you have promised me."

"Yes; and I will keep my word, Stephen."

He kissed her again, and loosed her, to stand with brows knit with trouble.

"I do not like your coming here, Linny," he cried at last.

"Why not, dear?" she said, laying her hands upon his shoulder. "It is an earnest of my promise. He came to me when I was in trouble."

"Yes," he said; "you are right," and after looking at the patient he sat down and talked to us in a low tone.

"Is it not nearly time for you to go back, Linny?" Hallett said at last.