CHAPTER XI.--PERCY'S REMORSE.
The three little girls set up a piteous cry of "Carol," "Carol." Janewas speechless, only wringing her hands in her extremity. What could shedo? It was half a mile to return to the farm for help, and a mile tothe nearest lodge belonging to the Manor; and there was no housebetween. She could not see where Carol had fallen. But she knew it wasover the hedge into the next field. She feared the infuriated animalwould force its way through. Though she could not in any way protecthim, it seemed terrible to go from the place, even to get help, andleave him there. Many moments were lost in her frenzied attempts toforce an entrance into the field from the lane. It was in vain. Thethick, high hedge was impregnable. She called again and again to Carolto speak, to answer her, but there was no response. It seemed aneternity before there was the welcome sound of a horse's hoofs in thelane, which drew nearer until a stanhope came in sight, containingColonel Mandeville, a friend, and a groom.
The three little girls cried: "Daddy, Daddy, the bull has tossed Carol!"
Colonel Mandeville sprang from the vehicle on the instant, scarcelyunderstanding what the children said. Their distress was evident. Thatwas sufficient. Jane then tried to explain.
"We were crossing the field, sir. I did not know the bull was there.He has tossed Master Carol over the hedge into this field, and we cannotget at him."
Colonel Mandeville uttered one low, sad exclamation.
"Where is the entrance into the field?" he asked.
"There is a gate into it from the field where the bull is. Oh, please,sir, it isn't safe; the bull is awfully enraged," she added, as ColonelMandeville walked towards the stile.
He turned to say to the groom: "Follow me," and to his friend: "Manton,drive to the village and bring Dr. Burton along. I fear we shall wanthim." To Jane he said briefly: "Take the children home."
Then he mounted the stile, and entered the field, a gun in his hand,which the groom had handed him from the stanhope. The gentlemen hadbeen shooting. The bull was standing in the middle of the field. Hesprang towards the fresh intruder with a bellow. Colonel Mandevillepointed his gun; there was a report, and the next instant the beastrolled over on his side, dead. The groom then followed his master.They had a little difficulty in opening the gate into the next field,but succeeded at last, and were able to get in.
Under the shadow of the hedge Carol was lying--still, motionless.
Colonel Mandeville knelt beside him.
"Carol, Carol," he said softly, but there was no response. "Go to thefarm as quickly as you can. Tell them to improvise an ambulance. Bringit along. Lose not a moment," he said to the groom.
Then he knelt on the ground, trying again to awake the boy toconsciousness: "My poor wife, how will she bear this?" he said tohimself, knowing well that Carol was as dear to her as her youngestborn, the Rosebud of the family. The signs of life were so faint, hecould not hope the boy would ever regain consciousness.
Dr. Burton was fortunately at home. In an inconceivably short time hearrived on the scene; and the groom returned with an ambulance, followedby the farmer, his wife, and some of the men, all anxious to give anyassistance they could.
Dr. Burton and Colonel Mandeville very tenderly lifted Carol on to theambulance, a faint moan was the only sign of life, but all were glad tohear even that. Dr. Burton would not make any examination until theycould lay him on a bed, and cut off his clothes.
There was no question of breaking the news gently to Mrs. Mandeville;she was returning from a drive as the little girls reached the gates.They ran to her sobbing broken-heartedly.
She was very calm, but her face grew deadly white, and wore again thestrained expression which had been so frequent during the sad days ofthe war. She could not remain inactive, and walked to meet the sadprocession.
As soon as Colonel Mandeville saw her, he advanced quickly to her side,and turned her steps homeward. He would not let her see the boy as helay on the ambulance, looking so like death.
Only Colonel Mandeville was with Dr. Burton when he made the criticalexamination. There were no broken bones, he said, but added that thereare things worse to deal with than broken bones, and hinted gravely atconcussion of the brain and spinal congestion. There were two terriblebruises where he had been caught on the bull's horns. He could not holdout any hope to them, but desired a second opinion, and a telegram wasat once despatched to a great London physician, who, it was calculated,would be able to reach Mandeville that night if he caught the eveningexpress. Then Mrs. Mandeville took her place by the bedside. She coulddo nothing, only watch in tearful silence the pallid face that hadbecome so dear to her, lying so still, so calm, it seemed at times thelips were breathless. The reply telegram came quickly. Sir Wilfridwould be able to catch the evening express which would stop atMandeville by request. He would reach the Manor about ten o'clock.
Not until the physician's arrival, when he and Dr. Burton held aconsultation together, did Mrs. Mandeville leave the bedside. She thenretired to her own room for a little time. Miss Markham came to herthere, begging her to go and speak to Percy. "His grief," she said, "isquite uncontrollable. I have done all I can to comfort him. But nothingI can say seems to touch him." Mrs. Mandeville went at once to Percy'sroom. He had thrown himself undressed on his bed, and was sobbinghysterically, as she entered the room.
"Percy, my dear boy, you must not grieve like this."
As soon as he was aware it was his mother beside him, he flung his armsround her neck.
"Oh, Mother, I can never, never, be happy again if Carol dies. If hehad not been there with them, the bull would have tossed my littlesisters. Jane said he stood between them and the bull. He is thebravest boy, and I--I--called him a--a--" He could not repeat the wordhe had so lightly, thoughtlessly uttered a few hours previously.
"If only I could tell him I did not mean it, and ask him to forgive me,Mother. Oh! won't he ever be able to speak to me again?"
"Dear Percy, I hope so. Sir Wilfrid Wynne is with him now, andeverything possible will be done for him. I am sure, darling, he wouldnot like you to grieve like this. He always has such loving thoughts ofothers." The remembrance of all his gentleness and loving thought forothers was too much for Mrs. Mandeville. Clasping her boy closely toher, she wept with him. Heaven was still to her a locality, and deaththe gateway to it; and Carol had always seemed so very near to theKingdom of Heaven.
All the household awaited with cruel suspense the great man's verdict,trusting to him, forgetful that human skill had failed the boy oncebefore in his hour of need, forgetful of that friend in Devonshire wholoved him as her own son. No message had been sent to her.