CHAPTER XVIII
REINFORCED
Mr Holland had opened his eyes; he had done nothing more. The movementmight have been owing to an involuntary contraction of the muscles, sorigid did his attitude continue to be, so apparently unseeing were thestaring pupils. But, for the instant, it was sufficient for Miss Broadthat he had shown signs of volition even to so small an extent. Shebent over the bed, addressing him by a dozen endearing epithets.
'Guy! My darling! my love! my dear! Don't you know me? It'sLetty--your own Letty! Speak to me! Guy! Guy!'
But he did not speak. Nor was it possible, to judge from anyresponsive action on his part that he even heard. His continualunnatural rigidity cooled the first ardour of the lady's joy. Sheaddressed Miss Bewicke. And now the tears were streaming down hercheeks.
'May, come here! Look at Guy! Get him to speak to me!'
To enforce compliance with her wish was not so easy, as Miss Bewickesaw, if the other did not. There was an uncanny look about MrHolland's whole appearance which was not reassuring. He looked farindeed from the capacity for reasonable speech.
'He wants help. We ought to have a doctor at once.'
'Then fetch one--fetch one!'
That there was anything about the request which was at allunreasonable, seemingly Miss Broad did not pause to consider; she wastoo preoccupied with her own troubles and his. But to Miss Bewicke thedifficulty of the errand forcibly occurred.
'You forget--' she began. Then stopped, for she remembered how easy itwas, in the other's situation, to forget all things save one. She knither brows and thought, the result of her cogitations being a series ofdisjointed sentences.
'They can hardly be such brutes, when they know. And yet it was theywho put him there. I wonder! Do I dare?'
It seemed that she essayed her courage. She went to the door, and, fora moment, listened. Then turned the key, opened it an inch or two.What she saw and heard increased her valour, especially what sheheard. The drawing-room was empty. Loud voices came through the opendoor of the bedroom--her own bedroom on the opposite side--soundswhich did not speak of peace.
'I do believe they're fighting.'
She stole on tiptoe a foot or two into the empty room, then stopped ina flutter as of doubt--what might not happen if they caught her?--thentiptoed further, till she had reached the centre of the room. Againshe paused. If she was seen, it was a long way back to the haven ofcomparative safety she had quitted. But the noise, if anything, grewlouder. From some of the words which reached her, she judged itpossible that they were too much occupied with their own proceedingsto pay heed to anything else. She perceived that, by some stroke ofgood fortune, the key was outside the door. She screwed her courage tothe sticking-point, forming a sudden resolution. Darting forward,thrusting the door to quickly, she turned the key, then, when the keywas turned, the deed done, the three gentlemen trapped, she leanedagainst the wall, went white, seemed on the verge of fainting.
She went still whiter when the handle was turned within, and Mr HoraceBurton's voice was heard demanding that the door be undone.
'If they should get out!'
The possibility of the thing, and the fear thereof, acted on her as aspur. She tore to the door which led out of the flat, and, throwing itopen, almost fell into the arms of the cook and housemaid who werereturning from their Sunday evening out. Seldom have domestic servantsbeen more heartily welcomed. She addressed them by their names.
'Wilson! Stevens! go at once for the police!'
Instead of promptly obeying, they stared at her in astonishment. Herhat, which she had not removed during the lively incidents which hadmarked the passage of the time since her arrival home, was on oneside, at that unbecoming angle which is a woman's nightmare; and therewere other traces of disarray which were not in keeping with herbest-known characteristics, for, with her, a pin misplaced was thething unspeakable. While the cook and housemaid stared, hesitating tostart, as they were bidden, in search of the representatives of lawand order, the lift stopped at the landing, and from it, of allpersons in the world, Mr Bryan Dumville emerged.
She flew into his arms, as, it may be safely said, she had never flownbefore.
'Oh, Bryan! Bryan! I'm so glad you've come!'
As the flattered gentleman was, no doubt, about to express hisappreciation of the warmth of his reception, the lift commenced todescend. Something else occurred to her.
'Stop! stop!' she cried. The lift returned. The porter looked outinquiringly. 'Peters, there are thieves in my rooms! You had bettercome with us at once.'
'Thieves, miss? Hadn't I better--'
She cut the porter's sentence short, relentlessly.
'No, you hadn't. You must come with us at once. Don't you hear me sayso?'
He went. They all went--the cook and the housemaid, the porter, MrBryan Dumville, and Miss May Bewicke. She went last. As she went, sheshut the front and drawing-room doors behind her. She pointed towardsher bedroom.
'They're in there at this moment--three of them.'
The porter seemed to have his doubts.
'Three of them? You're sure they are thieves, miss?'
'Am I sure? Why do you ask me such a question? Do you think I'm likelyto make a mistake in a matter like that? Pray, don't be absurd.'
'In that case, if they are thieves, don't you think I'd better fetchthe police?'
Miss Bewicke's wits worked quickly. Even when circumstances seemedagainst their working at all--since instructing the cook and housemaidto do as the porter was now suggesting that he should do--she hadalready been turning things over in her mind, with the result that shewas not sure that she desired official assistance after all. If thepolice came, arrests would be made; she would have to see the thingthrough to the bitter end. In view of such a possible consummation,there were many points to be considered. Had she been an actress, witha keen eye for an advertisement--a type which, it is understood, doesexist--the idea of figuring as the heroine of what the slang of thehour calls a 'cause celebre' might have commended itself to herintelligence; but, as it happened, she was not that kind. If thesegentlemen did come into the hands of the police--at anyrate, on thisparticular charge--it was possible that things might transpire whichshe, and possibly others, would not wish to have mentioned in courtand in the papers. That the miscreants deserved all the punishmentwhich the law might award them, she had no doubt whatever. At the sametime, she was equally clear that they would duly, and shortly, receivetheir reward, if not at her instance, then at that of others. So, onthe whole, she decided, in a twinkling, that she would take no finalstep till she saw which way the cat might jump.
'When I want you to fetch the police, I will tell you.' She turned tothe housemaid. 'But there's one thing, Stevens, you might fetch, andmust, and that's a doctor. Go to the nearest, and bring him at once.'
Even as she spoke, through the dining-room door there came threepersons--Miss Broad, with Mr Guy Holland on her arm, looking the mostwoe-begone figure imaginable, but still alive, and plainly walking;behind them Miss Casata. For the second time Miss Bewickecountermanded her instructions.
'Stay, Stevens! Perhaps the doctor won't be wanted.'