CHAPTER X
THE HAND OF A FRIEND
What had happened to her? Slowly, with a sensation of doubt that seemedto weigh her down, Anne rose to the surface of things, and looked oncemore upon the world that had rushed so giddily away from her and left herspinning through space.
She was horribly afraid during those first few minutes, afraid with aphysical, overwhelming dread. She seemed to be yet falling, fallingthrough emptiness to annihilation. And as she fell she caught the soundsof other worlds, vague whisperings in the dark. She was sinking, sinkingfast into a depth unfathomable, where no worlds were.
And then--how it came to her she knew not, for she was powerless to helpherself--out of the chaos and the awful darkness a hand reached out andgrasped her own; a hand strong and vital that gripped and held, thatlifted her up, that guided her, that sustained her, through all theterror that girt her round.
The light dawned gradually in her eyes. She found herself gazing up intoa face she knew, a lean, brown face, alert and keen, that watched hersteadfastly.
With an effort she clasped her nerveless fingers upon thesustaining hand.
"Hold me!" she whispered weakly. "I'm falling!"
"Don't be afraid!" he made answer with infinite gentleness. "I haveyou safe."
Someone whom she saw but vaguely came behind him and whispered in avigorous undertone. A large white hand, on which flashed many rings,rested upon his shoulder.
He moved slightly, took something into his free hand and held it to herlips. Submissively, in answer to an influence that seemed to fold herabout and gently to compel, she drank.
Slowly the mist of dread cleared from her brain. Slowly she awoke to fullconsciousness, and found Nap Errol bending over her, her hand fastclasped in his.
"What happened?" she asked him faintly. "Where am I?"
"You are at Baronmead," he said. "You were thrown and we broughtyou here."
"Ah!" Her brows contracted a little. "Am I much hurt?" she asked.
"Nothing to worry about," Nap said with quiet confidence. "You will soonbe all right again. I will leave you to get a good sleep, shall I? Ifyou are wanting anything my mother will be here."
She looked at him doubtfully. Her hand still clung to his,half-mechanically it seemed.
"Mr. Errol," she faltered, "my husband--does he know?"
"Yes, he knows." Very softly Nap made answer, as though he were soothinga child. "Don't trouble about that. Don't trouble about anything. Justlie still and rest."
But the anxiety in her eyes was growing. "He isn't here?" she questioned.
"No."
"Then--then I think I ought to go to him. He will think it so strange. Hewill--he will--"
"Lady Carfax, listen!" Quietly but insistently he broke in upon herrising agitation. "Your husband knows all about you. He couldn't cometo-night, but he is coming in the morning. Now won't you be content andtry to sleep?"
"I can't sleep," she said, with a shudder. "I am afraid of falling."
"No, you're not. See! I am holding your hands. You can't fall. Look atme! Keep looking at me and you will see how safe you are!"
His voice had sunk almost to a whisper. His eyes dusky, compelling, yetstrangely impersonal, held hers by some magic that was too utterlyintangible to frighten her. With a sigh she yielded to the mastery shescarcely felt.
And as she floated away into a peace indescribable, unlike anythingshe had ever known before, she heard a woman's voice, hushed to asibilant whisper, remark, "My, Nap! You're too smart to be human. Ialways said so."
When she opened her eyes again it was many hours later, and she was lyingin the broad sunshine with the doctor, whom she knew, stooping over her.
"Ah, you are awake at last!" he said. "And I find a marvellousimprovement. No, I shouldn't try to move at present. But I don't supposeyou can for a moment. You have had a wonderful escape, my dear lady, amost wonderful escape. But for all that I shall keep you where you arefor the next fortnight or so. A badly jarred spine is not a thing toplay with."
"Is that all?" Anne asked.
He became cautious on the instant. "I don't say that is all. In any casewe will run no risks. Let me congratulate you upon having fallen intosuch good hands."
He glanced over Anne's head at someone on the other side of the bed, andAnne turned slightly to see the person thus indicated. And so she had herfirst sight of the woman who ruled Lucas Errol's house.
She had heard of her more than once. People smiled, not unkindly, whenthey mentioned Mrs. Errol, a good sort, they said; but, like many anotherwoman of inelegant exterior, how good a sort only her Maker knew. She waslarge in every way. It was the only word that described her;large-boned, large-featured, and so stout that she wheezed--a fact whichin no way limited her activity. Her voice was as deep as a man's, and itwent even deeper when she laughed.
But she was not laughing now. Her face was full of the most kindlyconcern. "Lord bless the child!" she said. "She don't know me yet.I'm Mrs. Errol, dear, Mrs. Lucas Blenheim Errol. And if there'sanything you want--well, you've only got to mention it to me and it'sas good as done."
She spoke with a strong American accent. A Yankee of the Yankees was Mrs.Errol, and she saw no reason to disguise the fact. She knew that peoplesmiled at her, but it made no difference to her. She was content to letthem smile. She even smiled at herself.
"You are very good," Anne murmured.
"Not a bit," said Mrs. Errol cheerfully. "I'm real pleased to have you,dear. And don't you think you're giving any trouble to anybody, for thereisn't anything that pleases me so much as to have a girl to look after.It's the biggest treat the Lord could send."
Anne smiled a little, conscious of a glow at the heart that she had notknown for many a day. She tried weakly to give her hand to her newfriend, but the pain of moving was so intense that she uttered a quickgasp and abandoned the attempt.
But in an instant Mrs. Errol's fingers were wound closely about her own,the large face, wonderfully smooth, save for a few kindly wrinkles aboutthe eyes, was bent to hers.
"There, dearie, there!" said the motherly voice, tender for all itsgruffness. "You're stiff in every limb, and no wonder. It's just natural.Just you lie still and leave everything to me."
She was, in fact, determined to take the whole burden of nursing uponherself, and when the doctor had gone she began to show Anne how capableshe was of fulfilling the responsibility she had thus undertaken. Notrained nurse could have given her more dexterous attention.
"I've spent a great part of my life in sickrooms," she told Anne. "Firstmy husband, and then poor Lucas, that's my eldest boy. But Lucas won'thave me to wait on him now. He doesn't like his mother to see him in hisbad hours, and they are mighty bad now and then. So my nursing talentswould run to seed if it weren't for a casual patient like yourself."
It was so evident that she enjoyed her self-appointed task that Annecould only smile and thank her. She was helpless as an infant and couldnot have refused her hostess's ministrations even had she desired to doso. She suffered a good deal of pain also, and this kept her from takingmuch note of her surroundings during that first day at Baronmead.
She refrained from asking further about her husband for some time,avoiding all mention of him, but she was possessed by a nervous dreadthat increased steadily as the hours wore on. At last, as Mrs. Errolseemed equally determined to volunteer no information, she summoned herresolution and compelled herself to speak.
"My husband has not come yet?" she asked.
"No, dear." Mrs. Errol smiled upon her with much kindness, but her tonedid not encourage further inquiries.
Anne lay silent for a little. It was a difficult matter to handle."Did he send no message?" she asked at last, with knitted brows. "Ithought--or did I dream it?--that your son said he was coming."
"To be sure he did," said Mrs. Errol. "You would like to speak to Napabout it, wouldn't you?"
Anne hesitated. Mrs. Errol was already on her way to the door. It wasplain that here was
a responsibility she was unprepared to shoulder. ButAnne called her back.
"No, please!" she said, a slight flush on her face. "Don't call him inagain! Really, it is of no consequence."
But in spite of this assertion her uneasiness regarding her husband grewrapidly from that moment--an uneasiness that she was powerless to controlor hide. Could it be--was it possible?--that he meant to leave her thusabandoned to the pitying kindness of strangers? She could hardly believeit. And yet--and yet--he had done un-heard-of things before. There weretimes, times that had become more and more frequent of late, when shedoubted his sanity. Those devilish moods of his, whither were theytending? Was he in the grip of one of them now? And if so--if so--whatwould happen to her? What could she do?
As the hours passed, the torture of suspense so worked upon her thatshe began to grow feverish. The afternoon was waning and still noword had come.
She tried to reassure herself again and again, but each failure added toher distress.
"You mustn't fret, child," said Mrs. Errol gently, when she brought hertea. "It's the worst thing possible. Come, come! What is it?"
Anne tried to tell her, but could not. The very utterance of herfears was more than she could accomplish in her present state. Wordsfailed her.
Mrs. Errol said no more, but presently she went quietly away, leaving heralone in the firelight, chafing but impotent.
She was soon back again, however, and a muffled word on the thresholdtold Anne that she was not alone. She turned her head sharply on thepillow regardless of wrenched muscles, hoping against hope. But shelooked in vain for her husband's tall figure, and a sigh that was almosta groan escaped her. It was Nap, slim, upright, and noiseless, whostepped from behind Mrs. Errol and came to her bedside.
He stooped a little and took her quivering hand, holding it in both hisown so that his fingers pressed upon her pulse.
"The mater thought you would like to speak to me," he said.
She looked up at him with eyes of piteous entreaty. She was long past anythought of expediency so far as he was concerned. It seemed only naturalin her trouble to turn to him for help. Had he not helped her before?Besides, she knew that he understood things that she could not utter.
"Oh, Nap," she said admitting him unconsciously in her extremity to anintimacy she would never have dreamed of according him in any less urgentcircumstances, "I am greatly troubled about my husband. You said he wouldcome to me, but--he hasn't come!"
"I know he hasn't," Nap said. He spoke quietly, but she was aware of acertain grimness in his speech. "I shouldn't worry if I were you. Itwon't help you any. Is there anyone else you would like sent for?"
"I have--no one else," she said, her voice quivering beyond her control."How can I lie here and not worry?"
"Lord bless the child!" said Mrs. Errol vigorously. "What is there toworry about, anyway?"
But Nap was silent. His fingers were still closed firmly upon her wrist.
"Mrs. Errol is very good," Anne said earnestly. "You mustn't think meungrateful or unappreciative. But I cannot go on like this. I cannot!"
"I am afraid you have no choice," Nap said.
She scarcely heard him. At least she paid no heed. "Will you tell meexactly what has passed? Has he definitely refused to come to me?Because, if so--"
"If so--" said Nap gently.
She summoned her wavering self-control. "If so--I must go back to him atonce. I must indeed. You will manage it for me, will you not? Perhaps youwill take me yourself in the motor."
"No," said Nap. He spoke briefly, even sternly. He was bending down overher, and she caught the gleam of the firelight in his eyes and thoughtthat they shone red. "I would do a good deal for you, Lady Carfax," hesaid, "but I can't do that. You ask the impossible." He paused a momentand she felt his grasp slowly tighten upon her hand. "You want to knowwhat passed, and perhaps it is better that you should know even if itdistresses you. I sent a messenger in the motor to Sir Giles last nightto tell him of your accident and to beg him to return here with him. Hecame back alone with no definite reply. He did not, in fact, see SirGiles, though the message was delivered. I waited till noon today to seeif he would come, and then as there was no sign of him I went myself inthe motor to fetch him."
"Ah!" Anne's lips parted to utter the word. They were quiveringuncontrollably.
"I saw him," Nap went on very quietly. "I practically forced an entrance.He was in his study alone. I fancy he was feeling sick, but I didn't stopto inquire. I told him you were wanting him. I was quite kind to him--foryour sake." She fancied the grim lips smiled. "But I regret to say hedidn't appreciate my kindness, and I soon saw that he was in no state tocome to you even if he would. So--I left him and came away."
"Ah!" Again that faint exclamation that was like the half-uttered cry ofa woman's heart. "He wasn't--wasn't rude to you, I hope?"
Nap's teeth showed for an instant. He made no reply.
"Mr. Errol," she said beseechingly, "please tell me everything! He didnot--did not--"
"Kick me?" questioned Nap drily. "My dear lady, no man may kick Nap Erroland live. So I did not give him the opportunity."
She uttered a quick sob and turned her head upon the pillow. The tearswere running down her face.
The hand that pressed her wrist began to rub it very gently. "That'sthe worst of telling the truth," Nap said softly. "It is sure tohurt someone."
"I am glad you told me," she whispered back, "though I don't know what tosay to you--how to atone--"
"I will tell you then," he answered swiftly. "Stay quietly here and beas happy as you can till the doctor gives you leave to go back. You willhave to do it in any case, but--if you feel you owe me anything, which ofcourse you don't"--he smiled again, and his smile when free from cynicismheld a wonderful charm--"do it willingly--please do it willingly!"
She could not answer him in words, but her fingers closed upon his.Instantly she felt his answering pressure. A moment later he laid herhand down very gently and left her.