It May Be True Volume Ii Part 21

"I shall stay, whatever happens," he replied, decidedly.

Had he made up his mind to tell Amy he loved her?

"She would not like it," she replied, "would any woman like to think such a secret was found out?"

"What secret?"

"That of her love for him."

"For him! For who?"

"I thought you knew," replied Frances, quietly.

Too quietly, for her apathy maddened him, and he exclaimed angrily.

"For G.o.d's sake, Frances, speak out, you'll drive me mad with your cold replies and words!"

"Hush! Go away, she is coming to."

"I will not stir!" he replied, "until you tell me why she fainted."

"She saw them bring Mr. Vavasour into the hall, and--"

"How could she tell it was him?" he asked, suspiciously, with a half-doubt on his mind.

"I do not ask you to believe me," replied Frances haughtily, "you asked me to answer you, and I have done so."

"Not my last question."

"I should have thought a lady's word would have been sufficient; but as it is not so, you had better ask Joe, that man that comes here sometimes with Grant. I heard him tell Miss Neville it was Mr. Vavasour that had been killed, and then--"

"Then?" he asked.

"She fainted."

Whatever Charles thought, he said not a word; a determined, despairing expression stole over his face; he looked hard at Frances as if he would read her very soul, but she returned his look, and flinched not.

Presently a faint colour returned into Amy's face; he moved away, placed the gla.s.s he still held on the table, and said slowly, for even the tone of his voice had altered, and was unsteady and husky,

"Tell her _he_ is not dead,--not much hurt, even--"

And without a look, or even a glance at Amy, he went with a slow, uncertain step across the room. As he reached the door, Amy moved slightly and sighed, but ere she opened her eyes, the door had closed on his retreating form, and he was gone.

"Are you better now?" asked Frances kindly. She could afford to be kind now she thought the field was won, and Charles' heart turned from her, she hoped for ever.

"Thank you, yes," said Amy, confusedly, and striving to collect her thoughts. "How came I here? Who brought me?"

"Do not talk just yet, you are scarcely equal to it. One of the men carried you in here."

"One of the men? No one else saw me, then?"

"No one."

Then it could not have been Charles Linchmore's voice she had heard, as she lay only half-restored to consciousness? Nor his form she had dimly seen retreating through the half open door, as she opened her eyes? She must have fancied it.

"I was so shocked, Miss Strickland," began Amy, trying to make some apology for her fainting, "and you know I am not very strong yet, and--"

"Do not make any excuses, Miss Neville; the sight was enough to frighten anyone. I felt sick myself, but there was not much occasion for it, as I have ascertained Mr. Vavasour is not much hurt; but I thought, as you did, he was dead."

Amy made no reply, she was too truthful to do so. It was best Miss Strickland thought _that_ the reason and cause of her faintness.

"Had you not better remain a little longer?" continued Frances. "There is little chance of any one coming in here; and they will be all at supper presently."

But no--Amy felt well enough to go; longed to get away to the quiet of her own room, and went.

Dr. Bernard, hastily aroused from his sleep, came and stayed all night at the Park. He corroborated Charles's opinion: Mr. Vavasour's was but a slight wound. The faintness and insensibility that had alarmed them so, proceeded more from the effects of a severe blow on the head, which had stunned him for the time being. In a few days, with a little quiet nursing, he would be all right again; so the excitement and fears of everyone tamed down, and the supper prepared at Charles's suggestion was partaken of heartily by everyone but himself, and he was nowhere.

Two of the poachers had been overpowered, after a desperate resistance, and taken; but the rest, all armed with sticks, or some other weapon of defence, had succeeded in getting clear away, though not without injuring, not only Robert Vavasour, but two of the night watchers also.

One man kept his bed for weeks afterwards, and was unable even to appear and give evidence against the two men who had been taken; one supposed to be the man who had fired the shot, either purposely or accidentally, that had wounded Robert, while at the same moment a severe blow from some murderous weapon felled him to the earth, and in the confusion which this occasioned the rest got clear away, though not without a suspicion that some of them had been disabled by the shower of blows with which they were a.s.sailed; they proved themselves, as Charles and others had hinted they were, a desperate set of ruffians, whom the recent violent death of one of their band had in no wise alarmed, but the rather made them thirst to revenge it.

Charles Linchmore was up betimes the next morning, and away across the park long before any of its inmates save the servants were stirring. He had pa.s.sed a sleepless night. At one time Amy's love for Vavasour appeared as clear as day; the next he doubted, and could not make up his mind that it was indeed so. Morning found him still unreconciled to the thought, still undecided. Frances might have been mistaken; he would seek Joe, and find out what had been told Amy. It was impossible the man could have any interest in telling him a lie.

He had not far to walk, Joe met him at the lodge gate, where he was evidently detailing to the man and his wife who kept it, an exaggerated account of the last night's affray.

"Good morning, Joe," began Charles, "how are you and the rest after last night's work? and where are you off to now?" as Joe touched his cap, and was proceeding onwards.

"Up to the house, Sir. The Master bade me bring news this morning of the two men who got hurt, Sir."

"Well, how are they?"

"There ain't much the matter with one, Sir; but Jem's awful bad, his head swelled most as big's two, Sir. Mr. Blane--the village doctor--wouldn't give much for his life, I reckon."

"Your Master will be sorry to hear it. And now, Joe, I want a word with you. How came you to tell one of the ladies last night that Mr.

Vavasour was dead?"

"Please, Sir, I couldn't help it; the lady did look so kind of beseeching at me, and tried to speak; but, poor lady, she was that bad at heart she couldn't say a word. I could no more refuse nor tell her, Sir, I should have been afeard to; unless I'd had a heart as hard as a _haythen's_, and I hadn't, Sir, so just out with the news, and--"

"That will do; be more cautious in future."

And away went Charles with still faster strides than before; half over the park and then home again, and up to his room, where he thrust his things hastily into his portmanteau; it was but a few minutes' work, and then he was off downstairs again. Here he met Anne.

"Why Charles," said she, "where have you been all the morning? We have finished breakfast. What a lazy creature you are!"

"I am going to make a start of it," replied he. "I am off to join again."

"Going back to your regiment!" exclaimed Anne in amazement at the sudden announcement. "When?"

"Now, this moment."