Nurse Elisia Part 44

"Father, for Heaven's sake," said Neil, bending over him; but the old man waved him back, and he shrank away, ignorant of the fact that Saxa's cry had brought Nurse Elisia to the door, where she stood appalled at the old man's aspect.

"Tell Saxa it is a lie."

"I cannot, sir," said Neil firmly. "You force from me the truth."

"What!" panted Elthorne.

"It would be deceiving Saxa Lydon, and lying against Elisia, the woman I love hopelessly, but with all my heart."

"You have killed him!"

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

"THE WOMAN IS A WITCH."

It was Saxa Lydon who said those words, for the old man's face became suddenly convulsed; his head dropped back, and, as Neil sank on one knee and pa.s.sed his arm beneath the neck, it turned sidewise, with the eyes seeming to gaze reproachfully into his, but there was neither sight nor understanding then.

The grey dawn was creeping into the room when Ralph Elthorne recovered consciousness, and looked up questioningly in his son's face.

But he did not speak for a time, only let his eyes wander about the room, and they saw that he appeared to be noting who were present, his gaze resting long on both his sons, his daughter, sister, and the nurse.

At last he spoke.

"Isabel."

She ran to his side, and sank upon her knees.

"The girls?" he said feebly. "Saxa--Dana?"

"They went home, papa, dear, about two," whispered Isabel; "but don't try to talk, now. Look at me, and I'll try to understand what you mean."

He took no notice of her prayer, but closed his eyes, and lay apparently thinking, his next words indicating that he recalled what had taken place.

"Yes," he said gently; "they could not stay here. Tell Alison and your aunt to go and then you go too."

Neil advanced just then to watch his father narrowly, but the old man made no sign of anger. He lay quite calm and still, as if utterly exhausted, but his son noted that he watched until Aunt Anne and Alison had gone, when he unclosed his eyes fully, and whispered to Isabel to leave.

"May I not stay, papa? I may be wanted."

"No. You have been here all night. Kiss me and go--"

Isabel bent down weeping, pressed her lips on her father's brow, and then left the room, with Nurse Elisia and Neil both watching patiently as the stricken man's eyes remained fast shut.

But he was quite conscious, for upon Neil approaching the couch after a time, his lips parted.

"I am not asleep," he said, gently, "only very weak. You need not both stay."

Neil looked at his father wonderingly, and with something of dread, the old man seemed so pa.s.sionless and strange.

Just then the invalid opened his eyes and gazed full at his son.

"I know what I am saying," he said quietly. "I recollect all that has pa.s.sed, but I am too weak and helpless to speak much. Nurse!"

She went to his side.

"Let him stay with me. You can go for an hour or two. I am not going to die--yet."

She looked at him keenly, and then at Neil, as if to question him, but she did not speak.

"The danger is past," he said quietly. "You can safely go for a time."

"Then set me free, sir," she cried, quickly, her woman's nature a.s.serting itself now above the habit of the pa.s.sionless trained nurse.

"If there were danger, I would stay, but you say it is past; and it is impossible for me to stay here after what has happened."

"There is no reason now, madam," said Neil coldly. "I am doctor, and you are the nurse. You need not fear that I shall speak again. You cannot leave my father yet."

She looked at him wildly, and then, growing momentarily less self-controlled, she avoided his eyes and turned to the invalid, bending down over him gently.

"Mr Elthorne," she said; "you have heard your son's words as regards your state. I cannot stay here now. Give me your permission to go."

He looked at her sadly, and feebly shook his head.

"No, nurse," he whispered huskily. "You cannot go. Not yet--not yet."

She started, for he raised his hand, took hers and held it while he gazed half wonderingly in her face, as Neil, unable to conceal his feelings, hurried away to his own room.

"I am not fit to be left, nurse," said Ralph Elthorne gently. "You know how ill and weak I am."

A sob rose in her throat as she tried to be calm, while he gazed intently in her face, scanning each feature.

"So weak, so helpless," he muttered, as if to himself, but she heard every word; "and I never thought of this, I never thought of this. Yes, Anne. You wish to see me?"

"Yes, dear," said that lady, who had entered now unannounced even by a tap on the door. "Yes, Ralph. I want to speak to you very particularly." He turned to Nurse Elisia, and spoke in an apologetic manner, and very feebly.

"Leave us, please, nurse," he said. "I will talk to you later on."

"No, sir," she whispered. "Give me leave to go."

"Not yet, not yet," he replied. "I will lie here and think. It is all so sudden." Then, with a sudden flash of his old manner, "No; you are not to go until I give you leave."

She glanced at Aunt Anne, who had ignored her presence entirely, and then she went slowly to the room set apart for her use, asking herself how all this would end, and whether it would not be wiser to leave the house at once, and end the painful position in which she stood.

"Well, Anne, dear," said Mr Elthorne feebly. "You want to speak to me?"

"Yes, Ralph, I must speak to you now."

"Speak gently, then, dear; I am much weaker. Not so well to-day."

"And never will be well again, Ralph, with the house in this state,"