Peregrine's Progress Part 84

"The lady," said I, trembling and indignant, "was a poor distracted creature I found on my way--"

"Precisely, dear fellow! So here am I to lend you such a.s.sistance in the matter as a friend may. No reason to worry yourself, only in heaven's name be a little discreet, Perry--discretion's the word,"

"Discretion be d.a.m.ned!"

"Precisely, old fellow! And now only mention how I may a.s.sist you in this unfortunate situation?"

"By listening to me!"

"Ears wide open, Perry."

So I told him briefly of the storm, how, dazed and shaken after being thrown by Wildfire, I wandered into the wood and came upon the poor, distracted girl and brought her back with me to the "Soaring Lark." To all of which he listened, tap-tapping softly with his foot.

"Ha--outside that accursed house!" he exclaimed, when I had done. "The place should be burned down!" And then in a different tone, glancing at me somewhat askance, "But then, Perry--egad--don't ye see this does not explain your abrupt departure from the reception and flight from London--now does it?"

"Not in the least, Anthony. Nor can I offer any explanation."

Here Anthony pursed his lips to a soundless whistle and began his soft tap-tapping again.

"Diana was--deeply hurt," said he at last. "Every hour she is grieving for you--breaking her heart, Perry--as we sit here."

"For G.o.d's sake, Anthony," I cried pa.s.sionately, "keep your feet still!"

"Eh? Oh, begad, forgive me, Perry! Consequently, she will be overjoyed to learn you are here safe. She will post down to you as fast as horses can bring her--"

"Need she know, Anthony?" At this he turned with a kind of leap and glanced at me with a startled expression.

"Lord, man--you are really ill!" he exclaimed.

"Ill or no, Anthony, if you are truly my friend and value my friendship, promise me--swear to me she shall not come near me!"

"Egad, Peregrine, you are d.a.m.ned ill!"

"Promise--promise! Swear me this, Anthony!" cried I, starting up in bed to grasp at him with eager hands. And then came Mary, running, to clasp me in eager arms and lay me back among the pillows.

"Mr. Anthony!" she cried. "Oh, Mr. Anthony, didn't I warn 'ee not to excite 'im then--oh, Mr. Anthony!"

Lying thus helpless, I felt myself shaken as by an ague fit, saw Anthony staring down at me fearful-eyed ere he crept from the room, felt an arm beneath my head, a cup at my lips and, drinking thirstily, lay awhile staring up at the ceiling, where red wheels seemed to spin through the mist of a gossamer veil spangled with gold stars.

It lay curling across my pillow close to my eyes, stirring gently as if endowed with life, a delicate, shimmering filament, never quite at rest, that glowed where the light caught it, and I watched it drowsily until, hearing a stealthy sound, I glanced up to behold my uncle George standing beside the bed.

"Why, Peregrine," said he softly, his handsome face unwontedly grave, "how are you, dear lad?"

"Thank you--I am greatly better and here is a hair on the pillow, Uncle George! This is neither your hair nor mine, and Mrs. Mary's is brown, as I remember. So whose hair is this, Uncle George?"

"Hair?" he repeated, fumbling with his whisker. "I don't see any hair, Perry."

"Here on my pillow, Uncle."

"Well, what of it, lad. Your Aunt Julia's, perhaps--"

"Hers is black. And this is--not black, you'll notice, sir, and--very long."

"Why, so 't is! But if it distresses you--there, away with it!"

"But whose is it?" I persisted.

"Lord, Perry, how should I know--why worry about such a trifle.

Compose yourself, dear lad. I'll have 'em wake Julia, she was up with you all night--egad, she'll be overjoyed to see you so much better--"

"Pray no--don't disturb her. Have I been here long?"

"Nine days, Peregrine--touch and go--knocking at death's door, boy--and raving like any madman."

"What--what about, sir?" I questioned, beginning to tremble.

"A lot o' wild nonsense, Perry--"

"What, sir--what?" I demanded.

"There, there, lad--don't distress yourself. 'T was nothing to signify--mere sick fancies."

"Fancies concerning what, Uncle George?"

"Well, something about red wheels and a drowned woman in a wood, a wall, and a door, and suchlike idle stuff. Y' see, Perry, not content with getting yourself wet through, you must let that brute of a horse o' yours throw you on to your head; doctors say 't is a marvel you're alive, and begad, Perry lad, 'tis our firm belief, Jervas and mine, that you'd ha' died if it hadn't been for your wonderful aunt and Diana--watched over you like the angels they are--saved your life betwixt 'em--"

The room seemed to go suddenly black and from the awful darkness my uncle babbled cheerily, while I, smitten by a nauseous faintness, strove to speak yet could not.

"Uncle George," said I at last, "is--is she here--now?"

"Who, Diana? No, lad. But be patient, she's only out riding with Barbara--was with you here all day, she'll be back soon--be patient, she's never long away from you these days, b'gad--"

"No!" cried I, shuddering, "no! Don't let her come near me--don't let her touch me--send her away or I shall die!"

"Good G.o.d!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed my uncle George, glancing about helplessly.

"He's off again--this cursed fever--must call Julia."

"Don't!" said I, reaching out a feeble hand in supplication. "This is--not fever, sir. This is my conscious self imploring you to keep her away from me, or I shall truly die--or run mad--"

"O Peregrine--O Peregrine," he stammered, in choking voice, "this can't be you--to say such things--so cruel--this is your old delirium--you are raving again--you must be--"

"Before G.o.d, sir, speaking in all sanity, I beg and implore that you will--keep her from me."

"Oh, d.a.m.nation--this is awful!" exclaimed my uncle, his handsome face looking strangely haggard. "Day and night in your delirium you have lain cursing Diana and with Diana's hand upon your brow and Diana's tears wetting your pillow--and now--O Peregrine, lad, tell me you don't mean it--that you are a little fevered, yes--yes, people at such times often turn against those they most love--will kill Diana else--"

"Or she me, sir--so keep her away--don't let her touch me--I'll not see her, I say--I'll not, by G.o.d--I'll not--"

"Hush--hush! Don't scream, lad, don't scream!"