The Knave of Diamonds Part 75

Lucas opened his eyes again, opened them wide, and fixed them steadily, searchingly, upon his brother's face.

"You'll play the straight game with me, Boney?" he questioned. "You won't try to back out?" Then, in a different tone, "No, don't, answer! Forgive me for asking! I know you."

"I guess you do," Nap said, with the ghost of a smile, "better even than I know myself. You know just how little I am to be trusted."

"I trust you, Boney, absolutely, implicitly, from the bottom of my soul."

The words left Lucas Errol's lips with something of the solemnity of an oath. He held out a quiet hand.

"Now let me sleep," he said.

Nap rose. He stood for a moment in silence, holding the friendly hand, as if he wished to speak, but could not. Then suddenly he bent.

"Good-night, dear chap!" he said in a whisper, and with the words he stooped and kissed the lined forehead of the man who trusted him....

Half an hour later the door of the adjoining room opened noiselessly and Tawny Hudson peered in.

One brother was sleeping, the quiet, refreshing sleep of a mind at rest.

The other sat watching by his side with fixed inscrutable eyes.

The latter did not stir, though in some indefinable way he made Tawny Hudson know that he was aware of his presence, and did not desire his closer proximity. Obedient to the unspoken command, the man did not come beyond the threshold; but he stood there for many seconds, glowering with the eyes of a monstrous, malignant baboon.

When at length he retired he left the door ajar, and a very curious smile flickered across Nap's face.

But still he did not turn his head.

CHAPTER XIV

AT THE GATE OF DEATH

The second time that Tawny Hudson was driven from his master's side was on a day of splendid spring--English April at its best.

Till the very last moment he lingered, and it was Lucas himself with his final "Go, Tawny!" who sent him from the room. They would not even let him wait, as Nap was waiting, till the anaesthetic had done its work.

Black hatred gripped the man's heart as he crept away. What was Nap anyway that he should be thus honoured? The cloud that had attended his coming had made a deep impression upon Hudson. He had watched the lines upon his master's face till he knew them by heart. He knew when anxiety kept the weary eyes from closing. He knew when the effort of the mind was more than the body could endure. Of Lucas's pleasure at his brother's return he raised no question, but that it would have been infinitely better for him had Nap remained away he was firmly convinced. And he knew with the sure intuition that unceasing vigilance had developed in him that Capper thought the same.

Capper resented as he did the intrusion of the black sheep of the family. But Capper was obviously powerless--even Capper, who so ruthlessly expelled him from his master's presence, had proved impotent when it came to removing Nap.

There was a mysterious force about Nap that no one seemed able to resist. He, Hudson, had felt it a hundred times, had bowed to it in spite of himself. He called it black magic in his own dark heart, and because of it his hatred almost amounted to a mania. He regarded him with superst.i.tion, as a devilish being endowed with h.e.l.lish powers that might at any moment be directed against his enemies. And he feared his influence over Lucas, even though with all his monstrous imaginings he recognised the fact of Lucas's ascendency. He had a morbid dread lest some day his master should be taken unawares, for in Nap's devotion he placed not a particle of faith. And mingled with his fears was a burning jealousy that kept hatred perpetually alive. There was not one of the duties that he performed for his master that Nap had not at one time or another performed, more swiftly, more satisfactorily, with that devilish deftness of his that even Capper had to admire and Hudson could never hope to achieve. And in his inner soul the man knew that the master he idolised preferred Nap's ministrations, Nap's sure and dexterous touch, to his.

And so on that day of riotous spring he waited with murder in his heart to see his enemy emerge from the closed room.

But he waited in vain. No hand touched the door against which he stood.

Within the room he heard only vague movements, and now and then Capper's voice, sharp and distinct, giving a curt order. Two doctors and two nurses were there to do his bidding, to aid him in the working of his miracle; two doctors, two nurses, and Nap.

Gradually as the minutes pa.s.sed the truth dawned upon the great half-breed waiting outside. Against Capper's wish, probably in defiance of it, Nap was remaining for the operation itself. Suspicion deepened swiftly to conviction, and a spasm of indignation akin to frenzy took possession of the man. Doubtless Capper had remonstrated without result, but he--he, Tawny Hudson--could compel. Fiercely he turned and pulled the handle of the door.

It resisted him. He had not heard the key turned upon him, yet undeniably the door was locked. Fury entered into him. Doubtless this also was the work of his enemy. He seized the handle, twisted, dragged, wrenched, till it broke in his hand and he was powerless.

No one within the room paid any attention to him. No one came to open; and this fact served to inflame him further. For a few lurid moments Tawny Hudson saw red. He gathered his huge bull-frame together and flung the whole weight of it against the resisting wood. He was powerless to force the lock, as the door opened towards him, but this fact did not discourage him. It scarcely entered into his reckoning. He was nothing at the moment but a savage beast beyond all reasoning and beyond control.

The panels resisted his violent onslaught, but he was undaunted. With scarcely a pause he drew off and prepared for another. But at the very instant that he was about to hurl himself the second time, a voice spoke on the other side of the door.

"Tawny!"

Tawny stood as if transfixed, his eyes starting, b.e.s.t.i.a.l foam upon his lips.

"Tawny!" said the voice again--the voice of his enemy, curt and imperious. "Go and find Mr. Bertie, and tell him he is wanted."

Through the closed door the magic reached the frenzied man. He remained motionless for a few seconds, but the order was not repeated. At the end of the interval the magic had done its work. He turned and slunk away.

A minute later Bertie, very pale and stern, presented himself at the closed door.

"What is it, Nap?"

Contemptuously clear came the answer. "Nothing here. Stay where you are, that's all, and keep that all-fired fool Hudson from spoiling his master's chances."

Bertie turned to look at the man who had come up behind him, and in turning saw the door-handle at his feet.

He pointed to it. "Your doing?"

Hudson shrank under the accusing blue eyes so like his master's. He began to whimper like a beaten dog.

Bertie picked up the k.n.o.b. "Poor devil!" he muttered; and then aloud: "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Do you call this a man's game?"

Tawny cringed in abject misery. He was completely subdued. With the smallest encouragement he would have grovelled at Bertie's feet.

Bertie came away from the door and sat down. His own anxiety was almost insupportable, but he cloaked it with determined resolution. "Sit down there!" he said, pointing to a distant chair. "And don't move until I give you leave."

Meekly the man obeyed him, sitting crouched, his head between his hands.

Bertie regarded him with a severity more a.s.sumed than actual. He had not the heart to send him away. He knew it would have been sheer cruelty.

A long time pa.s.sed. Neither of the two watchers stirred. Tawny Hudson did not even seem to breathe. He sat like a human image of despair.

Noon came and pa.s.sed. Somewhere in the distance church bells began to peal. Bertie started a little. He had forgotten it was Sunday. Dot would be just driving home from church. She would not come to Baronmead, he knew. It had been her original intention, but he had dissuaded her. He knew that she was very anxious, but he would not have her run the risk of a shock. If the operation failed, if Luke were to die, he would tell her himself. He knew that he could soften the blow as none other could.

It was nearly one when at last the closed door opened. Bertie was on his feet in an instant. Dr. Randal came quietly out, glanced round, stopped.

"It is over. We have taken him into the inner room, and he is recovering consciousness. No, don't go to him. His man mustn't go either. We want all these doors open, wide open, the windows too. But no one is to go near. He must have absolute quiet."

He propped open the door as he spoke. His face was very grave.

"Remember," he said, "that the banging of this door or any sudden sound may mean the end."