The Queen's Scarlet Part 60

"But you?" said the doctor now.

"Oh, never mind us; we can walk," said Miss Deane; and her aunt suppressed a groan.

"But it is a long distance," said the doctor.

"Don't talk of us when that poor lad may be dying," she cried. "You must ride with him and watch him."

"Yes, and send my chaise back," said the doctor eagerly. "Or--one moment; this would be better, if you would not mind riding on the box."

"Oh, pray, pray think of him!"

"I am thinking of him--and of you," said the doctor firmly. "We will not waste time. Let me help you up, and then I can drive this lady in my chaise and keep close by and have an eye to my patient as we go."

Anna Deane needed no a.s.sistance. She sprang up beside the driver, while her aunt was helped into the chaise. Then a thought struck her, and, taking out her purse, she emptied it into her hand, and beckoned to Joey, who came up, followed by Smiler, whose face had never looked so pleasantly full of admiration before.

"Will you pay all the men? Share it, please," she whispered. "Thank you, thank you so very much for what you've all done!"

The party of labourers followed till they had pa.s.sed the little roadside inn, where they stopped and stood watching till chaise and waggonette had pa.s.sed a corner of the road.

Then Joey turned to his companions, and opened his hand to count over the coins.

"There's four-and-twenty, Smiler," he said.

"And there's eight on us," said Smiler.

"And eight into twenty-four goes three times," said the man who left school last, amidst a murmur of satisfaction.

"Eight shillin's apiece," said Smiler.

"Get along with you," cried Joey. "Three shillin's apiece. Hands out, boys."

Seven hard palms were extended to him instantly, the coins counted into them, and Joey looked round.

"Before we can get to work again, boys, it'll be nigh time to leave off."

"Ay," was chorussed.

"There's a drop of yale nigh at hand, we're all dry and we've yearned it, so I says let's have one drink and then talk about it as we goes back."

"And so says all you," cried Smiler.

But they did not in words, only in acts; so that the aphides left on the hops enjoyed a few more leaves of life.

CHAPTER FORTY.

JERRY LETS OUT THE CAT.

That night, after the mess dinner, Jerry, when seeing about the coffee for his master, had a note given to him to take into the room, and this he handed to the lieutenant, who flushed a little as he recognised the hand, and, disregarding the smiles of those nearest to him, he read, hastily written:--

"Pray come at once! Aunt and I were out driving, and we found poor Smithson. We brought him here. He is wounded, and dying. I know no more."

"Anna."

The lieutenant sprang up excitedly, and strode to the colonel's side, giving him the note to read.

"Poor boy!" cried the colonel. "Then he did not desert. I'm glad of that. Doctor, Smithson is found. He is, it seems, badly hurt."

"Bless my soul!" cried the doctor.

"Yes. Will you go on with Lacey at once, and--My good fellow, are you mad?"

"Yes, sir, a'most," cried Jerry, whose appearance and action justified the colonel's question, for he had suddenly seized the old officer's arm and made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the note.

"Stand back, sir! Leave the room at once! Here, turn this scoundrel out."

"Keep off, or I'll do you a mischief," roared Jerry, as two of the men sprang at him, and they shrank from his menacing gesture. "Here, Mr Lacey, Colonel, I want to know--I will know--if S'Richard's hurt--"

"Sir Richard! The man's drunk," cried the colonel.

"No, I ain't; but it's enough to make me," roared Jerry. "I am drunk now with what you gents call indignation. If S'Richard's hurt, it's foul play, and it's that black-hearted, cheating, gambling hound as done it. Keep back!--d'yer hear? It's all over now. It's the cat out of the bag, and no mistake!"

"One moment, colonel," cried Lacey firmly. "Brigley never drinks.--Look here, my man, you said foul play. Do you know who was likely to injure Smithson?"

"Smithson!" cried Jerry in contemptuous tones. "I don't care; I will speak now. Smithson--do I know? Yes, sir, I do; and I ought to have spoke before, when he was missing first."

"Then speak out," said Lacey, and the angry frown upon the colonel's face began to change to a look of interest. "Who is the scoundrel that had a grudge against Smithson?"

"Tell you he ain't no Smithson!" roared Jerry, bringing his fist down upon the table and making the gla.s.ses jump and one fall to the floor with a crash. "He made me swear I wouldn't speak; but I will now. He's no Smithson. He's Sir Richard Frayne, Baronet, and the man as hurt him is his black-hearted cousin Mark, as calls himself 'Sir.' Him of the 310th."

"Stop, my man," cried the colonel. "This is a terribly serious charge to make against an officer and a gentleman."

"Officer!" cried Jerry, who was boiling over with hysterical excitement; "he deserves to have his uniform stripped off his back. Gentleman! as borrowed money on bills, and forged Sir Richard's name; said he didn't; and made the poor feller go off, leave everything, and come here and 'list."

"You are too excited, my man," said the colonel. "If all this is true--"

"True, sir? Bring me face to face with him--no: don't; for if he's killed that poor dear lad, I shall be hung for him as sure as I'm a man."

"Brigley," said the colonel, "you will be brought face to face with Sir Mark--"

"Mark--no _Sir_," cried Jerry hotly.

"Silence, man. You will be brought face to face with the officer you accuse. Meanwhile, you do not leave the barracks. You are under arrest."

"No, sir; pray, sir--Colonel, don't say that. Let me go and see him,"

cried Jerry, with the tears now streaming down his cheeks. "Mr Lacey, sir, say a word for me to the colonel. I must go to Sir Richard. If you shut me up--I can't help it, even if you shoot me for it--I shall desert."

"Silence, sir!"