Chapter 30
"I was standing, waiting to dart over here, when I saw a man come across the waste land and make for Pike's shed," said Mrs. Gum, looking at her husband. "It gave me a turn. We've never seen a soul go near the place of an evening since Pike has been there."
"Why should it give you a turn?" asked Mrs. Jones, who was in a mood to contradict everything. "You've seen Pike often enough not to be frightened at him when he keeps his distance."
"It wasn't Pike, Lydia. The man had an umbrella over him, and he looked like a gentleman. Fancy Pike with an umbrella!"
"Was it Mr. Hillary?" interposed the clerk.
She shook her head. "I don't think so; but it was getting too dark to see. Any way, it gave me a turn; and he's gone right up to Pike's shed."
"Gave you a turn, indeed!" scornfully repeated Mrs. Jones. "I think you're getting more of an idiot every day, Nance. It's to be hoped somebody's gone to take him up; that's what is to be hoped."
But Mr. Hillary it was. Hearing nothing from Jabez Gum all day, he had come to the conclusion that that respectable man had ignored his promise, and, unable to divest himself of the idea that Pike was ill, in the evening, having a minute to spare, he went forth to see for himself.
The shed-door was closed, but not fastened, and Mr. Hillary went in at once without ceremony. A lighted candle shed its rays around the rude dwelling-room: and the first thing he saw was a young man, who did not look in the least like Pike, stretched upon a mattress; the second was a bushy black wig and appurtenances lying on a chair; and the third was a formidable-looking pistol, conveniently close to the prostrate invalid.
Quick as thought, the surgeon laid his hand upon the pistol and removed it to a safe distance. He then bent over the sick man, examining him with his penetrating eyes; and what he saw struck him with consternation so great, that he sat down on a chair to recover himself, albeit not liable to be overcome by emotion.
When he left the shed--which was not for nearly half-an-hour after he had entered it--he heard voices at Clerk Gum's front-door. The storm was over, and their visitor was departing. Mr. Hillary took a moment's counsel with himself, then crossed the stile and appeared amongst them.
Nodding to the three collectively, he gravely addressed the clerk and his wife.
"I have come here to ask, in the name of our common humanity, whether you will put aside your prejudices, and be Christians in a case of need," he began. "I don't forget that once, when an epidemic was raging in Calne, you"--turning to the wife--"were active and fearless, going about and nursing the sick when almost all others held aloof. Will you do the same now by a helpless man?"
The woman trembled all over. Clerk Gum looked questioningly at the doctor. Mrs. Jones was taking in everything with eyes and ears.
"This neighbour of yours has caught the fever. Some one must
Gum, for our Saviour's sake--if from no other motive."
She trembled excessively. "I always was terribly afraid of that man, sir, since he came," said she, with marked hesitation.
"But he cannot harm you now. I don't ask you to go in to him one day after he is well again--if he recovers. Neither need you be with him as a regular nurse: only step in now and then to give him his physic, or change the wet cloths on his burning head."
Mrs. Jones found her voice. The enormous impudence of the surgeon's request had caused its temporary extinction.
"I'd see Pike in his coffin before I'd go a-nigh him as a nurse! What on earth will you be asking next, Mr. Hillary?"
"I didn't ask you, Mrs. Jones: you have your children to attend to; full employment for one pair of arms. Mrs. Gum has nothing to do with her time; and is near at hand besides. Gum, you stand in your place by Dr.
Ashton every Sunday, and read out to us of the loving mercy of G.o.d: will you urge your wife to this little work of charity for His sake?"
Jabez Gum evidently did not know what to answer. On the one hand, he could hardly go against the precepts he had to respond to as clerk; on the other, there was his scorn and hatred of the disreputable Arab.
"He's such a loose character, sir," he debated at length.
"Possibly: when he is well. But he is ill now, and could not be loose if he tried. Some one _must_ go in now and then to see after him: it struck me that perhaps your wife would do it, for humanity's sake; and I thought I'd ask her before going further."
"She can do as she likes," said Jabez.
Mrs. Gum--as unresisting in her nature as ever was Percival Elster--yielded to the prayer of the surgeon, and said she would do what she could. But she had never shown more nervousness over anything than she was showing as she gave her answer.
"Then I will step indoors and give you a few plain directions," said the surgeon. "Mrs. Jones has taken her departure, I perceive."
Mrs. Gum was as good as her word, and went in with dire trepidation.
Calne's sentiments, on the whole, resembled Mrs. Jones's, and the woman was blamed for her yielding nature. But she contrived, with the help of Mr. Hillary's skill, to bring the man through the fever; and it was very singular that no other person out of the Rectory took it.
The last one to take it at the Rectory was Mrs. Ashton. Of the three servants who had it, one had died; the other two recovered. Mrs. Ashton did not take it until the rest were well, and she had it lightly. Anne nursed her and would do so; and it was an additional reason for prolonging the veto against Lord Hartledon.
One morning in December, Val, in pa.s.sing down the road, saw the Rectory turned, as he called it, inside out. Every window was thrown open; curtains were taken down; altogether there seemed to be a comprehensive cleaning going on. At that moment Mr. Hillary pa.s.sed, and Val arrested him, pointing to the Rectory.
"Yes, they are having a cleansing and purification. The family went away this morning."
"Went where?" exclaimed Hartledon, in amazement.
"Dr. Ashton has taken a cottage near Ventnor."
"Had Mrs. Ashton quite recovered?"
"Quite: or they would not have gone. The Rectory has had a clean bill of health for some time past."
"Then why did they not let me know it?" exclaimed Val, in his astonishment and anger.
"Perhaps you didn't ask," said the surgeon. "But no visitors were sought.
Time enough for that when the house shall have been fumigated."
"They might have sent to me," he cried, in resentment. "To go away and never let me know it!"
"They may have thought you were too agreeably engaged to care to be disturbed," remarked the surgeon.
"What do you mean?" demanded Val, hotly.
Mr. Hillary laughed. "People will talk, you know; and rumour has it that Lord Hartledon has found attractions in his own home, whilst the Rectory was debarred to him."
Val wheeled round on his heel, and walked away in displeasure. Home truths are never palatable. But the kindly disposition of the man resumed its sway immediately: he turned back, and pointed to the shed.
"Is that interesting patient of yours on his legs again?"
"He is getting better. The disease attacked him fiercely and was unusually prolonged. It's strange he should have been the only one to take it."
"Gum's wife has been nursing him, I hear?"
"She has gone in and out to do such necessary offices as the sick require. I put it to her from a Christian point of view, you see, and on the score of humanity. She was at hand; and that's a great thing where the nurse is only a visiting one."
"Look here, Hillary; don't let the man want for anything; see that he has all he needs. He is a black sheep, no doubt; but illness levels us all to one standard. Good day."
"Good day, Lord Hartledon."
And when the surgeon had got to a distance with his quick step, Lord Hartledon turned back to the Rectory.