XXV
It was early in July that all this happened. Before I cared to hear any more of what had subsequently taken place, the summer had slipped away and the autumnal tints were spreading across the hills and valleys.
At the psychological moment I was saved from death. Some one happened to see the dog enter the ruins, and had the curiosity to follow him, in order to find out what he was doing there, and what had changed a hunted, starved beast into a well-fed-looking animal—for he was a notorious sheep-killer, whom the neighboring folk had been chasing for days. When they found me, I had been secured to the pillar for a week, and had lost my reason under the strain of that awful durance.
This merciful madness was followed by a dull, apathetic acquiescence in things around me which caused great distress to those who nursed me back to life and sanity. For a long time after the doctors had pronounced me out of danger, and even for some time after they declared me to be once more in possession of my senses, I betrayed no knowledge of certain familiar faces that hovered about my bedside, and evinced no disposition to ask questions. I was numb and dumb.
When I dozed, or fell asleep, those watching by me were sometimes frozen with terror at the sudden shriek or groan which showed that the horrors of my recent situation were still circling about my enfeebled brain. I realized only that I was very tired, very sorely wounded. I have faint recollections, indeed, of wondering what it was that had crushed me mentally and physically; but it was seldom that I ever thought of anything. Although I was conscious that I was alive, I possessed no energy for any mental process. To lie like a log, inert and passive, was all that lay within me.
I came out of this state somewhat suddenly. I was fully aware that I was back at Annalleen, and one day I had recognized that I was not in the room I had formerly occupied there, but in a larger and brighter one. I recognized faces, too—those of Princess Amirel, of Sir Desmond, of Deasy—and I became familiar with that of the doctor. Another face which became very familiar was that of my nurse.
As I grew stronger, I began to wonder why I did not see Nancy Flynn.
It was on a September day, bright, full of autumnal lights and shadows, that I began to show interest in my surroundings. For some days I had spent an hour or two, out of the few during which I was really awake, on a lounge near the window. The browns and reds and yellows of the trees across the park had interested me as colors interest a child. As I lay watching the sunlight playing across them, there came to me through the open window the scent of a fragrant cigar, and it woke memories which other things had seemed powerless to arouse.
I spoke quite unconsciously, voicing instinctively the thought that flashed into my mind as I caught the smell of the tobacco.
“I wish to Heaven they'd give me a cigar!” I said.
Before the words were well out of my mouth a soft footstep sounded at my side, and I turned my head and saw one of the strange faces which had become familiar—that of the nurse.
“So you would like to smoke a cigar?” she said. “The scent attracts you?”
“I don't know how long it is since I had a smoke,” I said; “but I'd like one now, even if it were a cigarette.”
She made no answer, but went quietly out of the room, to return presently with a cigarette and a box of matches. It was very mild tobacco, but I smoked it through, and felt all the better for it.
While I was smoking it in came Sir Desmond Adare, with outstretched hand and genial smile. He sat down and chatted about the beauty of the afternoon, stayed exactly five minutes, made an excuse for his departure, and went off. The cigarette and his visit gave me an accession of strength.
At last there came a day when I was to talk of what had happened. Inspector Harland came over from London, and to him, to Sir Desmond, and to the latter's solicitors I told my story briefly. In return they told me of my rescue, at the end of a week's imprisonment, and of their discovery of the remains of Count Hofberg and Samuel Jefferson. They also told me that much had been gathered from my delirious ravings, and that the suspicions aroused by the disappearance of Carburton, or Hartopp, and Patty Moore had been confirmed by what I had said of them at disjointed intervals.
“And there, Mr. Hanmer,” said Harland, who had told me most of the story, “there we come to an end. Everything possible has been done. We have raised the hue and cry for those two all over the world, and so far it has been without result. They have disappeared as completely as if the earth had swallowed them.”
This was a surprise which I had not expected, and at that time the doctor, who was present and kept a watchful eye on me, would allow no further conversation on the matter; but afterward, as my strength increased, Adare and I talked much of it, and formed many conclusions and theories. In truth, however, the thing was a mystery, and at the end of three months after their disappearance Hartopp and his accomplice were still unheard of.
I guessed instinctively, as I grew in strength, that there had been various happenings at Annalleen during my illness, and that among them was the marriage of Sir Desmond and Princess Amirel; so I was not surprised when he brought her to see me one afternoon, and introduced me to his wife. He was very kind and thoughtful about it, and he showed a fine consideration when he made some excuse for leaving us together.
“It is not the first time you have been left in my wife's charge,” he said laughingly. “I can assure you she has earned a diploma in nursing, and I shall have no hesitation in recommending her for honors.”
Then he went away. A silence fell upon both of us.
“Our adventure has ended in a poor way, I fear, Mr. Hanmer,” she said. “Will you ever forgive me for leading you into this?”
I tried to laugh.
“Princess,” I said, “do you think I am the sort of man who would be led into anything?”
Then she laughed, too, and a certain awkwardness in the situation was saved.
“You are fonder, perhaps, of having your own way,” she said; “but after all, Mr. Hanmer, had it not been for me, you would not have gone through these horrors, and I shall never forgive myself if they leave a trace upon you.”
“As to that,” said I, “I think it was Nancy and I who led all of us into difficulties. We were too much in love with the romantic side of our adventure. Nancy's demure maid was very clever, princess, and the sight of your jewels was no doubt extremely tempting to a young woman whose lover happened to be an accomplished cracksman; so amethyst and jewels are gone—and I have failed!”
“There is one thing in which you made a great success,” she murmured, averting her face from me.
“I am glad to hear that,” I answered, “but I can't guess what it is.”
“Do you not know that when that dreadful scene happened in which I—I drew off my ring, I meant—I meant to break with Sir Desmond?” she said. “Now I want to thank you for preventing it. If you had been less prompt in sending him into that room to me, he—he would not have seen me again. I can never feel sufficiently grateful to you for doing what you did!
It had to be said, and I had to listen, and I knew that she was saying the things that lay deep in her heart. I spoke with equal frankness.
“Then I am rewarded,” I said. “I am glad you have told me this, for now I know that you have married the man whom you love and who loves you, and that all will be well with you. I am very glad.”
She rose then and held out her hand, and I kissed it once, and my heart said good-by to her, although my lips said nothing. After that she sat down again at the side of my couch, and began to talk of other matters, and principally of Nancy—who, it appeared, had been obliged to leave for town before my return to convalescence, but was kept in daily news of my progress,
I learned that Nancy had kept up an almost perpetual attendance on me during the days when I lay so near death that no one expected my return to life, and that she had steadily refused to leave me, although more than one urgent matter required her presence, until I was out of danger. For the rest of that afternoon, and during many afternoons that followed, Princess Amirel and I talked much of Nancy Flynn.