He hoped very much that she would not swoon away, or fall into hysterics, and was at first relieved that she neither moved nor spoke. Then he saw that not only was she alarmingly pale, but her eyes were staring at him blindly, and he had a horrid fear that perhaps she was about to have a spasm. But when she spoke, it was in a strangely calm voice that seemed to come from a long way away. “You said—very ill. Did you mean—dead?”
“No, upon my honour!” he answered eagerly. “And the doctor assured us that the bullet didn’t touch a vital spot, but he lost so much blood, in spite of Amanda’s doing all she could to stanch it—which, I must say, she did—and it was in so deep, that he may become feverish, and there is only Amanda to nurse him—though I am ready to do anything in my power—because she won’t let the midwife touch him. She says she is dirty and rough, and for my part I think she’s an elbow-crooker, because she reeks of spirits.”
She listened to this not very lucid speech intently, but it was apparently beyond her comprehension, for when he stopped she got up, and went to him, laying her hand on his sleeve, and saying: “I beg your pardon, but I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me. I think there has been an accident, has there not? And Sir Gareth was hurt, but not fatally?”
“Yes—that is, I never meant to shoot him, I swear!”
“Oh, no, I am sure you could not have meant to!”
These soothing words, and the smile that went with them, made him say impulsively: “I was afraid you would be very angry. But Amanda said you would not, ma’am—though when you learn the whole—”
“I don’t think I shall be angry. But I should be very much obliged to you if you would sit down beside me here, on the sofa, and tell me just how it happened, because at present it does seem very odd to me that Sir Gareth should have been shot. Unless, of course, you had taken your gun out after wood-pigeons, and shot him by accident?”
“Worse!” uttered Hildebrand, with a groan. “I held up his chaise!”
“But he wasn’t travelling in a chaise,” said Lady Hester.
“Yes, he was, ma’am. A hired chaise, to carry him and Amanda to Bedford.”
“Is that where she lives?” Lady Hester asked hopefully.
“Oh, no! At least, I don’t know, but I shouldn’t think so. He was meaning to hire a better chaise there, for they only had one at Kimbolton, and the shabbiest old thing! That is where I fell in with them. I am on my way to Wales.”
“Now I begin to understand!” she said, pleased to find that he was not, as she had begun to fear, suffering from sun-stroke. “I daresay you fell into conversation with Amanda, and that is how it all came about. What a resourceful girl she is, to be sure!”
“Yes, I suppose she is,” he said reluctantly. “Though it wasn’t she who thought of holding up the chaise. I thought of it!”
“I expect you are very resourceful too,” she said kindly.
“Well, I did think of that—not that I wish to boast, and of course I see now that it was very wrong—but from the way Amanda talks, you would imagine—You see, ma’am, this is how it was!”
He then poured into her ears an account of the whole affair. He discovered her to be a good listener, and since she did not put him out by uttering exclamations of horror or condemnation, he was encouraged to confide everything to her, even his own unfortunate weakness, which he could not mention without severe mortification. Indeed, he found it difficult to describe the scene in the lane without turning squeamish, and he was not at all surprised that his words drove the colour out of Lady Hester’s cheeks again. “It was horrible!” he muttered, covering his face with his hands, and shuddering. “Horrible!”
“Yes,” she agreed faintly. “But you said—surely you said!—not fatal?”
“Dr. Chantry told us that he did not anticipate that it would be so, but he says he must be most carefully nursed, and that is why Amanda made me come to fetch you, because she doesn’t know where his sister lives, or even what her name is.”
“To fetch me?” she said, startled. “But—” She stopped, looking at him blankly.
“Oh, if you please, wont you come?” Hildebrand begged. “I told Amanda I was sure you would not, but the case is desperate, and even if you tell me where to find Sir Gareth’s sister it must be at least two days before she could reach him, and it might be too late! And, what is more,” he added, bethinking himself of a fresh difficulty, “I don’t think I have enough money left to pay for such an expensive journey.”
“Oh, if only I could come!” she said, in an anguished tone. She got up quickly, and began to walk about the room. “You see, it isn’t possible! My father has gone to Brighton, but there is still my brother, and his wife, and the servants—” Again she stopped, but this time it was as though an idea had occurred to her. Hildebrand watched her anxiously. Suddenly her myopic gaze focused on his face, and she smiled. “Dear me, what a very poor creature I must seem to you! You see, I have never been in the habit of doing anything at all out of the way, so you must forgive me for not immediately thinking that I could. I daresay nothing could be easier. After all, Amanda contrived to escape from her home without the least difficulty, and I expect she was much more closely watched than I am. Let me consider a little!”
He waited in pent-up silence, venturing after a few moments to say: “I have a chaise waiting outside, if—if you feel that you could come with me, ma’am.”
“Have you? Oh, well, that makes everything perfectly simple!” she said, her worried frown lightening. “I shall tell the servants that you have come to me from my sister, Lady Ennerdale. I wonder what can have happened at Ancaster? The children, of course—they must be ill! Now, was it the Ennerdale children who had measles two years ago, or was it my sister Milford’s children. No, the Ennerdales have not had the measles: it was whooping-cough, now I come to think of it. Very well, they shall have the measles—all five of them, which would quite account for my sister’s desiring me to go to her.” She smiled vaguely upon Hildebrand, and said, gathering her half-train up: “Will you wait while I direct my woman to pack for me? My sister-in-law has driven to Ely, and I do not expect her to return until dinner-time. My brother is somewhere on the estate, but even if he were to come in, I daresay we may fob him off very easily. Do you think, in case you found yourself obliged to answer any awkward questions, you could decide how it comes about that my sister sent you to fetch me rather than one of her servants? It seems an odd thing for her to have done, but I am sure you will think of a very good reason. Sir Matthew Ennerdale-Ancaster—three boys and two girls, and poor little Giles is very sickly, and my sister sadly nervous!”
With these cryptic words, she went away, leaving Hildebrand quite as nervous as Lady Ennerdale. He hoped devoutly that Lord Widmore would not come in: the information conveyed to him by Lady Hester seemed to him meagre.
Upstairs, Lady Hester overcame the difficulty of answering Povey’s surprised questions by ignoring them. This, since she knew herself to be in disgrace, did not astonish Povey, but when she learned that she was not to accompany her mistress to the stricken household she was moved to the heart, and burst into tears. Lady Hester was sorry for her distress, but since some explanation would have to be forthcoming for her unprecedented conduct in going away unattended by her maid, she thought the best thing to do would be to pretend that she was still too angry with Povey to wish for her company. So she said, with gentle coldness: “No, Povey, I do not want you. Lady Ennerdale’s woman will do all I require. Do not pack any evening gowns, if you please: they will not be needed.”
At any other time, Povey would have expostulated, for however ill Lady Ennerdale’s offspring might be it was in the highest degree unlikely that her ladyship would collapse into a state of what she, as well as Povey, would certainly consider to be squalor. But the awful punishment that had been meted out to her possessed her mind so wholly that it was not until much later that the strange nature of the packing she had mechanically performed occurred to her. It was conceivable that Lady Hester might discover a need for hartshorn, but what she wanted with a roll of flannel, or why she insisted on taking her own pillow to her sister’s well-appointed house, were matters that presently puzzled Povey very much indeed.