“They don’t seem very much broken-hearted about the poor old dad, Neil,” said Alison.
“No,” cried his brother, flashing out angrily. “I wonder sometimes whether – no, no, we can’t discuss that now, with him lying like that,” he added hastily, and he went back into the house to find that Beck still lingered.
Neil looked at him reproachfully and the young sailor caught his arm.
“I have not gone,” he said. “I’m staying in case I can be of any use.”
“Thanks,” said Neil shortly. Then a thought struck him, and he turned back. “Did you speak to my father?” he said.
Beck nodded.
“What did he say?”
“That it was impossible.”
Neil went hastily toward the room where his father had been carried, and found his sister listening by the door.
“You here, Isabel?” he said.
“Yes, dear,” she whispered in broken tones. “Let me go in and see poor papa now.”
“No, my child, not yet.”
“But, Neil, I am not a child now. You have let Aunt Anne be with him.”
“Well, she is older, and experienced, dear. Pray be patient. You will be helping me then.”
“Yes, Neil,” she said with a sigh, and she reached up and kissed him.
“That is my darling sister,” he said tenderly. “But, Neil, dear, one word – pray tell me the truth. Will papa get better?”
“Heaven only knows, dear,” he said solemnly. “He is very badly hurt.”
He passed through the door, and closed it after him almost without a sound, and then stopped to gaze on the scene before him, feeling a glow of warmth in his breast toward his Aunt, who, in their freedom from anxiety, had always seemed to him a weak, self-indulgent woman. But self was evidently forgotten now as she knelt beside her brother’s couch, holding one of his hands against her breast, and watching the pale, slightly drawn face as if her life depended upon her noting the slightest change.
“Has he moved, Aunt?” said Neil softly. She started violently.
“O Neil, dear!” she exclaimed, “I did not hear you. No, no, no,” she cried, with a burst of sobbing, “he’s dying! My poor brother! What shall I do?”
“Be patient and helpful, Aunt, dear. We must not think of our now sufferings now.”
“Yes, my dear, and I will, indeed I will. But, Neil, my love,” she whispered, as she caught his hand and held it in both hers; “don’t think me unkind. I know what a good, clever boy you are, but don’t you think you ought to send for a real doctor?”
Neil smiled sadly as he bent down and kissed the agitated woman, and thought of his diplomas, and the trust and faith of the eminent surgeon who had chosen him for assistant in the ward of the great London hospital.
“Yes, Aunt, dear,” he said quietly. “You are quite right. I have sent for Sir Denton.”
“Oh, that’s very good of you, my dear. You are so young; and I was afraid, dear, that you would be too proud to accept any help, and – ”
“Hist!” said Neil quickly; and he stepped to his father’s side, for he had seen a quick, trembling motion about the eyes, and the injured man began to mutter.
“Quite out of the question, my lad – I have made other arrangements for my child.”
He uttered a heavy sigh.
“Ride any horse – jumps well – you did not – ”
His eyes open and staring now, and fixed on his son.
“Neil!” he said aloud, “what’s the matter? Here, give me your hand.”
He tried to rise, and a spasm contracted his face as Neil watched him anxiously and saw a confirmation of his fears.
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t try to move, father. You are a little hurt,” said Neil gravely. “Are you in much pain?”
“Pain? No,” said his father irritably. “Why don’t you both speak? What does it all mean?”
“Your horse fell, sir,” said Neil gently. “Lie quite still.”
“My horse fell? What horse fell? How long have I been here?”
“My dear father, you must try and be calm, please.”
“But I don’t understand,” he cried angrily. “You said my horse fell. I can’t remember.”
“But you will soon. Try and go to sleep.”
“Don’t be absurd, boy. Here, help me to get – ”
He did not finish his sentence but tried to raise himself and then lay perfectly still, with his jaw dropped, and a look of horror in his eyes.
“Neil – my boy,” he said piteously, “I can’t move. This sudden weakness – I – yes – I remember now. The Don fell with me. Quick – tell me – am I much hurt?”
“I hope not, sir. It was a bad fall, but there are no bones broken.”
“But – ”
He stopped, and looked wildly at his son.
“Father, you must try and be calm,” said Neil firmly.
“Ralph, dearest – pray – pray – be calm,” said Aunt Anne.
“Silence, woman!” he cried harshly; and the great drops of perspiration began to gather on his brow. “Yes,” he continued hoarsely, “I begin to remember clearly now. The brute fell and rolled over me. Here, Neil, you are a surgeon – tell me – not seriously hurt?”
“You are hurt, father, and it is absolutely necessary that you should be quite calm.”
“Calm, sir! How can I be calm? Do you take me for a child? Send for a proper doctor at once – a man who can understand, and who will tell me the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth, father. I repeat – it is absolutely necessary that you should lie still and try to be calm.”
“But – ”
He uttered that word angrily, and clutched at the side of the couch to try again and raise himself, but his arm fell nervelessly by his side, and he gave his son a piteous look.
“My back,” he groaned. “No feeling; Neil, my boy, you know and you will not speak. Don’t, don’t, tell me I am to be a cripple.”
“My dear father,” cried Neil huskily, as he grasped his hand, “I dare not tell you that, for I am not sure. I have sent up for Sir Denton, and he will, I know, come by the earliest possible train. I hope that my fears are wrong.”
“Then they are right,” said the sufferer with a groan. “I know now. Great Heavens!”
He closed his eyes, and lay perfectly still, but the dew upon his contracted face told plainly enough of the mental agony he suffered.
Aunt Anne drew back, and signed to Neil to come to her side.
“Speak to him,” she whispered. “Try and say something to comfort him, dear.”
“It would be folly,” replied Neil sadly, “and only increase his irritation.”
“Oh, but, my dear!” she whispered.
“Aunt, it was what I feared, and he has grasped the truth.”
“Neil!”
“Wait till Sir Denton comes, and let him decide.”
He went back to the side of the couch, and sat down to watch and wait, ready to try and alleviate pain, and wipe the drops of agony from the sufferer’s brow from time to time.
And