Rosa Mundi, Ethel May Dell [epub e reader TXT] 📗

grim, his hands gripping the reins with a strength that evidently impressed upon the runaway the futility of opposition. In his eyes was a look that made her tremble.


VIII
AFTER THE ACCIDENT

"You had better go home in the car," Wingarde said. "It is waiting for me in Fenwick Street. Mr. Neville, perhaps you will be good enough to accompany my wife. Your animal is tame enough now. Your man will have no difficulty with it, if he is to be found."
"Ah! Exactly!" Archie said.
He looked round vaguely. Nina was leaning on his arm. His man was nowhere to be seen, having some minutes since abandoned a situation which he had discovered to be beyond his powers to deal with.
A crowd surrounded them, and a man at his elbow informed him that his driver had thrown down the reins and jumped off before they were clear of the railway bridge. Archie swallowed the comment upon this discreet behaviour, that rose to his lips.
A moment later Wingarde, who had seemed on the point of departure, pushed his way hastily-back to him.
"Never mind the hansom!" he said. "I believe your man has been hurt. I will see to it. Just take my wife out of this, will you? I want to see if that boy is alive or dead."
He had turned again with the words, forcing his way through the crowd. Nina pressed after him. She was as white as the dress she wore. There was no holding her back. Archie could only accompany her.
It was difficult to get through the gathering throng. When finally they succeeded in doing so, they found Wingarde stooping over the unconscious victim of the accident. He had satisfied himself that the boy lived, and was feeling rapidly for broken bones.
Becoming aware of Nina's presence, he looked up with a frown. Then, seeing her piteous face, he refrained from uttering the curt rebuke that had risen to his lips.
"I want you to go home," he said. "I will do all that is necessary here. Neville, take my wife home! The car is close at hand in Fenwick Street."
"He isn't dead?" faltered Nina shakily.
"No--certainly not." Wingarde's voice was confident.
He turned from her to speak to a policeman; and Nina yielded to Archie's hand on her arm. She was more upset than she had realized.
Neither of them spoke during the drive westwards. Archie scowled a good deal, but he gave no vent to his feelings.
Arrived in Crofton Square, he would have taken his leave of her. But Nina would not hear of this.
"Please stay till Hereford comes!" she entreated. "You will want to know what he has done. Besides, I want you."
Archie yielded to pressure. No word was spoken by either in praise or admiration of the man who had risked his life to save theirs. Somehow it was a difficult subject between them.
Nearly two hours later Wingarde arrived on foot. He reported Archie's man only slightly the worse for his adventure.
"It ought to have killed him," he said briefly. "But men of that sort never are killed. I told him to drive back to stables. The horse was as quiet as a lamb."
"And the boy?" Nina asked eagerly.
"Oh, the boy!" Wingarde said. "His case is more serious. He was taken to the Wade Home. I went with him. I happen to know Wade."
"That's the West End physician," said Archie. "He calls himself Wade, I know, when he wants to be _incog_."
"That's the man," said Wingarde. "But I am not acquainted with him as the West End physician. He is purely a City acquaintance. Oh, are you going, Neville? We shall see you again, I suppose?"
It was not cordially spoken. Archie coloured and glanced at Nina.
"You are coming to dinner, aren't you?" she said at once. "Please do! We shall be alone. And you promised, didn't you?"
Archie hesitated for a moment. Wingarde was looking at him piercingly.
"I hope you won't allow my presence to interfere with any plans you may have made for to-night's amusement," he remarked. "I shall be obliged to go out myself after dinner."
Archie drew himself up. Wingarde's tone stung.
"You are very good," he said stiffly. "What do you say, Nina? Do you feel up to the theatre?"
Nina's colour also was very high. But her eyes looked softer than usual. She turned to her husband.
"Couldn't you come, too, for once, Hereford?" she asked. "We were thinking of the theatre. It--it would be nice if you came too."
The falter in the last sentence betrayed the fact that she was nervous.
Wingarde smiled faintly, contemptuously, as he made reply.
"Really, that's very kind of you," he said. "But I am compelled to plead a prior engagement. You will be home by midnight, I suppose?"
Archie made an abrupt movement. For a second he hovered on the verge of an indignant outburst. The man's manner, rather than his words, was insufferable. But in that second he met Wingarde's eyes, and something he saw there checked him. He pulled himself together and somewhat awkwardly took his leave.
Wingarde saw him off, with the scoffing smile upon his lips. When he returned to the drawing-room Nina was on her feet, waiting for him. She was still unusually pale, and her eyes were very bright. She wore a restless, startled look, as though her nerves were on the stretch.
Wingarde glanced at her.
"You had better go and lie down till dinner," he said.
Nina looked back at him. Her lips quivered a little, but when she spoke her voice was absolutely steady. She held her head resolutely high.
"I think Archie must have forgotten to thank you," she said, "for what you did. But I have not. Will you accept my gratitude?"
There was proud humility in her voice. But Wingarde only shrugged his shoulders with a sneer.
"Your gratitude would have been more genuine if you had been saved a widow instead of a wife," he said brutally.
She recoiled from him. Her eyes flashed furious indignation. She felt as if he had struck her in the face. She spoke instantly and vehemently. Her voice shook.
"That is a poison of your own mixing," she said. "You know it!"
"What! It isn't true?" he asked.
He drew suddenly close to her. His eyes gleamed also with the gleam of a smouldering fire. She saw that he was moved. She believed him to be angry. Trembling, yet scornful, she held her peace.
He gripped her wrists suddenly, bending his dark face close to hers.
"If it isn't true--" he said, and stopped.
She drew back from him with a startled movement. For an instant her eyes challenged his. Then abruptly their fierce resistance failed. She turned her face aside and burst into tears.
In a moment she was free. Her husband stood regarding her with a very curious look in his eyes. He watched her as she moved slowly away from him, fighting fiercely, desperately, to regain her self-control. He saw her sit down, leaving almost the length of the room between them, and lean her head upon her hand.
Then the man's arrested brutality suddenly reasserted itself, and he strode to the door.
"Pshaw!" he exclaimed as he went. "Don't I know that you pray for a deliverer every night of your life? And what deliverer would you have if not death--the surest of all--in your case positively the only one within the bounds of possibility?"
He was gone with the words, but she would not have attempted to answer them had he stayed. Her head was bowed almost to her knees, and she sat quite motionless, as if he had stabbed her to the heart.
Later she dined alone with Archie in her husband's unexplained absence, and later still, at the theatre, her face was as gay, her laugh as frequent, as any there.


IX
THE END OF A MYSTERY

On the following afternoon Nina went to the Wade Home to see the victim of the accident. She was received by the matron, a middle-aged, kindly woman, who was openly pleased with the concern her visitor exhibited.
"Oh, he's better," she said, "much better. But I'm afraid I can't let you see him now, as he is asleep. Dr. Wade examined him himself yesterday. And he was here again this morning. His opinion is that the spine has been only bruised. While unconsciousness lasted, it was, of course, difficult to tell. But the patient became conscious this morning, and Dr. Wade said he was very well pleased with him on the whole. He thinks we shall not have him very long. He's a bright little chap and thoroughly likes his quarters. His father is a dock labourer. Everyone knows the Wade Home, and all the patients consider themselves very lucky to be here. You see, the doctor is such a favourite wherever he goes."
"I have never met Dr. Wade," Nina said. "I suppose he is a great man?"
The matron's jolly face glowed with enthusiasm.
"He is indeed," she said--"a splendid man. You probably know him by another name. They say he is a leading physician in the West End. But we City people know him and love him by his assumed name only. Why, only lately he cut short his holiday on purpose to be near one of his patients who was dying. If you could manage to come to-morrow afternoon after four o'clock, no doubt you would see him. It is visiting-day, and he is always here on Sunday afternoons between three and six in case the visitors like to see him. I should be delighted to give you some tea. And you could then see the little boy."
"Thank you," Nina said. "I will."
That evening she chanced to meet Archie Neville at a friend's dinner-table and imparted to him her purpose.
"Jove!" he said. "Good idea! I'll come with you, shall I?"
"Please not in the hansom!" she said.
"Not a bit of it," returned Archie. "But you needn't be nervous. I've sacked that man. No matter! We'll go in a wheelbarrow if you think that'll be safer."
Nina laughed and agreed to accept his escort. Archie's society was a very welcome distraction just then.
To her husband she made no mention of her intention. She had established the custom of going her own way at all times. It did not even cross her mind to introduce the subject. He was treating her with that sarcastic courtesy of his which was so infinitely hard to bear. It hurt her horribly, and because of the pain she avoided him as much as she dared.
She did not know how he spent his time on Sundays. Except for his presence at luncheon she found she was left as completely to her own devices as on other days.
She had agreed to drive Archie to the Wade Home in her husband's landaulette.
Wingarde left the house before three and she was alone when Archie arrived.
The latter looked at her critically.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," she returned instantly. "Why?"
"You're looking off colour," he said.
Nina turned from him impatiently.
"There is nothing the matter with me," she said. "Shall we start?"
Archie said no more. But he glanced at her curiously from time to time. He wondered privately if her husband's society were driving her to that extreme which she had told him she might reach eventually.
Visitors were being admitted to the Wade Home when they arrived. They were directed to the ward where lay the boy in whom they were interested. Nina presented him with flowers and a book, and sat for some time talking with him. The little fellow was hugely flattered by her attentions, though too embarrassed to express his pleasure in