She knelt down again now; and Evelyn, flinging both arms round her neck, broke into a pa.s.sion of weeping.

"I think I was half mad," she moaned through her tears, clinging to Honor as a drowning woman clings to a spar. "And I am dreadfully frightened still. But I will do whatever you tell me. I will try to be a loyal wife, even if----"

"We won't think of that at all," Honor interposed hastily. "It cannot--it shall not happen!"

But Evelyn's tears flowed on unchecked. The fire of Honor's just anger had melted the morsel of ice in her heart; and in a very short time she had cried herself to sleep.

Then Honor gently unlocked the clinging fingers, and went straight to Frank Olliver's room.

CHAPTER XXIV.

I WANT LADYBIRD.

"So free we seem; so fettered fast we are."

--BROWNING.

A low sun was gilding the hill-tops when two doolies, borne by st.u.r.dy _kahars_ and escorted by Wyndham and Mackay, pa.s.sed between the gate-posts of Desmond's bungalow. Honor stood with Evelyn at the head of the verandah steps; but as the _kahars_ halted, and the officers prepared to dismount, she moved back a s.p.a.ce, leaving her to welcome her husband alone.

The blood ebbed from Evelyn's face as she watched Theo mount the steps, slowly, uncertainly, supported on either side by Wyndham and the doctor--he who, in normal circ.u.mstances, would have cleared them at a bound and taken her in his arms. His appearance alone struck terror into her heart. Was this the splendid-looking husband who had ridden away full of life and energy,--this strange seeming man, whose face was disfigured and more than half-hidden by an unsightly bandage and a broad green shade; whose empty coat-sleeve, slashed and blood-stained, suggested too vividly the condition of the arm strapped into place beneath?

It was all she could do not to shrink back instinctively when the men moved aside, as Honor had done, to afford husband and wife some small measure of privacy, and Theo held out his hand.

"They've sent me back rather the worse for wear, Ladybird," he said, with a smile; "but Mackay will put the pieces together in good time."

"Oh, Theo--I hope so!--It's dreadful to see you--like that."

The hand she surrendered to him was cold as ice; and the attempt at welcome in her voice was checked by a paralysing fear and constraint.

Thirty-six hours of severe pain in body and mind had failed to break his spirit; but the thing was achieved by a dozen words from his wife.

He knew now what to expect from her; and for the moment he was stricken speechless.

"I am so--sorry," she murmured, "about----"

"Yes--yes, I know," he took her up quickly; and there was an awkward silence.

"Who--what--is in that other doolie?" she asked, in a hurried whisper.

"The Boy."

"But, Theo--you're not going to----"

"For G.o.d's sake shut up!"

He swayed a little in speaking, and promptly Paul was at his side. No one had heard what pa.s.sed; and when Mackay, returning to his post by the wounded arm, gently urged Desmond forward, Paul signalled to Evelyn to take his place, while he went back to the doolie.

"Just a minute, Mrs Desmond," he said in a low tone.

Evelyn, startled by the request, stood irresolute; and since there was no time for hesitancy, Honor came forward and put her hand under Theo's elbow. She felt a jar go all through him at her touch, and knew that he had heard Wyndham's request.

"Ah, Honor," he said, by way of greeting, "I'm afraid I've come back a mere log on your hands."

An undernote of bitterness in his tone gave her courage to speak the thought in her mind. "We are only too thankful to have got you back safe--in any condition," she murmured.

He did not answer at once; and she moved away to make place for Paul, whose face was set in very rigid lines.

"Take me to the _duftur_," Desmond commanded curtly. "I'll not be put to bed."

"No, no, man; we'll settle you up in your long chair," Mackay answered soothingly. He perceived that by some means Mrs Desmond had jarred his patient, and was in high ill-humour with her accordingly.

At the study door, Amar Singh almost laid his head at Desmond's feet.

Within the room they found Frank Olliver arranging pillows and a rug on the deck-chair, and on a table beside it a light meal awaited him.

The meal ended, they all left him with one accord, instinctively making way for his wife--who was crying her heart out in the next room.

Paul was the last to leave. He remained standing by Desmond, resting a hand on his sound shoulder. But there are silences more illuminating than speech; and Theo Desmond knew all that was in his friend's heart at that moment--all that could never be spoken between them, because they were Englishmen, born into a heritage of incurable reserve.

"You're going to pull through this," Paul said quietly.

"Am I? Ask Mackay."

"No need for that--I'm sure of it; and--in the mean while----" A tightening of his grasp supplied the rest.

"Thanks, old man. I know what you mean."

Then Paul went reluctantly out, and on into the drawing-room, where he found Mackay and Honor Meredith in close conference. The little doctor was laying down the law in respect of his patient with characteristic bluntness.

"Now, Miss Meredith," he had said, as he met her in the hall, and drew her aside into the empty room, "I'm a plain man, and you must put up with plain speaking for the next few minutes. It's no light matter to be responsible for a chap like Desmond. Not a morsel of use talking to his wife! She seems to have upset him already. The Lord alone knows how women do these things. Fools men are to care! But Desmond is what you call finely organised; and you can't handle a violin as you would a big drum. Frankly, now, his eyesight's in danger; and that wound in his cheek is an ugly one in any case. He wants careful nursing, and I refuse to put him into Mrs Desmond's hands. I'd deserve hanging for murder if I did! Remains Mrs Olliver, or yourself. 'Twould be awkward for Mrs Olliver to take his wife's place when there is a capable woman on the spot. So now, will you take charge of Desmond for me, and put yourself under my orders?--that's the real _mutlub_[28] of the whole matter. You're welcome to say I don't think Mrs Desmond strong enough, if you feel bound to tell a polite lie on the subject."

[28] Gist.

Honor had listened to the doctor's brusquely-delivered speech with a growing sense of helplessness, as of a mouse caught in a trap. His statement of the case was uncomfortably plain. He left her no loophole of escape; and by the time he fired his final question at her, she had decided on present capitulation.

"Yes, I will take charge of him," she said. "Only Mrs Desmond must have some share in the nursing--for his sake and her own."

"Oh, well--well, I suppose she must. The less the better for his sake; and you've got to consider Desmond before every one else at present. I insist on that."

Honor smiled faintly at the superfluous injunction; and it was at this point that Paul entered the room.

Mackay turned on him a face of open jubilation.

"Congratulate me, Wyndham! I've secured Miss Meredith's services for Desmond."

"Thank G.o.d," Paul answered fervently; and he thanked Honor also with his eyes.

"I shall move into the bungalow myself after the funeral, and give you what help I can. He will need a good deal of companionship to keep him from chafing at his helplessness. He wished the Boy to be brought here and buried from his house. I am making all arrangements; and we shall be round quite early in the morning. Can I see Desmond again to-night?"