I was recalled from my reverie, which was fast becoming a dream oflove, in a startling manner. A voice came from the bed; a deep,strong, masterful voice. The first note of it called up like a clarionmy eyes and my ears. The sick man was awake and speaking!
"Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Whatever ideas any of us had ever formed of his waking, I am quite surethat none of us expected to see him start up all awake and full masterof himself. I was so surprised that I answered almost mechanically:
"Ross is my name. I have been watching by you!" He looked surprisedfor an instant, and then I could see that his habit of judging forhimself came into play.
"Watching by me! How do you mean? Why watching by me?" His eye hadnow lit on his heavily bandaged wrist. He went on in a different tone;less aggressive, more genial, as of one accepting facts:
"Are you a doctor?" I felt myself almost smiling as I answered; therelief from the long pressure of anxiety regarding his life wasbeginning to tell:
"No, sir!"
"Then why are you here? If you are not a doctor, what are you?" Histone was again more dictatorial. Thought is quick; the whole train ofreasoning on which my answer must be based flooded through my brainbefore the words could leave my lips. Margaret! I must think ofMargaret! This was her father, who as yet knew nothing of me; even ofmy very existence. He would be naturally curious, if not anxious, toknow why I amongst men had been chosen as his daughter's friend on theoccasion of his illness. Fathers are naturally a little jealous insuch matters as a daughter's choice, and in the undeclared state of mylove for Margaret I must do nothing which could ultimately embarrassher.
"I am a Barrister. It is not, however, in that capacity I am here; butsimply as a friend of your daughter. It was probably her knowledge ofmy being a lawyer which first determined her to ask me to come when shethought you had been murdered. Afterwards she was good enough toconsider me to be a friend, and to allow me to remain in accordancewith your expressed wish that someone should remain to watch."
Mr. Trelawny was manifestly a man of quick thought, and of few words.He gazed at me keenly as I spoke, and his piercing eyes seemed to readmy thought. To my relief he said no more on the subject just then,seeming to accept my words in simple faith. There was evidently in hisown mind some cause for the acceptance deeper than my own knowledge.His eyes flashed, and there was an unconscious movement of themouth--it could hardly be called a twitch--which betokenedsatisfaction. He was following out some train of reasoning in his ownmind. Suddenly he said:
"She thought I had been murdered! Was that last night?"
"No! four days ago." He seemed surprised. Whilst he had been speakingthe first time he had sat up in bed; now he made a movement as thoughhe would jump out. With an effort, however, he restrained himself;leaning back on his pillows he said quietly:
"Tell me all about it! All you know! Every detail! Omit nothing!But stay; first lock the door! I want to know, before I see anyone,exactly how things stand."
Somehow his last words made my heart leap. "Anyone!" He evidentlyaccepted me, then, as an exception. In my present state of feeling forhis daughter, this was a comforting thought. I felt exultant as I wentover to the door and softly turned the key. When I came back I foundhim sitting up again. He said:
"Go on!"
Accordingly, I told him every detail, even of the slightest which Icould remember, of what had happened from the moment of my arrival atthe house. Of course I said nothing of my feeling towards Margaret,and spoke only concerning those things already within his ownknowledge. With regard to Corbeck, I simply said that he had broughtback some lamps of which he had been in quest. Then I proceeded totell him fully of their loss, and of their re-discovery in the house.
He listened with a self-control which, under the circumstances, was tome little less than marvellous. It was impassiveness, for at times hiseyes would flash or blaze, and the strong fingers of his uninjured handwould grip the sheet, pulling it into far-extending wrinkles. This wasmost noticeable when I told him of the return of Corbeck, and thefinding of the lamps in the boudoir. At times he spoke, but only a fewwords, and as if unconsciously in emotional comment. The mysteriousparts, those which had most puzzled us, seemed to have no specialinterest for him; he seemed to know them already. The utmost concernhe showed was when I told him of Daw's shooting. His muttered comment:"stupid ass!" together with a quick glance across the room at theinjured cabinet, marked the measure of his disgust. As I told him ofhis daughter's harrowing anxiety for him, of her unending care anddevotion, of the tender love which she had shown, he seemed much moved.There was a sort of veiled surprise in his unconscious whisper:
"Margaret! Margaret!"
When I had finished my narration, bringing matters up to the momentwhen Miss Trelawny had gone out for her walk--I thought of her as "MissTrelawny', not as 'Margaret' now, in the presence of her father--heremained silent for quite a long time. It was probably two or threeminutes; but it seemed interminable. All at once he turned and said tome briskly:
"Now tell me all about yourself!" This was something of a floorer; Ifelt myself grow red-hot. Mr. Trelawny's eyes were upon me; they werenow calm and inquiring, but never ceasing in their soul-searchingscrutiny. There was just a suspicion of a smile on the mouth which,though it added to my embarrassment, gave me a certain measure ofrelief. I was, however, face to face with difficulty; and the habit ofmy life stood me in good stead. I looked him straight in the eyes as Ispoke:
"My name, as I told you, is Ross, Malcolm Ross. I am by profession aBarrister. I was made a Q. C. in the last year of the Queen's reign.I have been fairly successful in my work." To my relief he said:
"Yes, I know. I have always heard wel
l of you! Where and when did youmeet Margaret?"
"First at the Hay's in Belgrave Square, ten days ago. Then at a picnicup the river with Lady Strathconnell. We went from Windsor to Cookham.Mar--Miss Trelawny was in my boat. I scull a little, and I had my ownboat at Windsor. We had a good deal of conversation--naturally."
"Naturally!" there was just a suspicion of something sardonic in thetone of acquiescence; but there was no other intimation of his feeling.I began to think that as I was in the presence of a strong man, Ishould show something of my own strength. My friends, and sometimes myopponents, say that I am a strong man. In my present circumstances,not to be absolutely truthful would be to be weak. So I stood up tothe difficulty before me; always bearing in mind, however, that mywords might affect Margaret's happiness through her love for herfather. I went on:
"In conversation at a place and time and amid surroundings so pleasing,and in a solitude inviting to confidence, I got a glimpse of her innerlife. Such a glimpse as a man of my years and experience may get froma young girl!" The father's face grew graver as I went on; but he saidnothing. I was committed now to a definite line of speech, and went onwith such mastery of my mind as I could exercise. The occasion mightbe fraught with serious consequences to me too.
"I could not but see that there was over her spirit a sense ofloneliness which was habitual to her. I thought I understood it; I ammyself an only child. I ventured to encourage her to speak to mefreely; and was happy enough to succeed. A sort of confidence becameestablished between us." There was something in the father's facewhich made me add hurriedly:
"Nothing was said by her, sir, as you can well imagine, which was notright and proper. She only told me in the impulsive way of one longingto give voice to thoughts long carefully concealed, of her yearning tobe closer to the father whom she loved; more en rapport with him; morein his confidence; closer within the circle of his sympathies. Oh,believe me, sir, that it was all good! All that a father's heart couldhope or wish for! It was all loyal! That she spoke it to me wasperhaps because I was almost a stranger with whom there was no previousbarrier to confidence."
Here I paused. It was hard to go on; and I feared lest I might, in myzeal, do Margaret a disservice. The relief of the strain came from herfather.
"And you?"