The Obstacle Race by Ethel May Dell (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📖

as one without hope.
After a brief interval the door opened to admit a silent footed butler bearing a tray. Saltash turned upon him swiftly.
"Brandy, Billings? That's right. And look here! Find Mrs. Parsons! Tell her a lady has been taken ill in the library! She had better get a bed ready, and have some boiling water handy. Anything else?" He looked at Juliet.
She shook her head. "No, nothing till the doctor comes. I hope he won't be long."
Saltash poured out some brandy. Fielding came to a standstill behind Juliet, and stood looking on.
"We won't lift her again," whispered Juliet. "Try a spoon!"
He gave it to her, and she slipped it between the white lips. But there was no sign of life, no attempt to swallow.
"She is dead!" said Fielding heavily.
Saltash glanced at him. "I think not," he said gently. "I'm nearly certain I felt her pulse move just now."
The door opened again, and Dick entered. He went straight to the squire, and put his arm round his bent shoulders. "There'll be a doctor here in ten minutes," he said.
Fielding seemed barely to hear the words. "Do you think she'll ever speak again, Dick?" he said.
"Please God she will, sir," said Dick very steadily.
He kept his arm round Fielding, and in a few moments succeeded in drawing him aside. He put him into a chair by the table, poured out some brandy and water, and made him drink it. Looking up a moment later, he found Saltash's odd eyes curiously upon him. He returned the look with a conscious sense of antagonism, but Saltash almost immediately turned away.
There followed what seemed an interminable space of waiting, during which no change of any sort was apparent in the silent figure on the settee. The blatant bray of the band still sounded in the distance with a flaunting gaiety almost intolerable to those who waited. Saltash frowned as he heard it, but he did not stir from Juliet's side.
Then, after an eternity of suspense, the sombre-faced butler opened the door again and ushered in the doctor. Saltash went to meet him and brought him to the settee. Fielding got up and came forward.
Dick stood for a moment, then turned and went back to the conservatory, where a few seconds later Saltash joined him.
"I should like to burn that damn band alive!" he remarked as he did so.
Dick shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.
Again Saltash's eyes dwelt upon him with curiosity. "I want to know you," he said suddenly. "I hope you don't object?"
"I am vastly honoured by your notice," said Dick.
Saltash nodded. "Well, don't be an ass about it! I am a most inoffensive person, I assure you. And it isn't my fault that I was on friendly terms with _Mademoiselle Juliette_ before she forsook the world, etc., etc., and turned to you to fill the void. Do you flatter yourself you are going to marry her by any chance?"
A swift gleam shot up in Dick's eyes. He stiffened involuntarily. "That is a subject I cannot discuss--even with you," he said.
Saltash smiled good-humouredly. "Well, I expected that. But your courtship on the lake this afternoon was so delightfully ingenuous that I couldn't help wondering what your intentions were."
Dick's mouth became a simple hard line. He looked the other man up and down with lightning rapidity ere he replied with significance. "My intentions, my lord, are--honourable."
Saltash bowed with his hand on his heart and open mockery in his eyes. "_La pauvre Juliette_! And have you told her yet? No, look here! Don't knock me down! There's no sense in taking offence at a joke you can't understand. And it would be bad manners to have a row, with that poor soul in there at death's door. Moreover, if you really want to marry the princess _Juliette_, it'll pay you to be friends with me."
"I doubt if anything would induce me to be that," said Dick curtly.
"Oh, really? What have I done? No, don't tell me! It would take too long. I am aware I'm a by-word for wickedness in these parts, heaven alone knows why. But at least I've never injured you." Saltash's smile was suddenly disarming again.
"Never had much opportunity, have you?" said Dick.
"No, but I've got one now--quite a good one. I could put an end to this little idyll of yours for instance without the smallest difficulty--if I felt that way."
"I don't believe you!" flashed Dick.
"No? Well, wait till I do it then!" There was amused tolerance in Saltash's rejoinder. "You'll pipe another tune then, I fancy."
"Shall I?" Dick said. He paused a moment, his eyes, extremely bright, fixed unwaveringly upon the swarthy face in front of him. "If I do--you'll dance to it!" he said with grim assurance.
Saltash smothered a laugh. "Well done, I say! You've scored a point at last! I was waiting for that. You'll like me better now, most worthy cavalier. I daren't suggest a drink under the circumstances, but I'll owe you one." He extended his hand with a royal air. "Will you shake?"
Dick held back. "Will you play the game?" he said.
Saltash grinned. "My own game? Certainly! I always do."
Dick's hand came out to him. Somehow he was hard to refuse. "A straight game?" he said.
Saltash's brows expressed amused surprise. "I always play straight--till I begin to lose,--chevalier," he said.
"And then--you cheat?" questioned Dick.
"Like the devil," laughed Saltash. "We all do that. Don't you?"
"No," Dick said briefly.
"You don't? You always put all your cards on the table? Come now! Do you?"
Dick hesitated, and Saltash's grin became more pronounced. "All right! You needn't answer," he said lightly. "Do you know I thought you weren't quite as simple as you appeared at first sight. Just as well perhaps. _Juliette's_ cavalier mustn't be too rustic." He stopped to look at Dick appraisingly. "Yes, I'm glad on the whole that your intentions are honourable," he ended with a smile. "I rather doubt if you pull 'em off. But you may--you may."
He turned sharply with the words as if a hand had touched him and faced round upon Juliet as she came out on to the step.
Her face had an exhausted look, but she smiled faintly at the two men as she joined them.
"She is still living," she said. "The doctor gives just a shade of hope. But--" She looked at Saltash--"he absolutely forbids her being moved--at all. I hope it won't be a terrible inconvenience to you."
"It will be a privilege to serve you--or your friends--in any way," said Saltash.
"Thank you," she said. "I am sure Mr. Fielding will be very grateful to you. The doctor is going to send in a nurse. Of course I shall not leave her. She has come to depend upon me a good deal. And we thought of telephoning to her maid to bring everything necessary from Shale Court."
"Of course!" said Saltash kindly. "Look here, my dear! Don't for heaven's sake feel you've got to ask my permission for everything you do! Treat the place and everyone in it as your own!"
"Thank you," she said again. "Then, Charles, if you're sure you don't mind, I'll send for my dog as well."
"What! Christopher Columbus? You've got him with you, have you?" Saltash's smile lighted his dark face. "Lucky animal! Have him over by all means! I shall be delighted to see him."
"You are very kind," she said, and turned with a hint of embarrassment to Dick. "Mr. Fielding says that you will want to be getting back and there is no need to wait. Will you take the little car back to the Court?"
"Certainly," Dick said. "Would you care to give me a list of the things you want the maid to bring?"
"How kind of you!" she said, and hesitated a moment, looking at him. "But I think I needn't trouble you. Cox is very sensible. I can make her understand on the telephone."
He looked back at her, standing very straight. "In that case--I will go," he said. "Good-bye!"
She held out her hand to him. "I--shall see you again," she said, and there was almost a touch of pleading in her voice.
His fingers closed and held. "Yes," he said, and smiled into her eyes with the words--a smile in which determination and tenderness strangely mingled. "You will certainly see me again."
And with that he was gone, striding between the massed flowers without looking back.
"Exit Romeo!" murmured Saltash. "Enter--Kismet!"
But Juliet had already turned away.


CHAPTER V
THE DRIVING FORCE

That Saturday night concert at High Shale entailed a greater effort on Dick's part than any that had preceded it. He forced himself to make it a success, but when it was over he was conscious of an overwhelming weariness that weighed him down like a physical burden.
He said good-night to the men, and prepared to depart with a feeling that he was nearing the end of his endurance. It was not soothing to nerves already on edge to be waylaid by Ashcott and made the unwilling recipient of gloomy forebodings.
"We shan't hold 'em much longer," the manager said. "They're getting badly out of hand. There's talk of sending a deputation to Lord Wilchester or--failing him--Ivor Yardley, the K.C. chap who is in with him in this show."
"Yardley!" Dick uttered the name sharply.
"Yes, ever met him? He took over a directorship when he got engaged to Lord Wilchester's sister--Lady Joanna Farringmore. They're rather pinning their hopes on him, it seems. Do you know him at all?"
"I've met him--once," Dick said. "Went to him for advice--on a matter of business."
"Any good?" asked Ashcott.
"Oh yes, shrewd enough. Hardest-headed man at the Bar, I believe. I didn't know he was a director of this show. They won't get much out of him."
"I fancy they're going to ask you to draw up a petition," said Ashcott.
"Me!" Dick turned on him in a sudden blaze of anger. "I'll see 'em damned first!" he said.
Ashcott shrugged his shoulders. "It's your affair. You're the only man who has any influence with 'em. I'm sick of trying to keep the peace."
Dick checked his indignation. "Poor devils! They certainly have some cause for grievance, but I'm not going to draw up their ultimatum for them. I've no objection to speaking to Yardley or any other man on their behalf, but I'm hanged if I'll be regarded as their representative. They'll make a strike-leader of me next."
"Well, they're simmering," Ashcott said, as he prepared to depart. "They'll boil over before long. If they don't find a responsible representative they'll probably run amuck and get up to mischief."
"Oh, man, stop croaking!" Dick said with weary irritation and went away down the hill.
He took the cliff-path though the night was dark with storm-clouds. Somehow, instinctively, his feet led him thither. There were no nightingales singing now, and the gorse had long since faded in the fierce heat of summer. The sea lay leaden far below him, barely visible in the dimness. And there was no star in the sky.
Heavily he tramped over the ground where Juliet had lingered on that night of magic in the spring, and as he went, he told himself that he had lost her. Whatever the outcome of to-day's happenings, she would never be the same to him again. She had passed out of his reach. Her own world had claimed her again and there could be no return. He recalled the regret in her eyes at parting. Surely--most surely--she had known that that was the end. For her the midsummer madness was over, burnt away like the glory of the gorse-bushes about him. With a conviction that