The Hundredth Chance
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"Not yet," said Capper. He laid a very steady hand upon her shoulder. "Leave him alone for a little! He'll pull himself together best alone. He's got the spunk all right."
She stood still under his hand, piteously awaiting the information for which she could not bring herself to ask. He was looking at her keenly, she knew; but she could not face his look. She could have been strong had strength been essential, but the need for it seemed to have gone.
Bunny no longer leaned upon her sustaining love.
"Come, now, I want a straight talk with you," the great doctor said. "I want to understand your point of view if you will be gracious enough to expound it to me."
She made a pathetic attempt to laugh. "Do you think you can cure him, Doctor?" she said.
Capper laughed too with a species of grim exultation. "Is that what troubles you? If that's all, I guess I can soon set your mind at rest. I can cure him absolutely-within three months. But I shall want your co-operation. Can I count on that?"
His hand pressed upon her with something of insistence. His yellow face looked searchingly, with an odd elation into hers. She met his look reluctantly, and became dominated by it.
"Of course you can count upon it," she said.
He nodded, pulling restlessly at his beard with his free hand. "To what extent, I wonder? Are you keen?"
"Of course I am keen," she said, almost with indignation. He stood silent a moment, his hand still upon her shoulder. Then, "Mrs. Bolton," he said, "do you know your young brother has got a curious notion into his head that you don't want him to be made sound?"
"Ah, but that is a mistake!" she said quickly.
"Is it a mistake?" said Capper. "No, don't answer! Why should you? But it's curious that I should have sensed the same myself the moment I saw you. However, if you tell me it is not so, I shall take your word for it. But at the same time I think I begin to see your point of view. Without the care of him you would feel lost for a bit. Life might be rather difficult. Isn't that so?"
She laughed somewhat tremulously. "I think I have always found life difficult. But lately-just lately-" She paused in uncertainty.
"Ah!" said Capper. "Maybe you're up against it. But you've got solid ground to stand on. You may take my word for that, because I happen to know."
He spoke with a kindness that went straight to her heart. Almost involuntarily she put her hand into his, feeling the long, active fingers close upon it with a sense of security that was infinitely comforting.
"Did Jake ever tell you the foundation of our friendship?" he asked her suddenly.
She shook her head.
"It's an interesting story," Capper said. "P'raps you'd like to hear it."
Maud was silent.
He proceeded as if she had answered in the affirmative. "It was on a dark night in the Atlantic ten years ago. Do you remember the wreck of the Hyperion? No, maybe you wouldn't. She ran into a submerged iceberg and was nearly torn in two. I was knocked down by the shock and got jammed against a locker in the saloon. It was a case of every man for himself, and I was soon left to my fate. But Jake-he was working his way across as ship's carpenter-came back on his own to see if there were anyone left below, and found me, wedged there in the wreckage. We were settling down fast, the water was over our knees, and I told him to look out for himself; but he wouldn't. I cursed him for a fool, I remember." Capper's yellow face was strangely alight; his fingers gripped hers tensely. "But that didn't make any difference. He had no time to go and get any implements to work with, so he just set to with his hands and ripped and tore at the wood till at last it splintered and he got me free. He worked like a Titan. I've never forgotten. He got me out just in time, Heaven knows how. The water was above his waist before he'd done, and I was on the verge of drowning. But he did it, and more also. He grabbed me up out of that death-trap, as if I had been a priceless possession of his own. He dragged me upon deck and roped me to him because I was too damaged to help myself. And when we went down, as we very soon did, we sank together and we came up together, and he managed at last to get me to a boat. Now you'll never get him to speak of that episode, but it's about the finest piece of work I've ever come across. The man was utterly unknown to me and I to him. Yet he never thought of passing me by, but just kept on till he'd saved my life. Not a thought to his own safety, mark you. He wasn't out for that. And he wasn't out for reward either. When I offered him money later he just laughed in a purring sort of fashion and told me to keep it for some chap who had failed. 'We don't all of us win out on the hundredth chance,' he said. 'Thank the high gods, not me!' I saw he meant it, so of course I let him have his way. But it's been a sort of bond between us ever since-a bond that stretches but never breaks."
He ceased to speak, ceased also to hold her hand. Maud's face was turned towards him, her blue eyes were intently fixed upon his. She said nothing whatever, and there fell a silence that was curiously intimate between them.
Capper broke it at length. "He's been a bit of a rover, but I've never quite lost sight of him since that night. When I make a friend like that, I can't afford to lose him again. But I've never had a chance of doing him a service till now. He's a married man and considerably more civilized than he was in those days. But I have a notion that there's a leaven of the wild ass still in his composition. That's why I'm afraid you may not realize that he's gold all through-all through." He paused a moment, looking at her quizzically; then: "By way of light relief," he said, "I guess you know the fascinating story of the princess and the frog. She had to take the beast as he was, and even give him her pillow o' nights. But only when she struck at last and threw him against the wall did she find out that she'd caught a prince after all. I guess the man who wrote that story was a student of human nature. It's a comic story anyway."
Maud was laughing. Somehow, inexplicably, the man had eased her burden. "I don't think you are presumptuous, Doctor," she said. "I think you are very kind."
"It's mighty fine of you to take that view," said Capper, with a tug at his yellow beard. "I shall do my best to deserve it."
CHAPTER XXXII
THE ONLY SOLUTION
"Oh, Lord Saltash! So you're home at last! What a pity you didn't come back a little sooner!"
"Am I late for anything, Lady Brian?" smiled Lord Saltash, holding her hand in his.
She shook her head at him. "You are hopelessly late. And you mustn't call me that. I have renounced my title."
"Really? How generous of you!" Saltash began to laugh in his easy, mocking way. "Lady Brian has left town for the South Coast, and Mrs. Sheppard is now in residence at Fairharbour. I am sorry that I was not at hand to escort her ladyship; but I am none the less pleased to be received by Mrs. Sheppard. Have I missed anything besides the first-mentioned privilege?"
Mrs. Sheppard threw out her hands with a dainty gesture of despair. "My dear Charlie, you've missed-everything! Have you seen my poor Maud?"
He nodded. "More than once. I make a point of seeing her whenever I feel so disposed. Now that she is in such safe hands, there is no longer any necessity to hold me at arms' length, I assure you we are on the best of terms."
Mrs. Sheppard groaned. "Why, oh, why didn't you come back sooner? It would have altered-everything."
He looked at her, the teasing smile still hovering about his swarthy face. "It would have been too obvious a solution," he said lightly. "Don't you know that the unattainable is always the dearest?"
Mrs. Sheppard clasped her hands with a tragic gesture. "You don't realize-or perhaps you don't care-that she has sold herself to a man for whom she has not the smallest shadow of affection."
"In pursuit of her illustrious mother's example?" suggested Saltash, with careless effrontery. "But why did you allow it? Wasn't it up to you to forbid the banns?"
"I?" Mrs. Sheppard cast up her eyes. "Do you suppose I have ever had any control over her?"
"I presume you had the slapping of her in her babyhood," he observed.
She laughed almost hysterically. "As if I ever did or could! She was always so serious and quiet and determined. No one she didn't love could ever move her an inch. And the dear child never loved me, you know. Somehow we didn't touch. No, I couldn't prevent the marriage. Only one person in the world could have done that. Oh, Charlie, what a pity! What a pity!"
The easy tears had risen to her eyes. She was very appealing in woe.
But Saltash was apparently unmoved. He sat facing her with his odd eyes glancing hither and thither, the brows above them jerking continually. "She certainly married in the deuce of a hurry," he remarked, after a moment. "What made her do it, eh? I presume it was the old man? Did he turn amorous, or what?"
Mrs. Sheppard laughed rather pathetically and dried her eyes. "Oh, dear, no! Giles was rather too severe. He was always willing to be friendly, but Maud's attitude was so hostile that at last-it was hardly to be wondered at-he turned against her. I was very sorry, but, you know, Maud always takes things so seriously, poor child, and she wouldn't hear of making friends when it was over, but must needs go straight away to Jake Bolton and offer to marry him. He was ready to take her at any price of course. So they settled it all between them with never a word to me."
"But you haven't altogether enlightened me even now," said Saltash, recalling her with his semi-ironical courtesy. "What was this dire offence that Maud couldn't bring herself to forgive? I should like to know for my own future guidance."
Mrs. Sheppard's laugh had a deprecating note. "Oh, it was only a little thing, quite a little thing. If she hadn't been really spoilt all her life, I don't think she would have thought so much of it. I blame myself of course. But there, what is the use? Giles is a plain man, and he believes in a little wholesome chastisement now and then. It does a woman good, he says. And I daresay he is not altogether wrong. But in this case-"
"Oh, forgive me for interrupting you!" Rather lazily he cut her short. "That term 'a little wholesome chastisement'-does it mean a beating or what?"
Mrs. Sheppard nodded with some agitation. "Yes, he gave her a whipping one night. It was very unfortunate, but I must say, not wholly undeserved. And I am afraid he had rather a heavy hand. Poor Maud was very much upset."
"Really!" said Saltash.
"Yes. He shouldn't have done it of course, but-"
"He probably was not in a state to know what he was doing," suggested Saltash.
There was a slight frown between his mobile brows, but his voice was suave.
Mrs. Sheppard eyed him wistfully. "Poor Giles!" she murmured.
Saltash uttered a sudden sharp laugh and rose. "Well, I mustn't take up any more of your valuable time. No doubt you are busy. You have heard about Bunny's prospects, I presume?"
"Oh yes, they have told me about Bunny. I am sure I hope it will be a success, but of course I have had no say in the matter," said Mrs. Sheppard plaintively. "I don't so much as know when the operation is to be performed."
"That isn't finally settled," said Saltash. "It's to be according to the American doctor man's convenience. I suggested that they might like to make use of Burchester for the occasion, and Bolton has caught on to the idea. Very sensible of him!" Saltash's mouth twisted into a faint smile. "How do you get on with your son-in-law?" he enquired pleasantly.
Mrs. Sheppard shook her head dubiously. "I never liked him. There is something of the wild about him. Maud doesn't like him either. I am sure of that. They are complete strangers, and always will be. In fact, if it weren't for Bunny-" she lowered her voice-"I believe she would very soon desert him."
"What? Really?" said Saltash, in a peculiar tone.
She met his interrogation with a swift upward glance. "She would never stand life alone with him. It would drive her desperate. I am sure-quite sure-if it comes to that, she will somehow break free."
"Really!" he said again, subtle encouragement in his voice.
Mrs. Sheppard suddenly clasped her hands against her bosom and went close to him. "Oh, Charlie, I do think-sometimes-divorce is the only way. You know she has always loved you. And it isn't your fault you came too late. Charlie, if the chance were to come to you again-the chance to make her your wife-you wouldn't-surely you couldn't-let it slip again?"
"Again!" said Saltash. His lip lifted a little. He was looking at her fixedly.
She made a small nervous gesture of pleading. "You would marry her, Charlie, if you could. She loves you. You would never-never-"
"Let her down?" suggested Saltash.
His expression was utterly cynical, yet something in those queer eyes of his emboldened her. She placed her two hands against his shoulders, and suffered the tears to run down her face.
"Charlie, I am wretched about her-quite wretched. Save her from that rough cow-herd, Charlie! Make her your own-in spite of all!"
She broke down into muffled sobbing, and would have leaned upon him for support had he permitted it. But with gentle decision he eluded her, taking her hands and leading her to a chair.
"Now, Lady Brian, there is no need for this agitation, believe me. For the present there is nothing to be done. Bunny occupies the centre of the stage. He won't, of course, remain there for ever, but he has got to have his turn. Till that is over, we can only possess our souls in patience."
"But afterwards!" wailed Mrs. Sheppard. "It is the afterwards that troubles me."
"Afterwards," he said lightly, "I presume it will be someone else's turn."
"And Maud will be miserable," she protested.
Saltash was silent. Only after a moment he strolled to the window and stood looking at the grey, tumbling waves that dashed against the sea-wall.
Mrs. Sheppard dabbed her eyes and began to recover herself; it was plainly the only course. She remembered regretfully that sympathy had never been dear Charlie's strong point.
When he glanced over his shoulder a few seconds later she mustered a somewhat piteous smile. "Life is very difficult sometimes," she said apologetically.
"Oh, quite damnable," he answered, in his careless, mocking way. "But we've got to get through with it somehow, and with as few tumbles as possible. I really think I must be going now. We shall let you know when anything definite is settled about Bunny. Don't fret, you know! Take it easy!"
He came back to her with the words and took her hand with a certain arrogant kindness characteristic of him.
She looked up at him with quivering lips. "It is so good of you to let them have Burchester," she said.
He made her a brief bow. "I serve my own ends," he said.
Mrs. Sheppard rose. "And I don't know what will happen when Bunny is cured," she said pathetically. "He will have to go to school. And who is going to pay for it, I wonder?"
Saltash shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps he'll train for a jockey. Who knows?"
Mrs. Sheppard sighed. "I can't think how you can treat everything as a joke. I can't myself."
He laughed. "I don't chance to be gifted with a serious mind, you see. Besides, cui bono? Does worrying help?"
"I'm sure it ought to," sighed Mrs. Sheppard.
He laughed again derisively. "Sheer waste of time, believe me. Either fight or submit to the inevitable! Personally, I prefer to fight." He shut his teeth with a sudden click, and for a single instant his face was grim. But the next he was laughing again. "Good-bye, Lady Brian! In the name of beauty, don't fret! It can't be done with impunity, remember!" He pressed her hand and released it. "You've given me quite a lot to think about. It's been an interesting conversation. I have quite enjoyed it. Good-bye!"
He was gone. She heard him departing, light-footed as a happy boy, whistling under his breath an old, old waltz refrain.
Gradually a smile came into her own face as she turned to the glass to repair the ravages of her recent emotion.
"I wonder whether he will do anything," she murmured to her reflection. "He isn't a man to sit still. And really, the circumstances are so exceptional. It is the only solution-literally the only one." She paused a moment, drew out a hairpin, twisted back a curl and very nicely readjusted it. "And when Giles is bankrupt," she added, with a little nod to the thoughtful gaze that met hers, "there will be a home for me to go to." She heaved a pensive sigh. "I am glad he knows everything," she said. "There is nothing like telling the whole truth."
She smiled again with more assurance, and went her way.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE FURNACE
It was on a frosty morning in February that Maud stood in one of the great guest-chambers of Burchester Castle, waiting with Bunny for news of Dr. Capper's coming.
A nurse was busy in the room, and the hour fixed for the operation was drawing near.
Bunny was full of pluck that morning. He had greeted her bravely smiling. Yes, he had slept like a top, thanks to Jake, who had held his hand half the night and scared away the bogies. Jake was a stunner; he was going to pay him back some day. And what a ripping room Charlie had given him! Was it true that there was a music-room close by? That would be ripping too. Maud would be able to play to him all day long while he was getting well. Maud was looking a bit blue this morning; what was the matter?
She had to admit that she had passed a restless night.
"Silly!" said Bunny, and squeezed her hand. "Why didn't you come and sleep in here? Jake could have looked after you too then."
He chattered on incessantly, making her respond, compelling her attention, till news was brought to her of Dr. Capper's arrival, and she went down to receive him.
She found him standing in the great entrance hall with the doctor from Fairharbour. He moved forward to greet her as serenely as if he had come upon pleasure bent.
"Delighted to meet you again, Mrs. Bolton. I am just admiring this fine old English castle. Guess it's the sort of setting that suits you."
He held her hand a moment and looked at her, but he made no comment upon her appearance.
She faced the green eyes with an odd little feeling of shame. They seemed to see so much that she hid from all the world.
"You are very-punctual," she said, with an effort, as she turned to greet the local doctor. "I hope you found the car ready at the station."
"We were driven up by his lordship himself," said Capper.
She gave a great start. "O! Has he come down? I didn't know."
"He joined us at the terminus quite unexpectedly," Capper told her. "I have brought my assistant Rafford to administer the anæsthetic. Rafford, where are you?"
A dark young man, with absolutely black eyes and a high, dominant forehead, turned sharply from a rapt contemplation of Saltash's Captured Angel, and bowed automatically to Maud.
"I was just trying to make out the anatomy of those wings," he said, in a very pronounced American accent. "Guess it's a cute addition to the human frame, but I'd like to know how it's worked from the spinal column without an extra vertebra or two."
Maud suddenly felt hysterical. She looked at Capper, who pulled at his beard and smiled.
"Guess it's up to you to find the solution, Raff," he said.
Rafford bowed again. "I'd like to make a sketch of that figure if Lady Saltash will permit me," he said. "It's an anatomical problem."
The blood rose to Maud's pale face in a great wave. She was about to speak, when a voice at her shoulder spoke for her.
"I am sure Lady Saltash will be charmed to do so. But I think the face must be excluded. That can scarcely be of any anatomical interest to you."
Maud started. Saltash's hand gripped her elbow for a moment and instantly relaxed. He did not speak to her. The young American glanced back at the face of the statue, stared at it for a second, then looked again at Maud. She saw his thin black brows rise ever so slightly.
"The face is certainly of interest," he said, speaking with evident caution; "but not, as you say, my lord, from an anatomical point of view."
He withdrew himself with the words, seemed as it were to became Capper's background, while Saltash sauntered forward to offer refreshment.
Capper asked for coffee and smoked a cigarette. He sat in an ungainly attitude by the fire while these were in process of consumption, and spoke scarcely at all. Maud stood near him in silence, chafing at the delay, yet dreading unspeakably the moment when it should be at an end.
Saltash lounged smoking on a settee with Dr. Burrowes of Fairharbour, and chatted cheerily about local matters with one eye on the great American surgeon who sat cracking his long fingers so abstractedly before the fire.
Suddenly Capper turned his head and looked up at Maud. "Where is Jake?"
"He is coming," she made answer.
"Coming! Why? Does the boy want him? Is he nervous any?"
"He is being very brave," she said. "But of course, naturally, he is nervous."
He nodded. "Well, I guess we needn't wait for Jake. Let's go up! He'll keep a stiff upper lip if you're there."
He got up with the words; his bony, yellow hand closed upon her arm, kindly, reassuringly, confidently.
The burden of her anxiety grew magically lighter. She felt immensely comforted by reason of that friendly pressure. She prepared to lead the way.
Capper paused a moment. "I am going to have five minutes' talk with the patient," he said to Dr. Burrowes. "Will you be kind enough to follow on when the time is up? Raff, you can make your anatomical study right now, but be at my disposal in five minutes! Lord Saltash, maybe you will stay behind and show them the way."
He made his dispositions with the calm air of a man accustomed to obedience; and then, his hand still upon Maud's arm, he turned with her to ascend the stairs.
A great shivering fit assailed her as they went. She fought it resolutely down.
"Say, you're not worrying any?" he questioned. "It seems to me that it's you Jake ought to be thinking about. What have you been doing since I saw you last?"
"Nothing, nothing," she said hastily.
Capper grunted. "That's a very unhealthy occupation, especially for a woman."
She looked at him appealingly. "Oh, please, Dr. Capper, don't talk about me! I-I would so much rather not."
Capper smiled a little. "You're a true woman. But I can't have you worrying to death like this. Will you believe me when I tell you that this operation is going to be an almighty success?"
She stopped short. "Are you sure-quite sure?" she breathed.
He nodded. "I am willing to stake my reputation on it. If I weren't sure, I wouldn't touch it. I'm past the speculating age." He led her gently on along the corridor at the head of the stairs. "You may bet your last dollar," he said, "that I shan't mush up this business. I never lose my patients when they're young and keen. It's the older ones, when they get tired, fed up with life-" He paused, and a very human shadow crossed his face, darkening his shrewd eyes. "That's when God sometimes interferes," he said. "So I'm never quite sure of the older ones. But the youngsters-He lets me have my own way with them. There's such a mighty force in what the French call joie de vivre."
A quick sigh rose to Maud's lips. She laid a sudden, impulsive hand upon the long thin fingers that held her arm. "You are so good, so very good," she said tremulously.
Capper smiled. "Oh, just ordinary, I guess. Wait till you're up against me! You won't like me then. I'm going to have a straight talk with Jake presently-about you."
She gave a quick start of dismay. "Oh no! Please don't! Please don't! It-it's nothing to do with Jake. He wouldn't understand."
"He'll understand me," said Capper inexorably. "I've a patent way of expressing myself that leaves no room for misunderstandings. There! Now I've given you something more important than your brother to think about. Suppose you take me to him!"
She would have detained him to protest still further, but he refused to be detained, and she found herself compelled to yield. Very quietly he insisted, and she had no choice.