CHAPTER X.
AN ANGEL UNAWARES.
The good Doctor White had his hands full of patients after the mêlée.
There was Lelia, in hysterics, with a bruised throat that would necessitate the wearing of a lace muffler for a week.
She had to be placed in another room and soothed to rest, for her own apartment was temporarily converted into a prison for the enraged burglars, who were bound securely on the floor, while Crawford grimly guarded them with a murderous-looking revolver.
The other man servant had been sent into town for the legal authorities to come and take them away.
Laurie had a flesh-wound in his arm from a knife-thrust, but after the doctor had dressed and bandaged it he declared cheerfully that it would be almost well to-morrow.
The worst case he had was Gipsy, and he looked grave over the bruised and swollen limb that Lucinda bared for his inspection.
“You had a lucky escape from a fractured limb; it came very near it,” he said bluntly, adding: “You will not be out of bed for a week.”
But Gipsy scarcely thought of herself. She was so thankful to know that the burglars had been caught before they did any harm.
She was feeling rested and refreshed, Lucinda having given her some light food and wine, and could tell her story in broken sentences, answering their kindly questions.
“Satan kicked me with his front hoof when I sprang at his head and jerked him down, but it was surely an accident. I do not believe he would hurt me if he knew it,” she said.
“He ought to be shot,” grumbled the doctor.
“Oh, no, not for worlds!” exclaimed Gipsy tenderly.
Here Miss Willoughby, with the proverbial curiosity of the spinster tribe, cried eagerly:
“But tell us now, my dear, how you ever managed to get to Laurie’s aid as soon as you did? He declared that there must have been witchcraft about it. Just a few minutes before you were standing on top of the precipitous cliff, far above, but right in the nick of time, just as if you had flown down on wings, there you were at the horses’ heads, and saved them from toppling over into the river.”
“It was a terrible moment!” exclaimed Gipsy. Then, with a faint smile on her pain-drawn lips, she added:
“I might make quite a secret of my feat, and mystify you all, but I don’t care to be branded as a witch, as well as a gipsy, so I will confess. Have none of you ever heard of the Hole in the Rock, as people call it?”
“Oh, yes, certainly,” exclaimed Miss Willoughby; but the doctor owned to ignorance, so she explained:
“From the top of the cliff, a mile from here, there is a deep split in the rock from top to bottom, coming out into the road. The solid rock seems to have been rent by some volcanic shock ages ago, and formed a rough, circuitous passage, like a winding, irregular stairway, difficult of descent, but affording a quick route to the road below.”
“Quite remarkable,” exclaimed the doctor, adding:
“So you took that route, Miss Darke, to the assistance of your friends?”
“Oh, yes, sir, for the moment I saw the horses bolt at the crash of thunder I knew they were in peril of their lives. Satan would never cease running till forcibly stopped, but I knew that at the first word from me he would get over his frenzy of fear. You see, sir, I had frolicked with Saint and Satan when they were colts, and they had quite an affection for me. So being quite near the hole in the rock, and familiar with the passage which made my descent easier, I hurried down it as fast as I could go, getting to the end of it just in time, and so close that it was no wonder it seemed as if I had dropped down from the skies.”
“It was a brave deed, and saved two lives!” exclaimed Doctor White admiringly, adding:
“Indeed, they owe you a double debt, for you saved them again to-night, besides preventing the robbery of the diamonds and plate. You have reason to be very proud of what you have done.”
The great somber dark eyes gleamed with pleasure. Gipsy murmured:
“I am happy to have been of service to Miss Willoughby’s relations. It helps me to pay my debt of gratitude for the kindness that has given me a home and shelter all my life.”
Miss Willoughby flushed red, and answered quickly:
“My dear, I have neglected my duty to you all along, but I did not fully realize until to-night that I was entertaining an angel unawares.”
So few were the kind words of praise that had ever fallen to the waif’s lot that she burst into tears at this tribute to her worth.
“I fear we are exciting our little patient too much. I will give her a powder, to ease her for to-night, and to-morrow, by your leave, I will send a trained nurse to pull her through all right,” said the doctor.
“Pray do so, doctor; the best one you can find. Meanwhile, Lucinda shall watch by her to-night,” said Miss Willoughby, as he went out, remaining to share Laurie’s vigil until the officers arrived, near daylight, to convey their prisoners to jail.
The next day dawned clear and bright and lovely, and Laurie and Lelia were not much worse off for their mishaps of yesterday.
Quite different with Gipsy, whom Lucinda reported as feverish and delirious.
Miss Willoughby wondered if she ought to postpone the house-party on this account, but Lelia demurred so quickly that she decided to let everything go on as planned.
Lelia never referred to her threat of breaking her engagement last night. She was enthusiastic over Laurie, declaring he had saved her life, never giving Gipsy any credit, and apparently not realizing that through the despised girl both her life and her valuable diamonds had been saved.
When Laurie reminded her reproachfully of this fact, she answered carelessly:
“It was very fortunate that she overheard the wretches, was it not? I will give her a present. Do you think she would like a new dress, or money to spend?”
“I think she would prefer a few words from your lips in acknowledgment of your gratitude. Aunt Cyrilla tells me that she earns a monthly salary by acting as her private secretary,” he answered rather curtly.
Lelia laughed heartlessly.
“I could never bring myself to stoop to the lower classes to thank them for services. Aunt Cy has fed and clothed that gipsy foundling all her life, and she has done no more for us than we had a right to expect. Of course, I shall give the girl a piece of jewelry, and I think that will pay our debt.”
Her betrothed husband said not a word; his thoughts were unutterable.
He felt the warm young life bounding through his veins, and knew he owed it all to the girl lying up-stairs in delirious pain, the cost she was paying for her bravery.
He looked at Lelia, so beautiful, so proud, and so arrogant, and knew that she was spared to him only through the sacrificing spirit of the girl she had openly scorned--and he marveled.
Never before had he felt so disgusted, but, reading his vexation in his face, she flew to him with fond reproaches, and he was beguiled again into the fondness that her beauty claimed as its just due.
The guests all arrived that afternoon, and the social whirl at The Crags became as gay as though a beautiful, brave young girl were not lying on her bed delirious with fever, watched closely by a trained nurse, with the doctor coming every day and shaking his gray head as he felt her pulse and listened to her senseless ravings.
“Worse than I looked for--much worse. But I’ll try to pull her through,” he said to the mistress of The Crags, who, between her social duties and her anxiety over Gipsy, was nearly frantic.
And one sleepless night she came to a startling resolution.
“If God spares me this beautiful, brave girl, I will adopt her as my beloved daughter and heiress!”