The Man with a Shadow

“I haven’t been there dozens of time for gran’fa for nothing,” she said, half aloud. “I know, and I will.

“But suppose —

“He wouldn’t,” she said, after a pause. “They say he never comes out of his room except at night – I will.”

Five minutes after she was going down the garden ostensibly to pick that bunch of parsley, and to obtain it she went to the very bottom of the kitchen garden, and thence into the meadows, through which she almost ran till she reached the bottom of the Manor House grounds, and then, knowing the place as she had from childhood, she easily made her way, unseen, to the surgery, to be found by North.

Dally returned triumphantly, but she did not take the brandy to her grandfather, but deposited it in her box in the bedroom before going about her work as calmly as if she had nothing more important in her mind than dusters and brooms, and the keeping tidy of the portions of the Rectory within her province.

But nothing missed her piercing little eyes, which seemed to glitter as the various matters occurred, and in the intervals she packed a few necessaries in a large reticule bag, which she hung over the iron knob of her bedstead in company with her jacket and hat.

No servant could have been more attentive, or apparently innocent-looking as she stared at Joe Chegg, who, after helping Salis to bear North into the drawing-room, was relegated to the kitchen to be refreshed.

Joe stared hard at her with an indignant frown, as he slowly ground up masses of bread and cheese, and washed them down with copious draughts of ale.

But Joe’s frowns had no effect upon Dally, and her aspect was simplicity itself, as, after a time, he took to shaking his head at her solemnly, following up each shake of the head with a sigh, and then apparently easing his sufferings by an angry bite at the bread.

Each time Joe looked and frowned, Dally replied with a simple, innocent maiden’s round-eyed, wondering gaze, which seemed to ask why he did not speak and say what he had to say.

But Joe Chegg said nothing, only ate, and frowned, and shook his head till he had done; and after a time Dally, having nothing else to do, thrust a little plump hand right down a black stocking till her knuckles represented the heel which had been peering through a large hole, and then and there she began to make worsted trellis-work which looked to Joe Chegg very similar to what he had often done in wood.

The drawing-room bell rang, but before Dally could answer it, Salis appeared at the door.

“Don’t go away, Chegg, my lad,” he said. “I don’t know what visitors may come, and I should like you to hang about the place and watch.”

“Well, you see, sir,” said Joe sturdily, “there’s a man’s time.”

“Oh, yes,” said Salis, smiling; “you shall be paid double time.”

“For how long, sir?”

“Wait and see; and keep a good lookout about the premises.”

He said these words as he was leaving the kitchen door, and met Leo in the hall, directly after, with her handsome eyes looking at him inquiringly.

It was observable, too, in the kitchen that Dally’s countenance looked a little more intent and she bent a little more over her stocking, and began to hum as she darned, while Joe Chegg took up the ale mug, and, after looking into it meditatively, began to work the table-spoonful left at the bottom round and round as if he were preparing an experiment whose aim was to keep one little blot of froth right in the centre like a tiny island of foam in a small sea of beer.

“Yes; I’ll watch,” he said to the mug; “and it won’t be the first time. It arn’t much goes on as I don’t see.”

Dally hummed and ceased to look catlike in her quiescence, for her aspect was kittenish now, and her hum deepened every now and then into a purr.

“Strange things goes on in this here village,” continued Joe, gazing into the mug; “and I sees a deal of what young ladies and persons does.”

Daily’s purr would now have done credit to a Persian puss: it was so soft and pleasant and round.

“But of all the things as ever I’ve see o’ young ladies, I never see aught as ekalled the way as Miss Mary’s got strong and well.”

Dally hummed now, and her tones were those of a musical bee, while the trellis-work in the stocking grew and grew.

“Well,” said Joe, after getting the drop of froth to stand very high out of its beery-whirlpool, “I’m a-goin’ to play policeman now.”

He tossed the remainder of the beer into his throat, and set down the mug.

“There arn’t many jobs as comes amiss to me.”

He rose and walked out of the kitchen, and as Dally saw him from the window on his way round to the front, she gave her stocking-covered fist a dab down on the table and uttered an angry “Ugh!”

Joe Chegg was not playing policeman long before he ran to the front door and knocked.

“Mist – Salis, sir! Mist – Salis. Here’s one on ’em.”

Salis was with North, and did not hear, so that when a keen old gentleman with white hair alighted from a fly, it was to find the door barred by the sturdy young workman.

“Is Dr North here?”

“What do you want with Dr North?” cried Joe surlily.

“I am a medical man, my lad,” said the old gentleman, smiling. “I have come down from London to see him.”

“Yes, I thought you had,” said Joe; “and you can’t see him, so you may just go back, as the t’others have done before. Eh? Oh, I beg pardon, sir. I thought it was the wrong sort.”

For Salis, hearing the altercation, had hurried out, and a brief explanation had set all straight.

“Poor fellow, poor fellow!” said the doctor, after following Salis into his room and hearing an explanation of the case. “Overwrought, I suppose. Well, let’s see him.”

They went to the darkened drawing-room to pause at the door, the doctor making a sign to Salis to stay while he watched the patient, who was ignorant of his presence.

North was lying back on the sofa with his eyes nearly closed, and Mary seated near, holding his hand, and bent towards him as if listening to his breathing.

Suddenly he started – crying out wildly as his eyes opened with a dilated stare; but as he tried to rise, Mary’s soft white hand was laid upon his forehead, and he sank back with a sigh of restfulness; his eyes closed again, and he lay breathing calmly.

Salis looked at Mr Delton, but the old man did not stir. Here was the case developing itself before him, and he could not study it better than unobserved.

Salis was about to re-enter the room, when Dally came and summoned him by pulling his sleeve.

“What is it?” he said sharply, as he turned.

“Mrs Milt, to see you, sir.”

Salis hesitated.

“I will wait till you return,” whispered the old doctor. “I am well employed.”

Salis hurried to where the old housekeeper was waiting.

“I’ve just heard that master is here, sir,” cried the old woman excitedly. “Oh, I am thankful! I found these papers in the study, sir; they were in an envelope directed to me, sir, and this one for the doctor master knows in London.”

Salis uttered a cry of joy.