The Gambler Part 15

"He's never had any need of it," Clodagh whispered sharply. "Will you come, Mr. Milbanke? He's quite alone. The nurse is resting."

With great dignity Mrs. a.s.shlin moved away.

"I shall ask Hannah to get me a cup of tea, Clodagh," she murmured. "I get such a headache from a sick-room."

Without replying, Clodagh turned again to Milbanke.

"He's not to get excited," she whispered. "And mind--mind--don't say that you think him looking badly."

She paused and laid her fingers lightly on his arm; then with a swift movement, she stepped forward, drawing him with her into the big, darkened room with its sense of preternatural quiet, and its pungent, suggestive smell of drugs and antiseptic dressings.

CHAPTER II

With a strange blending of curiosity and shrinking, Milbanke obeyed the pressure of Clodagh's hand, and moved forward into the room. The cold March daylight was partly excluded by drawn blinds, but a glow from the fire played upon the walls and the high four-post bedstead.

With the same mingling of curiosity and dread, his eyes fell at once upon this prominent article of furniture and remained fixed there in doubt and incredulity. For the moment his senses refused to acknowledge that the feverish, haggard face that stared at him from the pillows was the face of a.s.shlin--a.s.shlin, tyrannical, pa.s.sionate, greedy of life.

In the hours of agony that he had pa.s.sed through, the sick man's features had become shrunken, causing his eyes to stare forth preternaturally large and restless; his hair had been cropped close, to allow of the dressing of a wound over the temple, and the tight white bandages lent a strange and unfamiliar appearance to his finely shaped head. With a sick sensation, Milbanke went slowly forward.

The patient made no attempt to move as he drew near the bed, but his feverishly bright glance seemed to devour his face.

"Here he is, father!" Clodagh exclaimed softly and eagerly. "Here's Mr.

Milbanke! Now, aren't you happy? He's not able to move," she explained, turning to the guest. "It gives him terrible agony to stir."

Milbanke had reached the bed; and with a sensation of awkwardness and impotence impossible to describe, he stood looking down upon a.s.shlin.

"My poor Denis!" he said. "My poor, poor friend! This is a bad business; I had no idea----"

Then he paused confusedly, remembering Clodagh's warning.

"But we'll see you laughing at it all before we're much older," he added, in awkward haste to make amends.

A gleam of something like irony crossed a.s.shlin's watchful eyes.

"I'm done for this time, James!" he said feebly. "I suppose I've had my day, and, like every other dog, must answer to the whistle. I don't complain! I'm getting more than my deserts in seeing you again. You're as welcome as the flowers in----"

His voice failed.

"I know--I know! Don't trouble! Don't try to speak!" Milbanke bent over him anxiously.

But a.s.shlin glanced back.

"Ah, but that's what I must do, James!" he said sharply. "That's what I want you for. I have something that must be said."

Milbanke turned to Clodagh.

"Is it right of him to excite himself?" he asked in distress. "If it's anything that you reproach yourself with, Denis----"

But a.s.shlin interrupted with a weak echo of his old intolerance.

"Send Clo away!" he said. "There's something I want to say."

Again Milbanke looked helplessly at Clodagh, but her eyes were fixed pa.s.sionately on her father's face.

"He'll excite himself more if we cross him," she said hesitatingly. "I think I'd better go."

Still Milbanke hesitated.

"But the doctor?" he hazarded. "If the doctor insists on quiet----"

She glanced at him quickly, her clear eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g.

"Oh, I don't know!" she exclaimed; "I can't cross him--I can't cross him! He's wanted you so badly."

She turned quickly towards the bed.

"Father," she said tenderly, "won't you promise not to talk much? Won't you promise to take care?"

For answer, a.s.shlin looked up, meeting her glance.

"I'll promise, child--I'll promise. Run away now--and G.o.d bless you!"

He added the expressive native phrase in a suddenly lowered voice.

Clodagh bent quickly and kissed his hot, drawn face with pa.s.sionate affection; then, as if fearing to trust herself, she turned hastily and pa.s.sed out of the room.

Instantly the two men were alone, a.s.shlin turned to his guest.

"James," he said agitatedly, "I haven't thought much about the Almighty in these last years; but I give you my word, I have prayed that I might see you before I die."

"My dear Denis, don't! I beg you not to excite yourself. I implore you----"

a.s.shlin made a harsh sound of impatience.

"Don't waste breath over a dying man," he said roughly. Then, seeing the distress in the other's face, he altered his tone. "Don't take it to heart, James! It's the road we must all travel. They think there's life in me yet, but I know better. You may blindfold a sheep as much as you like, but 'twill know that you're dragging it to the slaughter. I tell you I'm done for--as done for as if the undertaker had measured me for the coffin."

He moved his head slightly and painfully, his feverish glance brightening.

"James," he exclaimed suddenly, "I'm in a terrible position! But 'tisn't death that's troubling me."

"Denis!"

"'Tis true! I'm not frightened of death--I hope I'm man enough to face a natural law. 'Twould have been better if I'd had to face it thirty years ago."

"Denis, don't! I beg you to keep quiet----"