The Kopje Garrison Part 67

"Ur-r-r-r!" growled d.i.c.kenson.

"It is between ourselves, mind, and it is only my theory. He lost his nerve in the middle of that fight-had a fit of panic, and, as Roby and the corporal say (very cruelly and bitterly), ran for his life-bolted."

"I'll never believe it, sir."

"Well, remain a heretic if you like; but that's my theory."

"I tell you, sir-"

"Wait a minute, my lad; I haven't done. I suggest that he had this seizure-"

"And I swear he had not!"

"Wait till I've finished, boy," said the doctor sternly.

d.i.c.kenson stood with his brow knit and his fists clenched, almost writhing in his anger; and the doctor went on:

"I suggest, my dear boy, that he had this fit of panic and was aware that it must be known, when, after running right away-"

"Yes, sir; go on," said d.i.c.kenson savagely-"after running away-"

"He came quite to himself, felt that he would be branded as a coward by all who knew him, and then, in a mad fit of despair-"

"Yes, sir-and then?"

"You told me that he came back without his revolver."

"Yes, sir," said d.i.c.kenson mockingly-"and then he didn't blow his brains out."

"No," said the doctor quietly, "for he had lost his pistol, perhaps in the fight; but it seems to me, d.i.c.kenson, that in his agony of shame, despair, and madness, he tried to hang himself."

"Tried to do what?" roared d.i.c.kenson.

"What I say, my dear boy," said the doctor gravely.

"I say, doctor, have you been too much in the sun?" said d.i.c.kenson, with a forced laugh, one which sounded painful in the extreme.

"No, my dear fellow; I am perfectly calm, and everything points to the fact-his state when you found him, sorrowful, repentant, and utterly exhausted by his sufferings in his struggles to get back to face it out like a man."

"Doctor, you are raving. His appearance was all compatible with a struggle, fighting with the Boers-a prisoner bravely fighting for his escape. Everything points to your fact? Nonsense, sir-absurd!"

"You're a brave, true-hearted fellow, d.i.c.kenson, my lad, and I like you none the less for being so rude to me in your defence of your poor friend. He must be sleeping now after the dose I gave him. Come with me, and I'll give you a surprise."

"Not such a one as you have already given me, doctor," said the young man bitterly.

"We shall see," said the doctor quietly; and the next minute he was standing by Lennox's side, carefully lifting a moistened bandage laid close to his neck.

d.i.c.kenson uttered a faint cry of horror. For deeply marked in his friend's terribly swollen neck there was a deep blue mark such as would have been caused by a tightened cord, and in places the skin was torn away, leaving visible the eroded flesh.

"Oh doctor!" groaned d.i.c.kenson, trembling violently.

"Hold up, my dear boy," whispered his companion. "No one knows of it but my orderly, you, and myself. It will soon heal up, and I shall not feel it my duty to mention it to a soul."

Chapter Thirty Three.

The Tale he told.

"Look here, Roby," said d.i.c.kenson, three or four days later, when, having a little time on his hands-the Boers, consequent upon their late defeat, having been very quiet-he went in to sit with the captain of his company, finding him calm and composed, and ready to talk about the injury to his head, which seemed to be healing fast.

"Precious lucky for me, d.i.c.kenson," he said; "an inch lower and there would have been promotion for somebody. Narrow escape, wasn't it?"

"Awfully."

"Such a nuisance, too, lying up in this oven. I tell Emden that I should get better much faster if he'd let me get up and go about; but he will not listen."

"Of course not; you're best where you are. You couldn't wear your helmet."

"My word, no! Head's awfully tender. It makes me frightfully wild sometimes when I think of the cowardly way in which that cur Lennox-"

"Hold hard!" cried d.i.c.kenson, frowning. "Look here, Roby; you got that crotchet into your head in the delirium that followed your wound. You're getting better now and talk like a sane man, so just drop that nonsense."

"Nonsense?"

"Yes; horrible nonsense. Have you thought of the mischief you are doing by making such a charge?"

"Thought till my head has seemed on fire. He'll have to leave the regiment, and a good job too."

"Of course, over a craze."

"Craze, sir? It's a simple fact-the honest truth. Ask Corporal May there.-It's true, isn't it, May?"

"Oh yes, sir; it's true enough," said the corporal, "though I'm sorry enough to have to say it of my officer."

"It doesn't seem like it, sir," said d.i.c.kenson in a voice full of exasperation.

"No, sir; you think so because you always were Mr Lennox's friend. But it ain't my business, and I don't want to speak about it. I never do unless I'm obliged."

"You-you worm!" cried d.i.c.kenson, for he could think of nothing better to say. "Have you ever thought it would have been much better, after your lit of fright in the cavern, if Mr Lennox had left you to take your chance, instead of risking his life to save yours?"

"No, sir; I ain't never thought that," whined the man; "but I was very grateful to him for what he did, and that's what keeps me back and makes me feel so ill speaking about him. I wouldn't say a word, sir, but you see I must speak the truth."

"Speak the truth!" growled d.i.c.kenson as he turned angrily away. "Look here, Roby, if I stop here much longer I shall get myself into trouble for kicking a patient. Now, once more, look here. You've done an awful lot of mischief by what you said when your fit of delirium was on you, and you're in such a weak state now that as soon as you begin thinking about Lennox you make yourself worse by bringing the crazy feeling back again."

"Crazy feeling? Bah! I know what I'm saying. A coward! I wish the old days were back. I'd call him out and shoot him."