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Witness to the Deed Part 85

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"Impossible! It cannot be true."

Stratton looked at him wistfully, and shook his head.

"No," he said, drawing a deep breath; "it cannot be true."

Brettison, whose breathing was painful, lay back watching his companion with dilated eyes, and then turned to the woman who had drawn back from the bed and waited while her visitor talked to his friend.

"Madame," he said in French, "Monsieur Cousin?"



She turned from the window where she had been watching.

"Out on the sands, monsieur," she said in a startled way. "My good man says he is sitting with the new company who have come since yesterday to the house above."

"Where is your husband?"

"Out, sir. He--he was obliged to go to the _ville_."

"And still it is impossible," said Stratton slowly as he looked appealingly in the old man's eyes. "It cannot be true. Brettison, tell me that my mind is wandering; all this is more than I can bear."

"Shall I wait, monsieur?" asked the woman, who was trembling visibly.

"No, I am better now," said Brettison. "Leave me with my friend,"--and as soon as they were alone--"I shall not want a doctor now. There is some mystery here, Malcolm, lad, far more than we know."

"Thank G.o.d!" said Stratton, sinking into a chair and covering his face with his hands.

"Stratton," cried the old man fiercely, "is it a time to give up weakly like that?"

The stricken man started to his feet, and threw back his head as if his friend's words had suddenly galvanised him into life and action.

"That man is not to be trusted for an hour. You know it, and yet you stand there leaving her in his hands. Even if it were possible that her father has condoned the past, he does not know what is familiar to us.

But he has not. Boy, I tell you there is some mistake."

"What shall I do?" said Stratton hoa.r.s.ely.

"Go to them at once. Tell them of his attack upon me."

"They have forgotten the past, and will say it is the invention of a jealous enemy."

"Then I will go myself," cried the old man; and, feeble though he was, he insisted upon dressing for his self-imposed task.

"They will believe me," he said; "and though I can hardly think there is danger to anyone but us, whom Barron seems instinctively to a.s.sociate with his injury, Sir Mark must know the facts."

"Yes," said Stratton gravely; "he must know. I will go with you now.

He cannot doubt you."

The old man tottered a little, but his strong will supplied the strength, and, taking his stick, they moved toward the door.

"We have done wrong, Stratton," he said; "the man should have been denounced. I ought to have acted more wisely, but at first my only thought was to save you from the consequences of your misfortune, and keep all I knew from ever reaching Myra's ears. Our sin has found us out, and there is nothing for it but to make a clean breast now."

Stratton hesitated for a few moments.

"You are too feeble," he said.

"Oh, yes," cried the woman, who came forward. "Monsieur is too ill to go out. It is horrible that he should be so bad at our poor house."

"You say your husband is out?"

"Oh, yes, monsieur. I begged him not to go, but he said that he must go."

"Not to fetch a doctor?"

"N-no, monsieur," faltered the woman hysterically. "It is not my fault, monsieur; I begged him not to go--and--_O Ciel_! that it should have happened."

"No one blames you, my good woman," said Stratton as she burst into a hysterical fit of sobbing, while Brettison looked at her strangely. "If he had been here he could have helped my friend down to the sands."

"And monsieur will forgive us," sobbed the woman; "we are poor, honest people, and it is so terrible for your good friend to be like that."

"Quick!" said Brettison. "I am strong enough. Let's get it over before something happens."

He clung to Stratton's arm, and, supporting himself with his stick, he made a brave effort, and, gaining strength out in the soft sea air, he walked slowly but pretty firmly along by the foot of the cliff.

"If Jules would only return," sobbed the woman hysterically. "Oh, that such a misfortune should come upon our home! Poor gentleman! and he bears it like a lamb."

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

BARRON-DALE HAS A RELAPSE.

Brettison's progress was slow, but he refused to sit down and rest.

"We must get there," he said; "we must get there."

Stratton shuddered slightly, and for the moment felt that he ought to press on; but he knew that his words would have ten times the force with the admiral backed up by Brettison's presence, so he restrained himself and helped his companion along till they came in sight of the rocks, a good-sized boat keeping pace with them a couple of hundred yards out, its owners having hard work to stem the current which ran along the sh.o.r.e.

"Is it much farther?" said Brettison at last. "I am weaker than I thought."

"Seventy or eighty yards; just beyond those rocks," cried Stratton.

"Hah, then I am strong enough," cried Brettison, with a sigh of relief; and after a few moments' pause he stepped out again; they pa.s.sed the rocks, and the doubt which had existed in Stratton's mind as to whether the party would still be where he left them was set at rest. But he started as he saw that they were gathered together as if there were some cause of excitement.

"Come along," he whispered quickly.

They were hurrying along, when there was a joyful cry, and the st.u.r.dy Breton woman chosen for Dale's attendant cried out:

"Ah, monsieur; quick! quick! Here--help!"

Stratton quitted Brettison's side and rushed forward, to see, as the group opened, a sight that made his blood boil with rage.

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