The Rider of Waroona Part 30

Were he free to see her he did not fear defeat; but while he was lying helpless at Taloona anything might be happening at Waroona Downs.

That morning the doctor had told him it would be weeks before he would be well enough to resume work if he did not make more rapid progress. He had poured out professional plat.i.tudes against the folly of fretting and worrying against the inevitable, but neither his plat.i.tudes nor the soundness of his reasoning could still the eager longing which was at the root of the patient's r.e.t.a.r.ded convalescence.

If he could only see her the days would not be so blank; even to hear of or from her would be something; but this complete separation, this seemingly hopeless isolation racked him with impatience. Wherefore the sound of her voice breaking in upon his mournful reveries, of which she was the central figure, made his heart leap with delight.

Come to take one of them away with her! Saving that his head swam so much when he moved he would have crawled out of his bunk and appealed to her that he should be the one, lest the other should be before him.

He strove to catch something more of the conversation carried on between her and the doctor, but their voices were not sufficiently loud for him to hear more than the sound of them. The creaking of the door as it opened made him turn his eyes as the doctor came in.

"I've a visitor to see you. Do you think you can stand it?" he asked.

Over the doctor's shoulder Durham caught a glimpse of Mrs. Burke, and the smile that rippled over his face was all the answer he had time to give before she stood beside him.

"Oh, the poor, poor fellow," she exclaimed softly. "Sure he's just pining for a change of air and a sight of the bush once more. It's Waroona Downs that's the place where he can get what he wants and recover so as to catch those villains that have done him so much harm.

I've come to fetch you, Mr. Durham. I've a waggonette outside and a storeful of blankets, and Patsy to drive--sure he can't go faster than a funeral at the best, so there's no fear of any jolting on the way. If you want to come, the doctor says you may, and he'll ride along later and see you are all fixed up before he goes after his other patients who are all dying, poor things, without his help one way or the other."

Would he go? His pale cheeks flushed at the chance of escape from the deadly solitude of the past few days. Anywhere would be better than inside that bare, cheerless hut, anything preferable to lying on the hard wooden bunk with only a blanket over him, and only an occasional flying visit from Mrs. Eustace and the periodical dosing by the doctor.

But Waroona Downs with the woman he was beginning to idolise daily with him!

"Will you come?" she asked softly, as he did not speak.

"If I only could," he answered.

"There, doctor, you heard him? I'll tell Patsy to spread the blankets on the floor of the waggonette, and sure he'll never know he's moving till he's there."

"It may shake you up a bit," the doctor said, as Mrs. Burke left the hut. "But I must get away to a case to-morrow, and the old man is as much as any woman can look after. Do you think you can stand the drive?"

"I'd stand anything to get out of this place," Durham answered. "If you think I can stand it, I'm satisfied."

"Oh, you're tough enough to stand anything," the doctor replied. "You could not be alive to-day if you had not the const.i.tution of a steam-engine. They'd charge me with manslaughter down in one of the cities, moving a man who had barely had a week's rest after a crack in his skull; but we have to take things as they come in the bush, my lad, and it's mostly rough at the best."

New life seemed already to have come to him, and when they had placed him in the waggonette, lying comfortably on the pile of blankets Mrs.

Burke had spread, the wan weariness had gone and Durham smiled up into the face that looked down on him with so much softness in the dark-lashed eyes.

Overhead the sky was blue as turquoise, and the clear sunlit air fanned him with a faint breeze redolent with the aromatic perfumes which float through the atmosphere of the bush. The horses moved along at the slowest pace they could manage beyond a walk, and the gentle sway of the waggonette on its easy, old-fas.h.i.+oned springs lulled Durham into a delightful sense of restfulness and content. Gradually his eyelids grew heavy and drooped; peaceful, restful, he floated away into slumber as easily as though he had been a child rocked in a cradle.

The sunlight had given place to the shade of evening when he opened his eyes. The rhythmic beat of the horses' hoofs blended harmoniously with the sway of the vehicle in which he was travelling, and the cool air was filled with a delicious fragrance. He awakened with so keen a sense of vitality that for the moment he forgot he was an invalid, and made an effort to rise. But the strength he felt in his muscles was only the trick of his imagination; he could barely lift his head.

But that was sufficient to show him that he was in the waggonette alone.

The seat where Mrs. Burke had been when his eyes closed was unoccupied.

He turned sufficiently to look at the box-seat. A figure loomed through the dusk, but it seemed more st.u.r.dy than the withered frame of old Patsy.

He made another effort to sit up. It was not entirely successful, but it enabled him to see out of the vehicle. Away behind them the dark shadow of the range between the towns.h.i.+p and Waroona Downs rose against the sky.

"Where is Mrs. Burke?" he called, turning his face towards the form of the driver.

The horses stopped, and the figure on the box leaned back as a merry laugh came down to him.

"Oh, are you awake then? Sure I thought you were asleep for good and all the way you never moved all the journey. And did you think I had vanished and left you to the tender mercies of that old fool? Well, now, that's a poor compliment to yourself surely, to think I'd run away from you as soon as I saw your eyes were closed. No, no, I've got charge of you till you are well and strong again, though maybe I'll have hard work to shunt you at all then, you'll be so used to being nursed. But I had to come and drive while I sent the old man on ahead to get the door open and a fire alight so as to give you something hot to cheer you as soon as you reached the house."

"But he cannot walk quicker than we are going?"

"Going? Why, we're standing still. So we were at the top of the hill where the horses, poor beasts, wanted a long rest to get their wind again, seeing how they had come all the way without as much as a five minutes' break since we started. You were sleeping through it all so peacefully I had not the heart to disturb you, but sent the old man on ahead while I climbed up here. Sure we're nearly there; I can see the light of the lamp s.h.i.+ning out of the window. Just keep quiet and rest now till we're there."

She started the horses again, and Durham lay back on his blankets till he felt the waggonette turn off the main road and drive slowly up to the house.

As it stopped, he managed to raise himself into a sitting position.

There was a momentary humming in his head, and he gripped the seats to steady himself. The cessation of the noise made by the moving wheels and trotting horses accentuated to his ears the still silence of the night.

So quiet was it that as the humming pa.s.sed from him the creaking of the springs when Mrs. Burke swung herself down from the box-seat seemed an actual noise.

Patsy's heavy tread echoed on the bare boards of the verandah. For a second they stopped, and through Durham's brain there rang a curious stifled sound, something like a cry coming from afar, a cry indistinct and choked as if it were m.u.f.fled.

The loud tones of Mrs. Burke's voice, speaking quickly and decisively, drowned it before the dulled brain could either locate whence it came or decide whether it was anything more than a variation of the humming in his ears.

"Come along now, Patsy. Hasten, you slow old fool. Don't you know Mr.

Durham will be tired?"

The old man stumbled and blundered down the steps, and Mrs. Burke came to the end of the waggonette.

"Oh, now, now! Sure is it wise to do that?" she exclaimed, as she saw Durham sitting up. "Why didn't you wait till we could help you?"

She leaned in and took hold of his arm.

"If you back the waggonette against the steps, I can get out easier," he said.

"Of course, of course. Now then, Patsy, why didn't you think of that?"

she exclaimed. "Turn the horses round while I stay with Mr. Durham."

She sat on the floor of the vehicle, still holding Durham's arm.

The touch of her hands, the sound of her voice as she maintained a steady stream of directions to Patsy, the fact of being so near to her, filled Durham with a gentle soothing. The dreaminess which had been upon him when the journey began, and before he sank into the contented slumber, returned. Her voice reached him as from a distance; his grip of the seats loosened, and as the waggonette turned he swayed until his head drooped upon the shoulder of the woman by his side.

Thereafter all was vague and misty until he came to himself and knew he was ascending the short flight of steps leading to the verandah, with Mrs. Burke supporting him on one side and Patsy the other.

As he reached the verandah his legs trembled beneath him, and he stood for a moment, leaning heavily upon the arms which supported him.

Again there came to his dulled brain the sound like a distant stifled cry.

"What's that?" he muttered. "What's that?"

"Oh, lean on me. Don't fall now. Oh, keep up, keep up. Sure what will the doctor say when he comes if you've hurt yourself?" the voice of Mrs.

Burke said in his ear.

"But that--that cry," he gasped. A cold s.h.i.+ver ran through him.

"There's no cry; there's nothing but me and old Patsy. Keep up, now. If you're worse, oh, what will the doctor say?"

The glare from the lamp s.h.i.+ning through the open window grew dim; the floor of the verandah rose and fell; his arms dropped nerveless to his sides and, with the faint m.u.f.fled cry still ringing in his ears, Durham went down into oblivion.