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Briefly she told as much as she knew. With each successive sentence Caleb's mouth and eyes opened wider.
"And now," she ended, "as Peter and Paul have been waiting for their dinner this half-hour, I will be going. Don't trouble to come with me; but attend to your master. Good-morning, sir."
She dropped him a low curtsey and was gone. He started up.
"Where be goin', sir? Sit down; you'm not fit to stir."
But Mr. Fogo had pa.s.sed him, and was out of the room in a moment.
In spite of the pain that racked every limb, he overtook Tamsin in the porch.
"What are you doing?" she cried. "Go back to bed."
As she faced him, he could see that her eyes were full of angry tears. The sight checked him.
"It's--it's of no consequence," he stammered, "only I was going to ask you to be my wife."
For answer she turned on her heel, and walked resolutely down the steps.
Mr. Fogo stood and watched her until she disappeared, and then crawled painfully back into the house.
"An' now, sir," said Caleb, as he led his master to bed, "warnin' et es. This day month, I goes, unless--"
"Unless what, Caleb?"
"Well, sir, I reckons there be on'y wan way out o't, as the cat said by the sausage-machine, an' that es--to marry Tamsin Dearlove."
"My dear Caleb," groaned Mr. Fogo, "I only wish I could! But I will try again to-morrow."
CHAPTER XXIII.
HOW ONE LOVER TOOK LEAVE OF HIS WITS, AND TWO CAME TO THEIR SENSES.
But Mr. Fogo was not to try again on the morrow.
For Caleb, stealing up in the grey dawn to a.s.sure himself that his master was comfortably asleep, found him tossing in a high fever, and rowed down to Troy for dear life and the Doctor. Returning, he found that the fever had become delirium. Mr. Fogo, indeed, was sitting up in bed, and rattling off proposals of marriage at the rate of some six a minute, without break or pause. He was very red and earnest, rolled his eyes most strangely, and wandered in his address from Tamsin to Geraldine, and back again with a vehemence that gravelled all logic.
"Lord ha' mussy!" cried Caleb at last. "Do 'ee hush, that's a dear.
'Tes sinful--all these gallons o' true affecshun a-runnin' to waste.
You'm too lovin' by half, as Sam said when hes wife got hugged by a bear. What do 'ee think, sir?"
The last sentence was addressed to the little Doctor, who, after staring at the patient for some minutes without noticeable result, nodded his head, announced that the fever must run its course, and promised to send a capable nurse up to Kit's House without delay.
"Beggin' your pard'n, Doctor," interposed Caleb with firmness, "but I've a-got my orders."
"Eh?"
"I've a-got my orders. Plaise G.o.d, an' wi' plenty o' doctor's trade, [1] us'll pull 'un round: but n.o.body nusses maaster 'ceptin'
you an' me--leastways, no womankind."
"This is nonsensical."
"Nonsensical, do 'ee say? Look 'ee here, Doctor; do 'ee think I'd trust a woman up here wi' maaster a-makin' offers o' marriage sixteen to the dozen? Why, bless 'ee, sir, her'd be down an' ha' the banns called afore night, an' maaster not fit to shake hes head, much less say as the Prayer Books orders--'I renounce mun all.' That's a woman, Doctor, an' ef any o' the genteel s.e.x sets foot on Kit's beach I'll--I'll _stone_ her."
The Doctor gave way in the end and withdrew, promising another visit before evening. When he returned, however, at five in the afternoon, he found, with some wonder, a woman quietly installed in the sick-room. It happened thus:--
Barely an hour after the Doctor's departure, Caleb, sitting at his master's bedside, heard footsteps on the gravel walk, and looked out of window.
"Hist!" he called softly; and Peter Dearlove, followed by Paul, stepped round the angle of the house into sight. The Twins bore a look of the gravest perplexity and a large market basket.
"Hulloa!" said Caleb, "what's up?"
The pair looked at each other. At length Peter began with a serious face and unwonted formality of tone--
"Es Mr. Fogo wi'in?"
"Why, iss," Caleb allowed, "he's inside."
"We was a-wis.h.i.+n' to request o' the pleasure"--here Peter looked at Paul, who nodded--"the pleasure o' an interval o' five minnits."
"Interview," corrected Paul.
"I mis...o...b..s," answered his brother, "that you are wrong, Paul.
I remember the expresshun 'pon the programme o' a Sleight o' Hand Entertainment, an' there et said 'Interval'--'An Interval o' Five Minnits.'"
"Ef that's so," broke in Caleb from above with fine irony, "p'raps you wudn' mind handin' up your visitin' cards an' doin' the thing proper. At present maaster's busy."
"Busy?"
"Iss. A-makin' proposals o' marriage--which es a serious thing, an'
not to be interrupted."
The Twins set down the basket and stared at each other. Paul was the first to recover.
"Ef 'tes fully allowable to put the question, Peter an' me wud like to knaw the young leddy's name. 'Tes makin' bould to ax, but there's a reason."
"Well," said Caleb, disappearing for a moment and then poking his head forth again, "at the present moment 'tes a party answerin' to the name o' Geraldin'. A minnit agone 'twas--But maybe you'd better step up an' see for yoursel'."
"What!"
"Step up an' see."
"Now, Peter," said the Twin, turning from Caleb to contemplate his brother, "puttin' the case (an' far be et from me to say et cudn' be) as you was payin' your addresses to a young leddy answerin' to the name o' Geraldin' (which she wudn' be call'd that, anyway), an'
puttin' the case as you was a-makin' offers o' marriage, an' a pair o' twin-brothers (same as you an' me might be) walked up to the front door an' plumped in afore you'd well finished talkin' o' the weather-prospec's (bein' a slow man, though a sure)--now, what I wants to knaw es, wud 'ee like et yoursel'?"