Christina Page 9

  CHAPTER IX.

  "A VERY BEAUTIFUL LADY."

  The doctor's consulting-room was as uninteresting as the rest of thehouse, inside and out; and whilst Christina looked at the orthodox redwalls, the few conventional engravings, the closely-curtained windows,and the severely correct chairs and tables, a feeling of depressionstole over her. Almost unconsciously she had hoped that the doctor ofwhom she had come in search, would prove to be an individual of noordinary description; she had an odd fancy that the situation withwhich he would have to deal, would be one that was out of the common,and the bare thought of sending a commonplace, country doctor to helpthe beautiful lady with the anguished face, was intolerable to her.More than once, whilst she sat and waited in the dreary room, whoseoutlook into the depths of the pine woods was as depressing aseverything else about it, she half-rose, with a determination to goelsewhere and seek another doctor. Remembering, however, the urgencyof her message, and the uncertainty of finding another medical manwithin any reasonable distance, she was deterred from acting upon thisimpulse, though her heart sank with apprehension when the door at lastopened. But the man who entered was in no sense the kind of man shehad dreaded to see; there was nothing ordinary or commonplace, eitherin his own personality or in his greeting of her, and Christina couldonly feel devoutly thankful that she had not been misled by the mereexternals of house and furniture.

  "Now will you tell me what I can do for you?" The voice was cheery andkind; it gave her a sense of helpfulness, and the man's personality,like his voice, brought into the room an atmosphere of power andstrength.

  He was a short man, with very bright brown eyes, a clean-shaven face,and a mouth in which humour and determination struggled for themastery. But beyond and above everything else, it was a reliable face:Christina knew, with a subtle and sure instinct, that whatever this manundertook, would be carried through, if heaven and earth had to bemoved to bring about the carrying.

  "Doctor Stokes?" she said enquiringly.

  "No, I am not Doctor Stokes," he answered. "Doctor Stokes is away; hewas summoned away suddenly. My name is Fergusson, and I am doingDoctor Stokes's work."

  "I am very glad," Christina exclaimed naively, with a fervour of whichshe was not aware, until she saw the twinkle of amusement in the browneyes watching her.

  "Oh!--I--beg your pardon," she stammered. "I ought not----"

  "It is not my pardon you must beg," the doctor answered, laughing aspontaneous, and very boyish laugh, "and I will promise not to tellDoctor Stokes what you said," he added, his eyes still twinkling as hesaw the girl's confusion.

  "But indeed--please--oh! do understand," she faltered; "I don't knowDoctor Stokes. I am a stranger here, and I never saw him in my life,but----"

  "Then why were you so glad to find I was not he?" asked Fergusson, hisamused look turning to one of puzzled enquiry.

  "It sounds so silly," Christina said with seeming irrelevance, "but--Ididn't think the person who lived in--this kind of room--was the sortof doctor I wanted to find."

  Fergusson threw back his head and laughed.

  "Do you judge all humanity by the rooms in which it lives?" he asked.

  "Nobody but a commonplace person could live contentedly in a room likethis," Christina answered vehemently, "or call his house PinewoodLodge, or have a house just like this house."

  "I rather agree with you, but Doctor Stokes is a total stranger to metoo; we may be libelling him entirely; and--meanwhile, what can I dofor you?

  "I have come to ask you to go somewhere, on a matter of life anddeath," she answered, "but----"

  "Life and death?"--the doctor's smiling face grew grave--"then we mustnot delay. Where am I wanted?" He touched a bell by the fireplace."I will order the car at once. Tell me all details as briefly aspossible."

  His humorous accent had dropped; he spoke in terse, business-liketones, his brown eyes looked searchingly at her.

  "Bring the car round immediately," he said to a man who answered hisbell. "Now, tell me everything quickly," he went on, turning back toChristina.

  "Before you go, I have to ask you to promise not to tell any livingsoul where you have been; and you must swear to tell nobody what yousee and hear when you get to the house."

  Fergusson stared at her blankly.

  "Swear secrecy about where I go, and what I find there?" he said.

  "Yes--swear it," she answered, quailing a little before the suddensternness of his eyes.

  "But why?--in heaven's name, why?" he questioned, his voice growingimperious. "What reason can you have for making such extraordinaryconditions?"

  "Oh!--I have nothing to do with the conditions," Christina cried, "andplease--_please_ don't look doubtful, and as if you didn't mean to dowhat I ask. I have only come here as a messenger. There was nobodyelse to send, and the poor, beautiful lady seemed nearly distractedwith grief."

  "What poor, beautiful lady? You are talking in riddles. Try to tellme quietly where I have to go, and what is the name of the lady whoneeds me."

  "I--don't know," Christina faltered, conscious of how strangely herwords must fall upon his ears, when she saw the bewilderment deepen onhis face.

  "I was passing a house," she said quickly, before he could speak, "anda lady came running out--a very beautiful lady. She asked me to fetcha doctor. She said it was a matter of life and death, and she made mepromise to ask the doctor to swear secrecy--absolute secrecy. That isall I know--really all I know. But I am sure she is urgently in needof help."

  "What an extraordinary story!" the doctor said in a low voice, "and youdon't know who is ill? or what is the matter?"

  "Not in the least. I conclude the patient is a man, because the ladyspoke of 'him' and 'he,' but I know nothing more than I have told you.You will go to her? You will make the promise she asks? I can't bearto think of her sad, beautiful face, and her wonderful eyes."

  "I will go--yes, certainly I will go," Fergusson exclaimed, after amoment's pause; "if it is really a matter of life and death, I have nochoice but to go."

  "And--you will promise?"

  He looked into her face with a curiously grave and questioning glance.

  "You know of no reason why I should refuse to take such anunprecedented oath?" he asked.

  "I know nothing!" she answered emphatically. "I know of no reason,either for or against your doing it. Only--when I think of herbeautiful face, and of her eyes that seemed to hold all the sorrow inthe world, I feel as if you could only do what she asked you."

  "And if I refuse to swear?"

  "Then I shall refuse to tell you where the lady lives," she answeredwith spirit, "and I shall go and find another doctor. But--oh! pleasedo what she asks."

  A smile broke over Fergusson's grave face.

  "I don't half like the business," he said; "I am not fond of swearingin the dark, so to speak, and what guarantee have I that I am not goingto mix myself up in some discreditable affair?"

  "The lady I saw could not do anything discreditable," Christinaexclaimed warmly; "it is unthinkable."

  Fergusson's smile deepened.

  "She has a warm advocate in you; you are not a friend of hers?"

  "I never saw her before," Christina answered. "I am staying nearGraystone. I am nurse to Lady Cicely Redesdale's little girl, and itwas only by chance that we were passing the beautiful lady's houseto-day."

  "There comes the car," Fergusson said, as the crunching of wheels ongravel became audible; "now I will drive you as far as our ways gotogether, and you shall tell me where I am to go. I will not take myman, lest there should be any risk of my destination being discovered.And--I will take the required oath. Mind--I do it much against mywill, but, if it is a matter of life and death, I--can't refuse it.Come--your beautiful lady's secrets will be absolutely safe with me."

  As well as she was able, Christina gave a minute description of thelonely house in the valley, where she had received the strange message,and Fergusson, having deposited her safely within a ve
ry few hundredyards of Mrs. Nairne's farm, raced on across the moor and down thesteep lane, which the little cart had traversed so short a time before.

  "Never knew there _was_ any house down here," he mused, as he drovefurther and further along the lane; "uncanny sort of place." The shortDecember day was drawing to a close. No ray of the sunshine that stillshone on the moorland above, penetrated into this valley, whose steep,thickly-wooded sides threw deep shadows across it. "What on earthpossessed anybody to build a house in this gloomy hole, when all theuplands were there to be built upon?" So Fergusson's musings ran on,whilst the shadows thickened round him, the gloom of the placebeginning to oppress him like a nightmare. The roughness and steepnessof the road obliged him to proceed slowly and with great caution, andthe fast-fading light made his progress a difficult one. It was arelief to him, therefore, when, through the semi-darkness, he becameaware of a high stone wall on his right, and descried, above the wall,the dim outline of a chimney, from which smoke issued.

  "This, presumably, is the place," he muttered, stopping the car beforea door in the wall; "and now, how does one get into such a veryprison-like abode?"

  He had by this time alighted, and was standing in the lane, lookingfirst at the closed green door, then at the frowning wall, and finallyup the steep way by which he had come--a way which, in the fast-fallingdarkness, was beginning to resemble a long black tunnel.

  Now that the sound of his car's machinery had ceased, the silencearound him was very eerie, and Fergusson found that some words of theburial service were beating backwards and forwards in his brain--

  "The grave and gate of death ... The grave and gate of death."

  He made a great effort to shake off his uncanny sensations, but theywere only heightened by the gloom about him, and by the death-likesilence which brooded over the valley. The lane, as he could faintlysee, ended only a few yards beyond the gate at which he stood, andmerged itself into a grassy track amongst the densest woodland; and thehouse, with its surrounding wall, was so enclosed by woods, that theyseemed to be on the point of swallowing it up altogether.

  "What a place for a crime--for any number of crimes," Fergussonreflected, with a shudder, as he peered about the green door, trying todiscover any means of making his presence known to the inmates of thehouse beyond the wall. But neither bell nor knocker was visible, andthe doctor, after banging vainly on the wood of the door, moved away,and walked slowly round the wall, seeking for another entrance. Anarrow, grass-grown path, evidently rarely used, ran close under thewall, but Fergusson made the whole circuit of the place without findingany other means of entrance, excepting an old iron gate, rusty withage, choked up with weeds and rank grass. It was obvious that the gatehad not been opened for years, and that it was certainly not reckonedby the inhabitants of the house as one of the entrances. Fergussonpeered through the bars, but the light was so dim, and the grass andundergrowth so thick and high, that beyond getting an impression of aneglected garden, he saw nothing. He fancied, however, that he couldcatch a distant murmur of voices, and he called out loudly:

  "Is there any means of getting in here? I am the doctor." Totalsilence answered him, a silence only broken by the sharp clang of aclosing door inside the house. When the echoes of the sharply clangingdoor died away, silence settled down more deeply than ever upon theplace; and Fergusson, as he completed his circuit of the walls, andfound himself once more at the green door, felt strongly tempted toclimb into his car again and drive away.

  But the remembrance of the girl who had so lately stood in hisconsulting-room, looking at him with wistful eyes, speaking in soappealing a voice, determined him to make one more attempt to gainaccess to the inaccessible house, and, lifting up his hands, hebattered on the green door with heavy thuds that reverberated loudly inthe silence.

  "They must be all deaf or dead, if that fails to bring them out," heexclaimed grimly, pausing for a moment to take breath; then, when noone responded to his efforts, he was beginning again to hammer at thedoor, when the sound of a footstep fell on his ears, and a woman'svoice from within the gate cried--

  "Who is there?"

  "The doctor--Dr. Fergusson," he answered impatiently; and upon that, heheard the grinding of a key in the lock, bolts were shot back, and thedoor was opened. A woman stood in the aperture, a woman whom Fergussontook to be a servant, and she stood aside, a little, as though invitinghim to enter.

  "I was asked to come here," he said. "Is there someone ill? Am Iwanted?"

  "Yes, sir," the woman answered quietly. "Will you come in? I am sorrythere was any delay in answering the door, but--I--couldn't get away."

  Her voice was low and shaken, and Fergusson now observed that she wastrembling violently.

  "Come--in--quickly, sir," she jerked out. "I am afraid what mayhappen--come quickly!" Whilst she spoke, she was locking and boltingthe green door again; then, without uttering another syllable, she ledthe way up a flagged path, across a bare and deserted garden, to awhite stone house, through whose open front door a stream of light fellacross an unkempt, overgrown lawn.

  "This way, sir," the woman said, when, having entered the door, sheturned across a wide hall; "this way--quickly!" As she uttered thelast word, a little cry broke the stillness of the house--a woman'scry, sharp with fear, and the doctor's guide, her face suddenly grownlivid and pinched, broke into a run. They were passing along acorridor, which intersected the hall at one end, and even in his hurryFergusson noticed the thickness of the carpet beneath his feet, and theheavy curtains that shrouded the windows on his right; noticed, too,that after that one short sharp cry, a silence had fallen over thehouse again--a silence as sinister and uncanny as that in the valleyoutside.

  His guide paused before a door on their left, and as she turned herplain but kindly face towards him, he saw how strained and ashen it hadgrown, and what a great fear looked out of her eyes.

  "It is so quiet," she whispered in low, horror-stricken accents, "soquiet--I--am--afraid!"

  Pushing her aside, Fergusson opened the door, ashamed of feeling howhard his own heart was knocking against his ribs, ashamed of thatmomentary shrinking from what he might find inside the room; but hisinvoluntary shrinking did not bring with it even a second ofhesitation. He opened the door widely, and stepped straight into theapartment. Excepting for a night-light burning on a chest of drawers,the room was in darkness, and he could make out nothing of hissurroundings. Then, as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, heuttered a short exclamation of horror, and moved hurriedly forwards,calling to the woman behind him to bring a light, and to bring itquickly.