Americans -- England -- Fiction; West Country (England) -- Fiction
For two days the great blizzard continued, and Cecil Stark
remained more or less unconscious. Sometimes he recovered
sufficiently to speak, and his friend's name was upon his
tongue when he did so; but the sick man could neither frame a
coherent sentence, nor make his desires understood to any listener.
At length, however, he began to mend, and Maurice Malherb,
who held himself something of a physician, pronounced that the
lad was out of danger. For this happy circumstance he took all
credit to himself, but Grace declared that she it was who had
saved the wanderer's life. As yet she had not seen him. Her
mother and Dinah Beer ministered to him during his unconsciousness,
obeyed the master in every particular, and, with most
assiduous care, steadily nursed Cecil Stark back into life after he
had said farewell to it.
The American prisoner's return to intelligent speech brought
no small annoyance for his host. Stark's clothes were bought
from a Jew pedlar, and had not betrayed him; but he made
all clear as soon as he was able to do so; and Mr. Malherb,
stamping into the parlour after his first conversation with the
invalid, announced a discovery with considerable wrath. As yet
no news of the outer world had reached Fox Tor Farm. It lay
separated from all things by impenetrable barriers and drifts of
snow.
"An American! A wretched prisoner who broke out of Prince
Town on the night of the storm. One Cecil Stark, by a vile
coincidence. Doubtless that rascal who came so near to braining
Grace in the summer. Himself and other blackguards climbed
over the walls, for our sentries had been moved and wrapped in
cotton wool, I suppose, to keep the weakly fools from freezing!
Once in the teeth of the storm, three of the six prisoners turned
tail and went back as fast as their legs would carry them. Three
held on. One--a common sailor--was soon lost; two--this lad
and another officer--struggled to within a hundred yards of my
mansion. Then the elder fell to rise no more, and the boy, with a
last effort, reached us. The rest you know. Thanks to Grace
and to me, he will regain his worthless life, and not lose a finger."
"But the other poor souls--how monstrous sad to think that
one perished almost at our doorstep! I pray you despatch
Beer, Woodman, and the rest instantly, dear Maurice," cried
Mrs. Malherb.
"Am I a stone?" he answered. "Already the men and dogs
are seeking this unfortunate creature. But he is far beyond all
help. It may be that we shall not find him before the melting of
the snows."
Mr. Malherb hastened off, and Annabel, taking Grace with her,
went to see their guest. Young Lee had been appointed night
nurse to the sufferer, and now John met Grace and her mother as
they arrived.
"Mr. Stark is sitting up," he said. "He finds himself too
weak to rise, but he awaits you very eagerly. I hear him
mumbling a speech that shall express his deep regret for all the
care he has given here."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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