The Royal Regiment, and Other NovelettesGrant, James
History
The Royal Regiment, and Other Novelettes
Grant, James
Scotland -- Fiction; Scotland -- History, Military -- Fiction
I soon remarked, however, that he never sent me to the baronet's.
Every visit there he made in person, and by himself; every dose of
medicine, however infinitesimal, was conveyed there by his own hand;
for he liked to have it to say to a friend _en passant_, "I am just
going to," or, "have come from Sir Percival Chalcot. Lady Chalcot is
unwell;" or, "Miss Gertrude over-danced herself at the Palace last
night." So that great house, near where now the stately arch is
overtopped by that hideous statue of Wellington, was to me as a
sealed book. I soon ceased to think about it, and gave all my
attention and skill to the smaller fry in the neighbourhood of the
Strand; and between St. Clement's and St. Martin's there is scope
enough, heaven knows!
One day a professional visit had taken me farther westward than
usual, and I was sitting wearily on a seat in Hyde Park, near the
statue of Achilles, watching the occasional carriages rolling past--I
say occasional, for it was an hour or two before the fashionable
time--when a cry roused me, and I saw a spirited horse coming along
the drive at a terrific pace. Its head was down, and it had
evidently the bit between its teeth; while the reins, which had
escaped the hand of the rider, a lady, were dangling between, the
forelegs. She seemed a skilful horsewoman, and kept her saddle well.
I saw her floating skirt, her streaming veil, her pale face, and
wild, imploring glance as she came on.
One or two men attempted to catch the bridle, but were instantly
knocked over.
I leaped the iron railing, and by the greatest good fortune contrived
to snatch the reins, to gather them together at the same instant, to
twist the curb behind the horse's jaw, thus arresting his progress;
and then, with a strength I did not think myself possessed of, to
bear it furiously back upon its haunches. At the same moment that I
thus mastered it, I was conscious of hearing something snap; a
dreadful pain shot through my left arm, which hung powerless by my
side; but the lady who was both young and beautiful, with a
charmingly minute face, and large dark hazel eyes gave me a glance
expressive of intense relief and gratitude.
"Thank you, sir--thank you. Oh, how shall I ever sufficiently thank
you?" she muttered hurriedly with pallid lips.
"It was well done, miss--splendidly done of the gentleman," said her
old gray-haired groom, who came up at a rasping pace. "Another
instant and the blind brute would have dashed you ag'in yonder gate."
"My papa shall thank you for this, sir; at present I am unable to
speak," she added.
So also was I; but she knew not the extent of the injury I had
suffered, as she bowed and rode away, her horse being now led by the
groom, who had taken its bridle; while I was left there with my
broken limb, and without any clue as to who she was, save her
handkerchief, which I had picked up on the walk, and in a corner of
which was the single letter "G."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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