“I say, Knuck! Speak up, won’t you, man? It’s Rick!”
McHarg only seemed to snore more hoarsely at this announcement, but after a moment he shifted one long jack-knifed leg a few inches and, without opening his eyes, grunted: “‘Lo, Rick.” Then he began to snore again.
“I say, Knuck!” the Englishman cried with sharper insistence. “Won’t you get up, man? We’re waiting for you at the house!”
There was no response except the continued heavy breathing. The Englishman made further efforts but nothing happened, and at length he withdrew his head out of the car and, turning to George, said:
“I think we’d better help him inside. Knuck has worn himself out again, I fancy.”
“Yes,” said George anxiously. “He looks desperately ill, as if he were on the point of complete physical and nervous collapse. We’d better call a doctor, hadn’t we?”
“Ow, no,” said the Englishman cheerfully. “I’ve known Knuck a long time and seen this happen before when he got all keyed up. He drives himself mercilessly, you know—won’t rest—won’t stop to eat—doesn’t know how to take care of himself. It would kill anybody else, the way he lives. But not Knuck. It’s nothing to worry about, really. He’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
With this comforting assurance they helped McHarg out of the car and stood him on his feet. His emaciated form looked pitifully weak and frail, but the cold air seemed to brace him up. He took several deep breaths and looked about him.
“That’s fine,” said the Englishman encouragingly. “Feel better now, old chap?”
“Feel Godawful,” said McHarg. “All in. Want to go to bed.”
“Of course,” said the Englishman. “But you ought to eat first. We’ve kept dinner waiting. It’s all ready.”
“No food,” said McHarg brusquely. “Sleep. Eat to-morrow.”
“All right, old man,” the Englishman said amiably. “Whatever you say. But your friend here must be starved. We’ll fix you both up. Do come along,” he said, and took McHarg by the arm.
The three of them started to move up the path together.
“But, sir,” spoke a plaintive voice at George’s shoulder, for he was on the side nearest the car. Full of their own concerns, they had completely forgotten the little driver. “But, sir,” he now leaned out of the window and whispered: “what shall I do with the car, sir? Will”—he moistened his lips nervously—“will you be needing it again tonight, sir?”
The Englishman took immediate charge of the situation.
“No,” he said crisply, “we shan’t be needing it. Just drive it up behind the house, won’t you, and leave it there.”
“Yes, sir, yes, sir,” the driver gasped. What he was still afraid of not even he could have said. “Drive it up be’ind the ‘ouse, sir,” he repeated mechanically. “Very good, sir. And—and—” again he moistened his dry lips.
“And, ow yes!” the Englishman cried, suddenly recollecting. “Go into the kitchen when you’re through. My butler will give you something to eat.”
Then, turning cheerfully and taking McHarg by the arm again, he led the way up the path, leaving the stricken driver behind to mutter: “Yes, sir, yes, sir,” to the demented wind and scudding moon.
After the blind wilderness of storm and trouble, the house, as they entered it, seemed very warm and bright with lights. It was a lovely house, low-ceilinged, panelled with old wood. Its mistress, a charming and very beautiful woman much younger than her husband, came forward to greet them. McHarg spoke a few words to his hostess and then immediately repeated his desire for sleep. The woman seemed to take in the situation at once and led the way upstairs to the guest-room, which had already been prepared for them. It was a comfortable room with deep-set windows. A fire had been kindled in the grate. There were two beds, the covers of which had been folded neatly down, the white linen showing invitingly.
The woman left them, and her husband and George did what they could to help McHarg get to bed. He was dead on his feet. They took off his shoes, collar, and tie, then propped him up while they got his coat and vest off. They laid him on the bed, straightened him out, and covered him. By the time all this was done and they were ready to leave the room, McHarg was lost to the world in deep and peaceful slumber.