Where is Lucy? exclaimed Madam Everard, looking round. Lucy had left the room; some minutes passed, and she did not return. Madam Everard became anxious. Mabel was again dancing, or she would have sent her to look for her cousin. Madam Everard hastened from the ball-room; she went up-stairs, and met a servant by the way.
Miss Everard went up into her room some time ago.
Madam Everard hastened forward, telling the maid to follow.
The door was slightly open. There was no sound in the room a lamp burned on the table; Madam Everards heart sank with dread. She looked round. Stretched on the floor lay her beloved niece in her gay ball dress, her countenance like marble, and blood flowing from her lips!
She breathes, she breathes! she said; and she and the maid lifted her on to the bed.
She had broken a blood-vessel. Madam Everard knew that at a glance: Lucys mother had done the same.
Dr Jessop must be sent for immediately; but Madam Everard did not wish to give the alarm to the rest of the guests. She would let the visitors depart, and allow those who were to remain in the house to go to their rooms before the sad intelligence was conveyed to them. She did all that could be done, and applied such restoratives as she believed would be effectual.
Immediately Paul Gauntlett threw himself on horseback, and galloped off to fetch Dr Jessop. He would not even stop to put a saddle on the horses back, and would have gone off with the halter.
Meantime Lucy returned to consciousness, and declared that she did not feel ill, only somewhat tired, and would like to go to sleep. The guests shortly began to take their departure. The maid-servants of the maiden ladies came with their pattens and hoods, and big cloaks, some with huge umbrellas in addition. There were footmen and footboys also, with many-coloured liveries, carrying huge stable lanterns to light their mistresses. They were generally employed in the service of the dowagers. The Fly was in requisition, but only for a select few.
As the guests came down-stairs, the foreign officers stood in the hall, occasionally making themselves useful, by assisting to put on the ladies hoods, cloaks, or shawls.
The young Baron de Ruvigny alone lingered. He had seen Lucy leave the room, and he became anxious, finding that she did not return. He asked the Colonel where she was. Just then a maid-servant came down
with a message from Madam Everard, requesting Colonel Everard to come to his daughters room.
What is the matter? asked the young Baron of the servant, as the Colonel hurried off.
Our mistress is very ill, very ill indeed, and I fear theres no hope of her recovery, answered the girl.
The young Baron entreated that he might be allowed to remain till the doctor had seen her.
Paul had found Dr Jessop at home. He accompanied him back at full speed. He looked very grave after he had seen Miss Lucy.
I should like my friend Dr Musgrave to see her. If the skill of any man can avail, I am sure that his will, but it would take two days to get him down here, and this is a case demanding immediate remedies.
Paul Gauntlett had come in with the doctor, and was waiting outside Miss Lucys room to hear his opinion.
I will do it, sir! he exclaimed, if you will tell me where Dr Musgrave is to be found; I will be off and bring him down as soon as possible.
Stay, friend, said Dr Jessop; while you are taking some refreshment and getting your horse ready, I will write out a state of the case, and if Dr Musgrave cannot come he will send by you such remedies as he may consider efficacious.
Paul scarcely liked the delay. He would have started on the back of the first horse he could lead out of the stable without thinking of food for himself. Within ten minutes he was galloping along through the forest. He could get to Redbridge, and Southampton, and so on to Winchester before daybreak. He could there get a fresh horse. He would distance any post-chaise; he was sure of that. He had left orders to have a fresh horse brought on for him to Southampton. He resolved not to waste a moment till he had brought the remedy for his dear Miss Lucy. His horse carried him nobly; he seemed to be aware that it was a matter of life and death. Paul had been with his master in London on several occasions. He knew the road, and being an old campaigner, without difficulty found his way to the doctors house. The doctor was out visiting patients. Paul fretted and fumed more than he had ever done in his life before. The servant was disposed to shut the door in his face, and send him to an inn.
That will not do, master, said Paul; I must wait here till the doctor comes back, and you must put up my horse, and rub him down, and feed him well. Its a matter of life and death; and Paul expatiated on the youth and beauty and gentle disposition of his young mistress, till the tears rolled down his cheek, and he almost made the doctors somewhat morose butler weep with him.
Oh, sir, sir, can you save her? he exclaimed, handing Dr Jessops note to Dr Musgrave, when he came back. Its impossible that so young and sweet a creature as Miss Lucy should be allowed to die. It cannot be, sir; it cannot be; it would break the Colonels heart, and mine, too.