Throughout the long night I called many times at the hospital, but the
reply was always the same. Jack had not regained consciousness, and the
doctor regarded his case as hopeless.
In the morning I drove in hot haste to Bassett Road, Notting Hill, and
at the address Olinto had given me found Muriel. When she entered the
room with folding doors into which I had been shown, I saw that she was
pale and apprehensive, for we had not met since her flight, and she was, no doubt, at a loss for an explanation. But I did not press her for one. I merely told her that the Italian Santini had given me her address and that I came as bearer of unfortunate news.
"What is it?" she gasped quickly.
"It concerns Captain Durnford," I replied. "He has been injured in the
street, and is in Charing Cross Hospital."
"Ah!" she cried. "I see. You do not explain the truth. By your face I
can tell there is something more. He's dead! Tell me the worst."
"No, Miss Leithcourt," I said gravely, "not dead, but the doctors fear
that he may not recover. His wound is dangerous. He has been shot by
some unknown person."
"Shot!" she echoed, bursting into tears. "Then they have followed him, after all! They have deceived me, and now, as they intend to take him from me, I will myself protect him. You, Mr. Gregg, have been in peril of your life, that I know, but Jack's enemies are yours, and they shall not go unpunished. May I see him?"
"I fear not, but we will ask at the hospital." And after the exchange of
some further explanations, we took a hansom back to Charing Cross.
At first the sister refused to allow Muriel to see the patient, but she
implored so earnestly that at last she consented, and the distressed
girl in the black coat and hat crept on tiptoe to the bedside.
"He was conscious for a quarter of an hour or so," whispered the nurse
who sat there, "He asked after some lady named Muriel."
The girl at my side burst into low sobbing.
"Tell him," she said, "that Muriel is here--that she has seen him, and
is waiting for him to recover."
We were not allowed to linger there, and on leaving the hospital I took
her back again to Notting Hill, promising to keep her well informed of
Jack's condition. He had returned to consciousness, therefore there was
now a faint hope for his recovery.
Day succeeded day, and although I was not allowed to visit my friend, I
was told that he was very slowly progressing. I idled at the Hotel Cecil
longing daily for news of Elma. Only once did a letter come from her, a
brief, well-written note from which it appeared that she was quite well
and happy, although she longed to be able to go out. The Princess was
very kind indeed to her, and, she added, was making secret arrangements
for her escape across the Russian frontier into Germany.
I knew what that meant. Use was to be made of certain Russian officials
who were secretly allied with the Revolutionists in order to secure her
safe conduct beyond the power of that order of exile of the tyrant de
Plehve. I wrote to her under cover to the Princess, but there had been
no time yet for a reply.
I saw Muriel many times, but never once did she refer to Rannoch or
their sudden departure. Her only thought was of the man she loved.
"I always believed that you were engaged to Mr. Woodroffe," I said one
day, when I called to tell her of Jack's latest bulletin.
"It is true that he asked me to marry him," she responded. "But there
were reasons why I did not accept."
"Reasons connected with his past, eh?"
She smiled, and then said:
"Ah, Mr. Gregg, it is all a strange and very tragic story. I must see
Jack. When do you think they will allow me to go to him?"
I explained that the doctor feared to cause the patient any undue
excitement, but that in two or three days there was hope of her being
allowed to visit him. Several times the police made inquiry of me, but I
could tell them nothing. I could not for the life of me recollect where
I had before seen the face of that man who had passed in the darkness.
One afternoon, ten days after the attempt upon Jack, I was allowed to
sit by his bedside and question him.