Chapter 8 Red Rose and Tiger Lily by L. T. Meade
ALONE IN THE WOOD
There was a dizzy moment for Kitty when she seemed to hang between heaven and earth, and everything swam in circles before her dazed eyes. Then, with a supreme effort, she managed to clutch the bough, to which she clung with a firmer grasp, and slowly but surely to drag herself up into safety on its broad, firm stem.
"I'm coming, Nora. I'll be down in a minute," she shouted.
She crept along the bough, and soon, much scratched and covered with moss and leaves, her dress torn, her face hotly flushed, she reached the ground and rushed to Nora's side.
Poor Nora had fallen from a height of nearly twenty feet. Her fall had been slightly broken by the rotten bough which had come to the ground with her; but, notwithstanding this fact, she lay now on her back, faint and sick and moaning, as if she were in great pain.
Poor Kitty's repentance was intense.
"Oh, Nora, Nora!" she sobbed, bending over her, "are you hurt badly? Can't you get up? Oh, dear! oh, dear! you do look ill, and it's my fault of course. Why did I have a secret? and why did I tease you? Oh, Nora!" she added, terror in her tone as she noticed the increasing whiteness of Nora's pretty face, "are you in dreadful, shocking pain?"
"I feel sick," said Nora, "and—and faint. Can't you fetch some water. Oh, everything seems miles away. What shall I do?"
"I'll go for mother," said Kitty. "Lie very still, Nonie, darling; you have got an awful shake from that fall, but you'll be all right soon—I'm sure you will; and, oh, here's some water in one of the picnic bottles."
Kitty sprang towards this welcome sight, wetted a handkerchief with part of the contents and put it on Nora's forehead, and then gave her a little to drink.
The cold refreshing water revived the poor girl; but when she attempted to sit up, she fell back groaning and very faint once more.
"You must let me fetch mother," said Kitty. "I won't be a minute. I'll go as if I were a bird. I'll be back in no time, really."
"No; I can't be left alone," said Nora. "It—it's awful. The pain in my back gets worse and worse. Kitty, don't leave me. Kitty, I'm frightened. I'm sorry I was so cross to you."
"And I'm sorry I aggravated you," said Kitty; "but, oh, dear! what's the use of being sorry? That won't mend your poor back. I wish you'd let me get mother."
"No, no; you mustn't leave me."
Nora tried to stretch out one of her hands, but the pain of the least movement was extreme, and she was forced to lie absolutely still, while Kitty wetted her lips at intervals with a few drops of the precious water left in the bottle.
Nora was in too great pain to care anything about the loneliness of their position. She was in too great suffering even to be keenly sorry for her own wrongdoing. The one only desire she had was to keep Kitty by her side. But poor Kitty's little heart was full of absolute terror. She had never seen anyone look so ill as Nora. Her face was white; her lips were blue; she was evidently in severe pain; but, with the pain, there was a strange faintness, which Kitty had never encountered before in the whole course of her ten sturdy years.
Many and many a fall had both Kitty and Boris had in the wild expeditions and daring feats which they performed in each other's company. Kitty knew of the fall which stings; of the fall which shakes you all over, which raises a great bump and causes great soreness of the injured part; she knew of the fall which scratches and even renders you giddy; but she had never before seen the effects of such a serious fall as poor Nora's.
Friar's Wood was a very lonely place, and when, in utter exhaustion and pain, Nora closed her eyes, poor Kitty felt almost as if she were sitting alone in this great solitude with a person who was dead.
Oh, suppose pretty Nora was dead. Pretty Nora, who had been so mocking and full of life only ten minutes ago. If this were the case, to her dying day Kitty would feel that she had killed her by tempting her on to a rotten bough. It was terrible, terrible to be here alone with Nora, who might be going to die. Why could not she slip away and fetch someone to her aid?
Nora had clutched a very tight hold of Kitty's hand when first the little girl had proposed to fetch her mother, but now, in the kind of torpor of pain into which she had sunk, she relaxed the firm grip, and Kitty found that by a very gentle movement she could release her hand altogether.
She did so, and rose slowly to her feet.
Nora felt the movement and spoke.
"Kitty."
"Yes."
"You're not going away?"
"I'm only looking to see if there's anyone coming."
"Well, don't go away."
Nora's voice had sunk to a hoarse whisper, and Kitty's terrors and her certain fears that Nora was about to die became greater than ever.
She looked all around her, to right and left, before and behind.
No one was in sight. Not even the voice of a living creature broke the stillness. The birds were silent, the creatures of the wood seemed to be all asleep, the other members of the picnic had evidently wandered far afield; but, hark, what sound was that? Oh, joy! Who was this coming swiftly through the trees? Kitty's heart gave a bound of rapture, and then, forgetting all Nora's injunctions to keep by her side, she flew with lightning speed towards the figure of a horseman who was riding through the wood.
The man on horseback was Squire Lorrimer himself.
He had promised to join the children in time for dinner, but had not turned up. It was not his custom, however, on any occasion to disappoint his young people, and although late in the day he was now hastening to the scene of revelry.
Kitty's frantic speed in his direction by no means surprised him.
"Well, little woman," he said, pulling up the mare as he spoke. "Shall I give you a mount on Black Bessy's back? and where are all the others? I expected quite a swarm of you to rush forth. Where is Molly, and where is Nora, and where is the beautiful Annie Forest, whom everybody seems to rave about, and mother and Jane Macalister? Are they all hiding and ready to rush out upon me with wild whoops?"
Kitty panted visibly before she replied.
"No, father, it isn't that," she said. "I and Nora are alone, I—get down please, father, won't you?"
"Why, what's the matter with you child?" The Squire hastily dismounted. "Are you hurt, Kit? What a red, excited face."
"No, 'tisn't me, it's Nora. She fell; I think she'll die. It was my fault. The beech tree had a rotten bough, and I crept out on it, as I didn't wish to be caught; and Nora followed me, and the bough broke, and she's lying on her back now and she can't move, and I think she'll die, and they're all away—I don't know where—somewhere else in the wood, and I think she's going to die, and it's my fault."
"There, Kitty, keep your pecker up," said the Squire. "I'm glad I came round this way; it was a lucky chance. Wait a minute until I tie Black Bess to this tree. Where is Nora?"
"Over there, lying on that knoll of grass. I think she'll die."
"Tut, tut, monkey, what do you know about people dying? Give me your hand, and bring me to her."
Oh, the comfort to Kitty of that firm, cool, strong hand of father's—oh, the support of looking into his face. A burden as of black night was lifted from her. She ran in eager accompaniment to his great strides. He was bending over Nora in a minute.
"Now, my poor little maid, what is this?" he asked, dropping on one knee and trying to put his hand under her head as he spoke.
Nora opened her pretty, dark eyes.
"Oh, father, is it you? I'm glad," she said in a faint voice. "I've been naughty, father; I—I'm sorry."
"Well, you can't be more than sorry, can you, Nonie? Don't bother about anything now, but just tell me where you are hurt."
"Oh, it's my back. Oh, don't touch me; it's dreadful!"
Squire Lorrimer's face looked very grave.
"Where did she fall from, Kitty?" he asked.
Kitty pointed to the gash made in the beech-tree by the broken bough.
"Over twenty feet," murmured the Squire to himself. "God help my poor little girl!"
"Look here, Kitty," he said aloud, "Nora is in a good deal of pain; but I hope we'll soon have her easier. We must try and get her home somehow, and it would be a good thing if your mother were here; you had better fetch her. Don't frighten her, Kit, for Nora may not be badly hurt after all; but bring her here as quickly as you can, and Guy, too, and Molly; they are both strong, and have their wits about them. We must contrive a litter of some sort. Now, be quick and find the folks."
"Yes," replied Kitty, who was almost happy again under the influence of her father's encouraging words.
She was soon out of sight, and in less than half an hour Mrs. Lorrimer, Jane Macalister, and every other member of the picnic party, were gathered round the prostrate figure of little Nora.
She was more conscious now, and looked eagerly for one face, the solace of all sick children.
"Let Mummie hold my hand," she said.
Mrs. Lorrimer took it, bent down, and kissed her; Nora smiled as if a load had been lifted from her heart.
A rough litter was presently constructed, and with great difficulty the poor child was lifted into it. The pain of even this slight move, however, caused her to faint completely away.
It was at this juncture that Hester Thornton came forward with a suggestion.
"The Grange is nearly three miles nearer than the Towers," she said; "had not we better bring her there? And had not Guy better ride off at once to Nortonbury for the doctor?"
"That is a good idea," said Mr. Lorrimer. "Guy, mount on Black Bess's back and off with you. Bring Dr. Jervis back with you to the Grange if you can."
The merry little picnic party looked dismal enough as they slowly, and almost in funereal fashion, left the scene of festivity. The strongest of the party had to take turns to carry poor Nora's litter, for she could not endure any less easy movement.
Nan came up to Hester and took her hand.
"I don't know what the meaning of all this is," she said; "but, somehow or other, I think Annie must be at the bottom of it."
"Where is Annie?" queried Hester. "How completely she seems to have lost herself. Oh, how miserable poor little Kitty looks. Come here, Kitty, dear, and tell me all about the accident."
"I cannot," said Kitty. "Don't ask me; it's part of the secret."
"I knew Annie Forest was at the bottom of it," murmured Nan. "Oh, what a horrid, horrid, dreadful ending to the first of my holidays!"