My heart went out to him in such a flood of feeling that in order to
conceal how fond of him I was and how grateful, I simply had to be
insulting. "You needn't tell me you slept," I growled. "You snored like a whole
sty-full of hogs" (which was a lie). "It's a wonder to me you did not
wake yourself." "Why didn't you shy a boot at my head?" he asked. "I'm awfully sorry,
Pinsent. I can see I kept you awake. You look quite washed out." "Oh! I'm alright, or will be after a hot bath," I replied ungraciously,
and left the room. When I returned he had a bottle of champagne ready for me, as a
pick-me-up; and he was hard at work polishing my boots--all this by
way of apology. I swallowed some wine and allowed myself to unbend. I suggested a ride to work up an appetite for breakfast. He joyously
agreed, so we dressed and went out. A gallop in the park made us as
jolly as a pair of sand boys. We had déjeuner at Verrey's, and then
went to call on Miss Ottley. She was out, however, so I dragged my
charge to an eye specialist in Harley Street. I pretended an eyeache
and had my eyes thoroughly examined. The specialist could find nothing
wrong with them. On the contrary, he congratulated me on a singularly
perfect vision. After that we went to Weldon's club, dawdled there for
a hour and then on the suggestion of Lord William Hurlingham, commonly
known as "Bill," we ran down to Maidenhead for a row on the river. It was a perfect day and we enjoyed ourselves amazingly, so much so
that we lost count of time and were obliged to dine at a Maidenhead
hotel. It thus came about that it was after nine when we strolled
to the station to return to town. There was a considerable crowd of
holiday-makers on the platform, and one party gave us much amusement. These details are important to explain what followed. The party
consisted of half a dozen Jews and as many Jewesses. They were all as
gorgeously attired as if they had been attending a regal audience. But
their conversation, conducted in tones loud enough to provoke general
attention, informed us that they had been spending the day on the
houseboat of a certain well-known nobleman of notorious impecuniousness. Lord Bill, a bit of a wag, made a remark that I did not catch, about
the Jews and their nobleman, which sent Weldon into a convulsion of
laughter. He then turned to me and began to repeat it for my benefit. Just at that moment the train came rushing into the station. Weldon
stood near the edge of the platform with his back to the line, glancing
sideways at the Jews and trying to restrain his mirth. I had bent my
head the better to hear Lord Bill, who was a short man, but my eyes
were on Weldon. Conceive my surprise to observe him stagger backwards
of a sudden, as though he had been struck on the forehead. He uttered a
startled cry and clawed the air with both hands. For a brief second he
tottered at an angle as though he held on to something which supported
him. But next instant, as if carried off his feet by a great rush of
wind, he went back, back--over the edge of the platform, and before I
could move a muscle or utter a word he had fallen and was lying on the
rails under the very wheels of the onrushing engine. Men shouted, women
shrieked. I sprang forward, and hardly aware of the peril would have
leaped upon the line, but that a dozen hands restrained me. It would
have meant infallibly my death as well as Weldon's, for the train was
not more than a dozen feet off. But I was incapable of reasoning at
the moment. I struggled like a madman with my captors and broke away
from them at last--to stand dazedly staring at the engine for some
horrid seconds. It had stopped. But had it----? With a great effort I
dragged myself forward. The edge of the platform was lined with a crowd
of white-faced, silent people. They made room for me. Several railway
officials were stooping over a frightful object lying between the
pavement and the nearest iron rail. One of them shouted for a doctor,
and there was an immediate movement in the crowd. Two or three men set
off through the station at a run. I closed my eyes. I had never been
so shaken in my life. I had never lost my self-control so utterly. The wheels of the engine had completely amputated both poor Weldon's
legs midway between the knee and trunk. There followed a hiatus in my
reckoning. When I came properly to my senses I was hard at work tying
up the arteries, assisted by a medical student who had been a passenger
in the fatal train, and a nurse who had apparently been holiday-making
on the river. I remember how anxious she was to save her pretty
muslin gown from the spouting blood. Presently a surgeon who had been
called, appeared armed with proper instruments. With his aid I hastily
replaced the imperfect tourniquets I had improvised out of kerchiefs
and neckcloths with gutta percha bandages, and we removed poor Weldon
from the station to the villa of a gentleman who had charitably placed
his house at our disposal. From the very first I felt that there was
no hope. Not only had my luckless friend lost his limbs and an immense
quantity of blood, but he had suffered internal injuries and a severe
occipital concussion. Within an hour, in spite of all we could do,
symptoms of lung congestion supervened. When it became manifest that
no human skill could save, I wrote a note to Miss Ottley and sent Lord
Bill to London to escort her to her lover's bedside. After that there was nothing to do but wait. Weldon was deep in a state
of coma. I sat down beside him and watched his poor, wan face. Every
few minutes I administered a stimulant, yet each time asked myself what
use? And were it not better to let him cross the bar in painless sleep
than try to bring him back for a few moments to the agony of suffering
and hopeless separation? Yet I was plagued with the most hateful doubts
and ideas, and so, beyond expression miserable that when two hours had
gone and I marked his pulse failing visibly with the fleeting minutes,
I did that at length which, perhaps, I should have postponed till Miss
Ottley's arrival. But then, it might have been too late. Who knows? He opened his eyes and looked at me. I could hardly see for sudden
womanish tears. "Give me your hand!" he whispered. I did so, and he pressed within
it a hard, bulbous object. "Put in--in your pocket. Keep it safe!" he
gasped. "It will--ah." I obeyed him without glancing at what he had given me. Then I got
up and rang the bell. A great change had come over him. The surgeon
responded to my call. "It is the end!" he said. Weldon broke into a fit of coughing and beat the bedclothes with his
hands. We bent over him, seeking to help and soothe him. The paroxysm
passed and for a moment he seemed to sleep. Soon, however, he gave a
strong shudder and opened his eyes again. "Pinsent--you will avenge
me--you have the clue," he said. It was but a breath, but I heard. Yet I cannot say I comprehended. Indeed, I thought he wandered.