They held a hasty consultation. One man doffed his jersey for Philip"s benefit, and then they hastily covered him with oilskin coat and overalls.
It was now nearly dark, so they ran out a marking buoy for their net, shipped oars, and pulled l.u.s.tily to their remote fishing hamlet, three miles away from the outlet of the river which flowed through Scarsdale.
Arrived there, they carried Philip to the house of one who was the proud owner of a "spare" bed.
And now a fresh difficulty arose. A doctor, and eke a policeman, should be summoned. A messenger was dispatched at once for the nearest medical man--who lived a mile and a half away, but the policeman, who dwelt in the village, was a bird of another color.
These men were poachers, lawbreakers. At various times they had all been fined for illegal fishing. The policeman was of an inquiring turn of mind. He might fail to understand the mystery of the cliff, but he would most certainly appreciate every detail of their presence in that particular part of the sea which lapped its base.
So they smoked, and talked, and tried rough remedies until the doctor arrived.
To him they told the exact truth; he pa.s.sed no comment, examined his patient, cut away the hair from the scalp wound, shook his head over it, bound it up, administered some stimulant, and sat down to await the return of consciousness.
But this was long delayed, and when, at last, Philip opened his eyes, he only rallied sufficiently to sleep.
The doctor promised to come early next day, and left.
Throughout Wednesday and Thursday Philip was partly delirious, waking at times to a vague consciousness of his surroundings, but mostly asking vacantly for "Evelyn."
Often he fought with a person named "Jocky Mason," and explained that "Sir Philip" was not in Yorkshire at all.
The wife of one of his rescuers was a.s.siduous in her attentions. Most fortunately, for these fisherfolk were very poor, that lure spread beneath the cliff inveigled an unprecedented number of salmon, so she could afford to buy eggs and milk in abundance, and the doctor brought such medicines as were needed.
Gradually Philip recovered, until, at nine o"clock, on Thursday night, he came into sudden and full use of his senses.
Then the doctor was sent for urgently; Philip insisted on getting up at once. He was kept in bed almost by main force.
With the doctor"s arrival there was a further change. Here was an educated man, who listened attentively to his patient"s story, and did not instantly conclude that he was raving.
He helped, too, by his advice. It was utterly impossible to send a telegram to London that night. No matter what the sufferings of anxious friends concerning him, they could not be a.s.suaged until the morning.
Yes, he would find money and clothes, accompany him, if need be, on the journey if he were able to travel to-morrow--attend to all things, in fact, in his behalf--for millionaires are scarce birds in secluded moorland districts. But, meanwhile, he must take a drink of milk and beef essence, rest a little while, take this draught, in a small bottle indicated, and sleep.
Sleep was quite essential. He would awake in the morning very much better. The knock on the head was not so serious as it looked at first sight. Probably he would not even feel it again if he wore a soft cap for some days. The broken skin was healing nicely, and concussion of the brain had as many gradations as fever, which ranges from a slight cold to Yellow Jack.
In his case he was suffering from two severe shocks, but the crisis was pa.s.sed, and he was able, even now, to get up if it could serve any possible purpose.
All this, save the promise of help, the doctor said with his tongue in his cheek. He had not the slightest intention of permitting Philip to travel next day. It was out of the question. Better reason with him in the morning, and, if needful, bring his friends to Yorkshire rather than send him to London.
But--the police must be informed at once. It was more than likely the criminals had left the Grange House soon after the attempted murder.
Yet, if Philip did not object, a policeman should be summoned, and the tale told to him. The man should be warned to keep the story out of the papers.
The arrival of the constable at a late hour created consternation in the household. But the doctor knew his people.
"Have no fear, Mrs. Verril," he whispered to the fisherman"s wife, "your husband caught a fine fish when he drew Mr. Anson into his net. He will not need to poach salmon any more."
The doctor sat by Philip"s bed while the policeman made clumsy notes of that eventful Tuesday night"s occurrences.
Then, in his turn, he amazed his hearers.
He described his encounter with another Philip Anson in the highroad, at an hour when the real personage of that name was unquestionably being attended to by the doctor himself in the fisherman"s cottage.
"Ay," he said, in his broad Yorkshire dialect, "he was as like you, sir, as twea peas, on"y, now that I see ye, he wasn"t sike a--sike a gentleman as you, an" he talked wi" a queer catch in his voice. T"uther chap "ud be Jocky Mason, "cordin" te your discription; soa it seems to me "at this "ere Dr. Williams, "oo druv" you frae t" station, must ha"
took yer clothes, an" twisted his feace te luke as mich like you as he could."
The doctor cut short further conversation. He insisted on his patient seeking rest, but in response to Philip"s urgent request, he wrote a long telegram, which he promised would be handed in when the Scarsdale telegraph office opened next morning.
And this was Philip"s message to Evelyn:
"I have suffered detention since Tuesday night at the hands of Jocky Mason, whose name you will recollect, and another man, unknown. I am now cared for by friends, and recovering rapidly from injuries received in a struggle. I return to London to-day." The doctor smiled, but said nothing. "My only fear is that you must have endured terrible uncertainty, if by any chance you imagined I was missing. Tell Abingdon.
"PHILIP ANSON."
And then followed his address, care of the doctor.
"Is that all?" said Anson"s new-found friend.
Philip smiled feebly, for he was very weak.
"There is one matter, small in many ways, but important, too. You might add: "I hope you have not lost Blue Atom by this mischance.""
He sank back exhausted.
It was on the tip of the doctor"s tongue to ask:
"What in the world is a Blue Atom?"
But he forbore. The sleeping potion was taking effect, and he would not r.e.t.a.r.d it. He subsequently wrote a telegram on his own account:
"Mr. Anson is convalescing, but a journey to-day is impossible. A rea.s.suring message from you will save him from impatience, and help his recovery. He has been delirious until last night. Now all he needs is rest and freedom from worry."
His man waited at Scarsdale post office until a reply came next day.
Then he rode with it to the village where Philip was yet sleeping peacefully. Indeed, the clatter of hoofs without aroused him, and he opened his eyes to find the doctor sitting as though he had never quitted his side.
Evelyn"s message must have caused much speculation as to its true significance in the minds of those telegraphic officials through whose hands it pa.s.sed.
It read:
"Am absolutely bewildered. Cannot help feeling sure that news received to-day really comes from you. In that case, who is it who has been wiring repeatedly, in your name, from Station Hotel, York?
Do not know what to think. Am going immediately to Abingdon. Please send more information. Suspense unbearable.
"EVELYN."
If ever there was need for action it was needed now. Anson"s strenuous energy brought forth the full strength of his indomitable will. The pallor fled from his cheeks, the dullness from his eyes.
"Dr. Scarth," he cried, "you must not keep me here in view of that telegram from the woman I love. Believe me, I will be worse, not better, if you force me to remain inactive, chained almost helpless in this village, and miles away from even a telegraph office. Help me now, and you will never regret it. I ask you----"
The doctor cut short his excited outburst.