# The Marquis of Lossie/Chapter L

CHAPTER L.
THE DEMONESS AT BAY.
When he reached the yard of the mews the uproar had nothing abated. But when he cried out to Kelpie, through it all came a whinny of appeal, instantly followed by a scream. When he got up to the lanterns he found a group of wrathful men with stable-forks surrounding the poor animal, from whom the blood was streaming before and behind. Fierce as she was, she dared not move, but stood trembling, with the sweat of terror pouring from her. Yet her eye showed that not even terror had cowed her. She was but biding her time. Her master's first impulse was to scatter the men right and left, but on second thoughts, of which he was even then capable, he saw that they might have been driven to apparent brutality in defence of their lives, and besides, he could not tell what Kelpie might do if suddenly released. So he caught her by the broken halter and told them to fall back. They did so, carefully — it seemed unwillingly. But the mare had eyes and ears only for her master. What she had never done before, she nosed him over face and shoulders, trembling all the time. Suddenly one of her tormentors darted forward and gave her a terrible prod in the off hind-quarter. But he paid dearly for it. Ere he could draw back she lashed out and shot him half across the yard with his knee-joint broken. The whole set of them rushed at her.
"Leave her alone," shouted Malcolm, "or I will take her part. Between us we'll do for a dozen of you."
"The devil's in her," said one of them.
"You'll find more of him in that rascal groaning yonder. You had better see to him. He'll never do such a thing again, I fancy. Where is Merton?"
They drew off and went to help their comrade, who lay senseless.
When Malcolm would have led Kelpie in, she stopped suddenly at the stable-door, and started back shuddering as if the memory of what she had endured there overcame her. Every fibre of her trembled. He saw that she must have been pitifully used before she broke loose and got out. But she yielded to his coaxing, and he led her to her stall without difficulty. He wished Lady Clementina herself could have been his witness how she knew her friend and trusted him. Had she seen how the poor bleeding thing rejoiced over him, she could not have doubted that his treatment had been in part at least a success.
Kelpie had many enemies amongst the men of the mews. Merton had gone out for the evening, and they had taken the opportunity of getting into her stable and tormenting her. At length she broke her fastenings: they fled, and she rushed out after them.
They carried the maimed man to the hospital, where his leg was immediately amputated.
Malcolm washed and dried his poor animal, handling her as gently as possible, for she was in a sad plight. It was plain he must not have her here any longer: worse to her at least was sure to follow. He went up, trembling himself now, to Mrs. Merton. She told him she was just running to fetch him when he arrived: she had no idea how ill he was. But he felt all the better for the excitement, and after he had taken a cup of strong tea wrote to Mr. Soutar to provide men on whom he could depend — if possible the same who had taken her there before — to await Kelpie's arrival at Aberdeen. There he must also find suitable housing and attention for her at any expense until further directions, or until, more probably, he should claim her himself. He added many instructions to be given as to her treatment.
Until Merton returned he kept watch, then went back to the chamber of his torture, which, like Kelpie, he shuddered to enter. The cook let him in and gave him his candle, but hardly had he closed his door when a tap came to it, and there stood Rose, his preserver. He could not help feeling embarrassed when he saw her.
"I see you don't trust me," she said.
"I do trust you," he answered. "Will ​you bring me some water? I dare not drink anything that has been standing."
She looked at him with inquiring eyes, nodded her head and went. When she returned he drank the water.
"There! you see I trust you," he said with a laugh. But there are people about who for certain reasons want to get rid of me: will you be on my side?"
"That I will," she answered eagerly.
"I have not got my plans laid yet; but will you meet me somewhere near this tomorrow night? I shall not be at home, perhaps, all day."
She stared at him with great eyes, but agreed at once, and they appointed time and place. He then bade her good-night, and the moment she left him lay down on the bed to think. But he did not trouble himself yet to unravel the plot against him, or determine whether the violence he had suffered had the same origin with the poisoning. Nor was the question merely how to continue to serve his sister without danger to his life; for he had just learned what rendered it absolutely imperative that she should be removed from her present position. Mrs. Merton had told him that Lady Lossie was about to accompany Lady Bellair and Lord Liftore to the Continent. That must not be, whatever means might be necessary to prevent it. Before he went to sleep things had cleared themselves up considerably.
He woke much better, and rose at his usual hour. Kelpie rejoiced him by affording little other sign of the cruelty she had suffered than the angry twitching of her skin when hand or brush approached a wound. The worst fear was that some few white hairs might by-and-by in consequence fleck her spotless black. Having urgently committed her to Merton's care, he mounted Honor and rode to the Aberdeen wharf. There, to his relief, time growing precious, he learned that the same smack in which Kelpie had come was to sail the next morning for Aberdeen. He arranged at once for her passage, and saw, before he left, to every contrivance he could think of for her safety and comfort. He warned the crew concerning her temper, but at the same time prejudiced them in her favor by the argument of a few sovereigns. He then rode to the Chelsea Reach, where the Psyche had now grown to be a feature of the river in the eyes of the dwellers upon its banks. At his whistle Davy tumbled into the dinghy like a round ball over the gunwale, and was rowing for the shore ere his whistle had ceased ringing in Malcolm's own ears. He left him with his horse, went on board and gave various directions to Travers; then took Davy with him, and bought many things at different shops, which he ordered to be delivered to Davy when he should call for them. Having next instructed him to get everything on board as soon as possible, and appointed to meet him at the same place and hour he had arranged with Rose, he went home.
A little anxious lest Florimel might have wanted him, for it was now past the hour at which he usually waited her orders, he learned to his relief that she was gone shopping with Lady Bellair, upon which he set out for the hospital whither they had carried the man Kelpie had so terribly mauled. He went, not merely led by sympathy, but urged by a suspicion also which he desired to verify or remove. On the plea of identification he was permitted to look at him for a moment, but not to speak to him. It was enough: he recognized him at once as the same whose second attack he had foiled in the Regent's Park. He remembered having seen him about the stable, but had never spoken to him. Giving the nurse a sovereign and Mr. Soutar's address, he requested her to let that gentleman know as soon as it was possible to conjecture the time of his leaving. Returning, he gave Merton a hint to keep his eye on the man, and some money to spend for him as he judged best. He then took Kelpie for an airing. To his surprise, she fatigued him so much that when he had put her up again he was glad to go and lie down.
When it came near the time for meeting Rose and Davy he got his things together in the old carpet-bag, which held all he cared for, and carried it with him. As he drew near the spot, he saw Davy already there, keeping a sharp lookout on all sides. Presently Rose appeared, but drew back when she saw Davy. Malcolm went to her. "Rose," he said, "I am going to ask you to do me a great favor. But you cannot except you are able to trust me."
"I do trust you," she answered.
"All I can tell you now is that you must go with that boy to-morrow. Before night you shall know more. Will you do it?"
"I will," answered Rose. "I dearly love a secret."
"I promise to let you understand it if you do just as I tell you."
"I will."
"Be at this very spot, then, to-morrow ​morning at six o'clock. Come here, Davy. This boy will take you where I shall tell him."
She looked from the one to the other. "I'll risk it," she said.
"Put on a clean frock, and take a change of linen with you and your dressing-things. No harm shall come to you."
"I'm not afraid," she answered, but looked as if she would cry.
"Of course you will not tell any one."
"I will not, Mr. MacPhail."
"You are trusting me a great deal, Rose, but I am trusting you too — more than you think. Be off with that bag, Davy, and be here at six to-morrow morning to carry this young woman's for her." Davy vanished.
"Now, Rose," continued Malcolm, "you had better go and make your preparations."
"Is that all, sir?" she said.
"Yes. I shall see you to-morrow. Be brave."
Something in Malcolm's tone and manner seemed to work strangely on the girl. She gazed up at him half frightened, but submissive, and went at once, looking, however, sadly disappointed.
Malcolm had intended to go and tell Mr. Graham of his plans that same night, but he found himself too much exhausted to walk to Camden Town. And thinking over it, he saw that it might be as well if he took the bold measure he contemplated without revealing it to his friend, to whom the knowledge might be the cause of inconvenience. He therefore went home and to bed, that he might be strong for the next day.