The boys were now some little distance off, but I could see they were carrying something which looked like a pail, and Jake was holding a paper which seemed to be crammed full of something.
I watched them disappear in the direction of Hassocks’ farm which bordered on our grounds. The Hassocks were good farmers of whom Jean-Louis heartily approved. They kept their barns and hedges in good order, and Farmer Hassock was constantly in discussion with Jean-Louis about methods of improving the yield of the land.
I returned to my tapestry and after a while went indoors and up to my still room, where I set about preparing the containers for the strawberries, which I wanted to have picked and preserved before I went away.
It must have been an hour later when one of the servants came running up to me.
“Oh, mistress,” she cried, “there’s fire over at Hassocks’. The master has just ridden over. I thought you should know.”
I ran out and saw immediately that one of the barns was blazing. Several of the servants had come hurrying out to join me and we all went together across the gardens into the Hassocks’ field and toward the barn.
There was a lot of commotion. People were running about and shouting to each other; but I saw that they were getting the blaze under control.
One of the maids gave a little cry and then I saw Jean-Louis. He was lying on the ground and some of the men were trying to lift him onto a piece of wood which looked like a shutter.
I dashed over and knelt beside him. He was pale but conscious. He smiled at me wanly.
One of the men said: “Master have broken his leg, we think. We’ll get him to the house … and perhaps you’d send for the doctor.”
I was bewildered. The barn was smouldering black and scarred, with now and then a flame jutting out. The acrid smell of burning made us cough.
“Yes … quickly …” I said. “Get him to the house. One of you go for the doctor … at once.”
One of the men servants dashed off and I turned my attention to Jean-Louis.
“Bit of mischief … looks like,” said one of Farmer Hassock’s laborers. “Looks like someone started a fire in the barn. Master were first in. The roof fell on him and got his leg. … A mercy we was working close by and got him from under.”
“Let’s get him into the house quickly,” I said. “Is he all right on that shutter?”
“Best for him, mistress. Doctor’ll soon put it to rights.”
I noticed that Jean-Louis’s leg was in a strange position and guessed there was a fracture. I was the sort of woman who could be calm in a crisis, suppressing my emotions and fears and putting all my efforts into doing what was necessary.
I knew that we had to set that fracture in some way before moving him and I determined to make an effort to do so, although I was inexperienced of such cases. I sent the maids running into the house for the tallest, straightest walking stick they could find and something we could use for bandages.
They had placed Jean-Louis very carefully in his improvised stretcher and I took his hand. I guessed he was in pain but it was typical of him that he should be as concerned about my anxiety as his own suffering.
“I’m all right,” he whispered. “Nothing … much …”
Then the walking stick, which I could use as a splint, and the torn-up sheets arrived. Carefully my helpers held his leg in place while I very gently bandaged the limb to the stick. Then Jean-Louis was carried into his bed, by which time the doctor had arrived.
It was a broken leg—nothing more—said the doctor. He complimented me on my prompt and right action in setting the bone at once—so saving a simple fracture from becoming a compound one.
I sat by his bed until he slept. Then I remembered those agonizing seconds when I had thought he might be dead and the terrible desolation which had swept over me. Dear Jean-Louis, what should I have done without him? I should be thankful for all the happiness we had together; I must not feel a slight resentment against a fate which had made me barren.
Jean-Louis had scarcely fallen into his sleep when my mother with Sabrina and Dickon arrived.
The two women were very shocked. They wanted to hear all about it.
“To think that Jean-Louis might have hurt himself seriously … and all for Hassock’s barn!”
“Seeing a fire, he just naturally attempted to put it out.”
“He should have called for help,” said Sabrina.
“You may be sure,” I said, “that Jean-Louis did whatever was best.”
“But he might have been killed!”
“He wouldn’t think of that,” said my mother. “He would just go in and try to put the fire out. And if he hadn’t, it could have spread into the fields and Hassock could have lost his corn.”
“Better Hassock’s corn than Jean-Louis,” said Sabrina.
“Is there any idea how it started?” asked my mother.
“They’ll find out,” I said.
She looked at me steadily. “This will put an end to your plans for Eversleigh.”
“Oh … yes. With all this happening I’d forgotten that.”
“Poor old Carl. He’ll be so disappointed.”
“Perhaps you could go in my place, Sabrina,” I said. “Take Dickon.”
“Oh yes,” cried Dickon. “I want to go to Eversleigh.”
“Certainly not,” replied Sabrina. “We shouldn’t be welcome there. Remember, I’m the wife and you’re the son of that damned Jacobite.”
“Well, we shall have to see,” said my mother. “What we have to do now is get Jean-Louis’s leg mended.”
“It will take the usual time,” I pointed out.
“And if this fire was started wantonly … ?”
“Who would?” I asked.
“Someone for mischief, perhaps,” said Sabrina.
While we were talking, two of Farmer Hassock’s laborers came in. They were carrying what looked like the remains of a tin pail and there were some pieces of charred beef in it.
“We know how it started, mistress,” he said. “Someone—who didn’t know much about such things—was trying to cook some meat by making a fire in this old pail; there’s some grid here … that were cooking it on … over the pail, seems like as not.”
“Good heavens!” I cried. “Surely not a tramp?”
“Oh no, mistress. Tramps ’ud have more sense. One who did this ’adn’t much. But that’s how it started. They must have made a fire in the pail and it got out of hand. They got frightened and run for it.”
“What about the pail? Where did it come from? Do you know?”
“No, mistress, but we’m going to find out if us can.”
I had an uneasy night. I slept on the narrow couch in the dressing room adjoining our bedroom with the door open so that I could hear Jean-Louis if he awoke. He lay in our big bed with his leg in splints and I should have been relieved because there was nothing wrong except a broken leg which would heal in due course.
I was rather surprised to feel an acute sense of disappointment because I should have to cancel my visit to Eversleigh … for quite a long time, it seemed, for even when the bone set I doubted whether Jean-Louis would be fit for some time after to make the long and rather exhausting journey.
I had allowed myself to think a great deal about Eversleigh Court and I longed to take a look at Enderby, that house which had played such a big part in our family story. I had not realized how very much I had been looking forward to the adventure; and now it was postponed … for a very long time, I should imagine.