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Chapter Seven. What the Victim said.
 Jill entered the house to hear from the servant that the doctor had not yet returned from his rounds, that Mrs Trevor was also out, and that Miss Betty and Master were looking after the old gentleman in the dining-room.  
Listening outside the door, she caught a sound of and , and, unable to resist the promptings of anxiety and curiosity, turned the handle and entered the room.
 
The victim was seated in the doctor’s big leather arm-chair, looking very and sorry for himself, while Jack and Betty near, alternately offering suggestions for his relief.
 
“If you would lie down on the sofa—”
 
“Or have a cushion to your back—”
 
“Or a cup of tea—”
 
“Or wine—”
 
“Or sal-volatile—”
 
“Shall I bathe your head with eau de Cologne?”
 
“Would you put up your feet on a chair?”
 
The victim had been too much in his own self-pity to take any notice of the separate suggestions, but now their had an irritating effect, for with startling unexpectedness he thrust forward his big, flushed face, and shouted a loud refusal.
 
“No, no, no, no! Do you want to kill me at once? I only want rest and a chance to get my breath again. Tea? Wine? Faugh! I hope I know better than that after the agonies I have had to go through. Sal-volatile! Do you take me for an old woman? Feet up? Ay, young sir, I expect I shall have a longer dose of that position than I care for after this adventure! As if I had not had enough of it already—five weeks on my chair in the summer, three in the spring, two months last winter.”
 
From his own account he was evidently a great sufferer, yet in appearance he was and healthy enough. Jack made a swift , and said politely—
 
“Gout, I suppose, sir? Gout in your feet?”
 
“And what makes you suppose anything of the kind, sir? I don’t carry a label to advertise my that I am aware of!” cried the old gentleman, with an irascibility which convinced his audience that he was on the point of another attack. Then suddenly he looked past his two questioners, saw Jill’s peering face, and went off at another tangent.
 
“Oh ho! What’s this? I saw you outside in the street. What are you doing here, may I ask? Come in for a treat to see the rest of the show?”
 
“It’s my house! I live here!” replied Jill . “I am sorry you are not well. Would you like us to whistle for a cab to take you home? It’s always nicest to be at home when one is ill.”
 
It was all very well for Jack to frown . Jill was inclined to think that the truest wisdom lay in getting the old gentleman out of the way before her father’s return, and so escape with one scolding instead of two. She raised her , and mouthed the dumb question, “Will you tell?” while the victim continued his and lamentations.
 
“Great mistake ever to leave home in these days. Can’t think what I am coming to next. I merely stooped down to pick up a parcel—simplest thing in the world; done it a score of times before—and over I went full on my face. Terrible crash! Terrible crash! now, I expect, in addition to everything else. Just my luck! A , sir—a wreck! And I used to be the strongest man in the . Ah, well, well, that’s all over! I must be content to be on the shelf now.”
 
Betty turned towards the twins with a scrutinising gaze, but they had no eyes for her. A note of real had sounded in the victim’s voice as he his lost strength, and their hearts melted before it. Jack stepped boldly forward to make his .
 
“It was not paralysis, sir. It was—the parcel! We’re sorry,—I’m sorry, but it was only a joke, and we never thought you would fall. No one else fell. We kept pulling it away by the string, you know, a few inches at a time, so that you did not notice, but you had really farther and farther to stretch, and it was that that made you topple over.”
 
He paused, and the old gentleman stopped groaning and stared at him with eyes of crab-like protuberance. The flush deepened on his cheeks, and his white whiskers appeared to with . He was truly an awe-inspiring object.
 
“It was your doing, was it? You pulled away the parcel, did you? I ‘toppled over,’ did I?” he repeated with awful deliberation. That was the before the storm, and then it broke in all its fury, and roared over their heads, so that they and trembled before it.
 
The victim went back to his earliest childhood, and thanked that he at least had known how to behave himself, and desist from silly, , ridiculous, tom-fool tricks, which would disgrace a monkey on an organ. He projected himself into the future, and ruin and destruction for a race which produced popinjays and clowns. He announced his intention of dying that very night, so that the crime which his hearers had committed might be duly , and in the same breath would have them to know that he was not the sort of man to be by the tricks of unmannerly , and that General Terence Digby was match for a hundred such as they, gout or no gout. Gout, indeed! Toppled, forsooth! The world was coming to a pretty pass! Was it part of the plot, might he ask, to cajole him into the house and poison him with their sal-volatile tea? This was a case for the police!
 
Betty gave a little of dismay, but the twins exchanged glances of . They liked to hear a thing done really well, and the General’s denunciation was a triumph of its kind. But when asked if he were not ashamed of himself, Jack showed the courage of his opinion.
 
“Sorry!” he declared. “I said so before, sir, but not ashamed. We wouldn’t have been to hurt you, and I’ll apologise as much as you like, but we were doing nothing wrong. It was only a joke.”
 
“Joke!” screamed the old gentleman. “Joke!” He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, and gasped and spluttered in disgust. “Is that what you call a joke? I don’t know what this country is coming to! Have you nothing better to do with your time, young sir, than to prowl about the streets playing monkey tricks on innocent passers-by? I am sorry for you if that is your best idea of .”
 
“Boys will be boys!” said Jack, in his , sententious fashion. “We can only be young once, sir, so we might as well make the most of it while we can.”
 
“Besides, we weren’t prowling about in the street!” cried Jill, suddenly bursting into the conversation, her determination to keep silent melting away before what she was pleased to consider a slight on her dignity. “Mother wouldn’t allow such a thing. The Square is private property. We have a key, and she knows we are safe when we are there.”
 
“But, by Jove, other people are not! You manage to get into though you are railed up!” cried the victim, and a sort of passed over his face, as of a smile violently suppressed. He glared at Jill, from her to Betty, from Betty to Jack, and then let his glance wander round the room—the big, handsome apartment so filled with the furniture of a smaller house. The sideboard looked poor and in the designed for one twice the size; the few pictures failed to hide the marks of the places where the last had hung his more generous supply. The carpet covered only two-thirds of the floor, and was out by . To the most unobservant eye it must have been evident that the owner of this house was a man whose means were so limited that the strictest economy was necessary in the management of his household.
 
“Ha—ho—hum!” coughed the old gentleman suddenly. “Have you ever heard of such a thing as the Employers’ Liability Act?”
 
The girls shook their heads. Jack had ideas on the subject.
 
“It’s a sort of—er—of insurance, isn’t it? If a workman fellow drops a sack on your head, the other fellow has to pay up, so he pays the insurance fellow to do it for him. That’s the sort of thing, isn’t it, sir?”
 
“That is the sort of thing, sir, expressed with your natural of diction. Does your father contract with an ‘insurance fellow,’ may I ask?”
 
“No—why should he? He doesn’t employ any workmen.”
 
“He is responsible for his children, however, who are a hundred times more dangerous. How will he like it, do you think, when I send him in a bill for my expenses, and the loss of time caused by this accident? I put a high price on my time, let me tell you. It is of value to other people besides myself—of value to my country, sir, I am proud to think! If I am laid aside by the hand of Providence, that is one matter. It’s a very different thing when it is done of intent. What should you say to a hundred pounds a week, eh, what?”
 
Jill gave a of dismay. Betty set her lips tight, and tried to look composed and , but she felt a trifle sick. She could hardly bring herself to believe that such a would be legally possible, yet the old gentleman had distinctly said that such a law existed, and Jack appeared to know something about it. Beneath his air of she could see that the boy shared in her own nervousness, and a wild idea of flinging herself at the stranger’s feet and his was beginning to take shape in her brain, when a sound from without attracted the attention of all.
 
It was the click of the doctor’s key in the , and a moment later he entered the hall, and paused, as his custom was, to read the messages which had been pencilled for him on a . Then came the of Mary’s skirt, a few low-toned words, and the sound of quick steps approaching the dining-room door. It was a thrilling moment!
 
There sat the victim, scarlet-faced, glassy-eyed, more fiercely than ever, as if in of the coming conflict. There in a row stood the three young people, shivering in their respective shoes, for was it not the greatest of offences to “worry father,” and involve him in needless expenses?
 
“Sorry to have been out, sir,” cried the doctor, entering the room, and rubbing his hands in brisk, professional manner. “My maid tells me that you have had a fall. I hope my young people have looked after you in my absence. Now, would you prefer to have a talk here, or shall I assist you into my consulting-room?”
 
The critical moment had arrived, and with it came a rapturous surprise, for even as the young people gazed, the anger faded out of the stranger’s face, the gleaming eyes , the lips relaxed, and, as by the waving of a magician’s wand, he was suddenly changed into a , old gentleman, who would never to such an as a fit of temper.
 
“Thank you, sir, thank you, sir! I fancy I am pretty nearly my own man again. Your son very kindly brought me in, and gave me the opportunity of resting, which was really all I required. And your daughter offered me . I—ah—happened to slip,”—the protruding eyes met Jack’s with a , which, if such a thing could be imagined, was almost a !—“to slip on the pavement, and a man of my weight feels these things more than a boy. Gout, sir, gout in the feet! Your good son has already diagnosed my complaint, and, no doubt, you will be equally ready. Now, if you could make up a which would give me back my powers of twenty years ago—”
 
Dr Trevor laughed, while Betty, Jack, and Jill mentally a monument, and placed the figure of the victim upon it in and affection.
 
“I am afraid I can hardly do that, but if you will allow me I will give you a which will steady your nerves after the shock. How did you come to fall? Was the pavement slippery with the mud?”
 
“The London pavements, sir,” answered the old man , “the London pavements are a disgrace to ! Don’t tell me that I am crazy. Don’t tell me it is the best-paved city in the world. I’ve heard that statement before, and I stick to my own opinion. My opinion, I trust, sir, is worth as much as any other man’s. It is a wonder there are not many more accidents. I fell, sir, I would have you know, in consequence of my own selfish and instincts, and I attach no blame to anyone but myself!”
 
“Ah!” exclaimed the doctor significantly. He glanced towards his son, caught his air of , and hesitated between amusement and indignation. “Jack—at your old parcel trick again?”
 
“Boys will be boys, sir, as I have just been reminded. Perhaps we can remember the day when we also— But what about that draught? Five minutes in your consulting-room, if you please, and then Master Jack can kindly get me a cab. I will not trust myself in the streets again to-day.”
 
Another twinkling glance at the twins, and the old gentleman raised himself slowly from his chair, and followed the doctor from the room, leaving the three young people staring at each other breathlessly.
 
“This is a day!” cried Jill, with a of delight. “We’ve made two new friends! The pretty lady says she is coming to call, and we must go to tea, and then this jolly old man... What a brick he is! He didn’t mind scolding us himself, but he wouldn’t let anyone else do it. Jack, do be nice when you get the cab, and offer to see him home. Tell him how grateful we are. Hint like anything to make him invite us there!”
 
“Trust me for that!” cried Jack.
 

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