The Heart is Torn by Phyllis Mallett Read Free Book Online

horse and turned it, urging the animal back the way it had come. Beth gazed after him until he disappeared into the shadows. The wind tugged at her, almost overbalancing her with its power. She checked her father again. There didn’t seem to be any bones broken, and no signs of injury anywhere on his head, yet he was still unconscious.
    It seemed an eternity before she heard wheels grating, and then a cart appeared. Tom Tredgett, the groom, jumped down from the cart. He bent over his master and then lifted him carefully and laid him gently in the back of the cart, having thoughtfully strewn the floor of the vehicle with straw before setting out.
    ‘We’d best make good time, Mistress Beth,’ he said. ‘I sent the boy to fetch Doctor Lampard. He should be waiting for us.’
    ‘That was good thinking, Tom. Thank you. I’ll ride in the cart.’
    She tied her horse behind the cart and sprang into the vehicle to crouch beside her father, pulling the straw around him to keep off the worst of the wind. She chafed his hands, for he seemed frozen, but her efforts were of no avail, and she sat in silent fear as the cart lurched steadily homewards.
    Henry Farrell had still not regained his senses by the time they reached Sedge Manor. Nick came to the front door when he heard the cart’s arrival, and helped the stableman carry his father into the library.
    ‘Isn’t the doctor here yet?’ Beth demanded worriedly. ‘I’m frightened, Nick. Father should have come to his senses by now.’
    ‘I’m going to Polgarron anyway,’ Nick replied. ‘I’ll tell the doctor to make haste.’
    He departed and Beth tried to arouse her father but he lay unmoving and very cold. His breathing was slow and slight, and her alarm grew as time passed. The doctor arrived finally, and shook his head after making an examination.
    ‘There’s a big lump on the right side of his head,’ he announced. ‘He must have struck himself in falling, probably hit a rock. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do but wait. He should regain his senses normally, and, if he does, don’t let him go back to sleep again this side of midnight. If he’s still unconscious come morning then send for me again.’
    Beth saw the doctor out, and when she returned to the library her father was stirring, blinking rapidly, a hand to his head.
    ‘Father! How are you feeling? Can you remember what happened?’
    Henry Farrell frowned as he looked around, then sighed and closed his eyes. Beth shook him by the shoulder.
    ‘The doctor said you mustn’t go back to sleep, Father,’ she said desperately. ‘Stay awake, please!’
    But Henry’s eyes remained closed, and he began to snore gently. Beth was filled with consternation. Her father’s face was ashen, and she feared for his life. But she sensed that worse was to come, for, in the space of a few short hours, her life had turned into a nightmare.
     

 
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    Beth spent a long and lonely vigil at her father’s bedside, caught helplessly between hope and despair. But as the hours passed slowly, her hopes dwindled and darker emotions rooted themselves in her mind.
    Cold, tired, and emotionally exhausted, she sat on a hard chair beside her father’s bed until her limbs became cramped and she was compelled to rise and pace the dimly-lit room. Her gaze returned time and again to her father’s strangely-composed face.
    The grandfather clock in the hall was chiming midnight when she heard an insistent knocking at the front door. Arising, she hurried down the staircase, hoping that Nick had returned. But she paused in the act of unbolting the door and demanded the identity of the caller.
    A man replied but Beth could not make out what he said although she recognised the voice as Adam’s. She withdrew the heavy bolts and turned the big key in the lock. Adam came floundering in, buffeted by the raging gale. They had to fight together to close the door, and Beth leaned against it, exhausted, gazing at Adam as he divested