Page 47 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

It was awkward to get at the place and they had to chop down and then pull the bush out entirely, which caused an alarming-sounding fall of earth and stones inside the hole.

Once that was out of the way, it was clear enough to see what had happened.

Much activity by rabbits plus the roots of the bushes had loosened the earth, and whatever had formed the ceiling of the space below had collapsed.

It didn’t take long to enlarge the hole, and Giles knelt down carefully and peered in.

The light was failing, and it was hard to see much, but there was a stone-flagged floor below, and he could see a glimpse of stone walls as well.

Definitely some kind of ancient chamber.

His archaeological senses shivered at the thought of exploring what had not been entered in hundreds of years.

Arthur was a huddled shape, and a white face turning upwards. ‘Arthur, it’s Uncle Giles,’ he called. ‘We’re going to get you out. Don’t be afraid. I’m coming down to get you.’

The boy only made a whimpering noise. God knew how long he had been down there. He had probably feared he would never be found. It was not surprising that speech had abandoned him.

They tied the end of the rope to the cart’s axle, with two men to take the strain of the descent. He didn’t want to put too much pull on the axle – it was an old cart, and they’d need it to get the boy home.

Afton said, ‘I’ll go down, if you’ll permit me, my lord.’

‘Why you?’

‘I’m smaller than you, my lord, and lighter to pull up. And,’ he added, when Giles was about to argue, ‘I know a bit about first aid.’

Giles locked eyes with him, then his shoulders went down. ‘I suppose that makes sense. Go on, then.’

Afton lowered himself carefully through the hole, hand over hand down the rope.

There was an anxious wait with nothing but small noises and a murmuring voice down below.

Then he appeared under the hole, face turned up, and called quietly.

‘I think we’ve got a broken leg down here.

I’ll need to splint it before we move him.

Can you find some stout lengths of wood? ’

Giles sent two men to cut some branches, glad they’d brought an axe. ‘How is he otherwise?’ he called down to Afton.

‘Very cold, frightened out of his wits. I’ll have the blankets and the brandy now, please.’

Dusk came on while the quiet endeavours went on around the hole.

In the woods a tawny owl called, and was answered from another stand of trees, the sound haunting on the chilly darkling air.

Biscuit sighed and eased his weight, and blew at Vipsania, who was standing nose-to-nose with him.

Giles threw one of the blankets over the mare’s back.

One of the men offered him a cigarette but he refused.

Then Afton called up that he was ready. The problem was how to get the boy up without hurting him. Afton said the best way was for him to hold the child and for them to be pulled up together.

Axe said, ‘We got six men. And horse power.’

So they unhitched Biscuit and Axe fixed the rope to his collar.

Afton tied his end round himself, clasped the child tightly against his body.

All of them took a place on the rope as if they were about to play tug-of-war, Oscar at Biscuit’s head clicked and led him forward, and slowly but without much difficulty they hauled Afton up.

The trickiest bit was at the top. While the pony and three of the men kept the rope taut, the others knelt by the hole and got hold of Arthur to manoeuvre him out.

A shrill cry told them it had hurt him, but then Axe was rising to his feet with the blanket-wrapped bundle safe in his arms. They lowered Afton again to collect the first-aid box, and then got him out.

‘How did you manage to see down there?’ Giles asked.

‘It seems darker when you’re outside looking in than when you’re inside looking out,’ Afton said, brushing loose soil from his sleeves. ‘The poor little lad’s very shocked, but I don’t think too badly hurt. Someone should go ahead and prepare them at the house, and have the doctor sent for.’

‘Yes,’ said Giles. He put the stable boy up on Vipsania and sent him off at a trot. Afton got into the cart and held Arthur, and the little procession set off again. The path was only visible as a whitish line between what were now the black stretches of the grass.

Dr Welkes had set the leg and administered a draught, and Arthur was sleeping heavily, with hot-water bottles and extra blankets.

‘One or two scratches and bruises. Luckily children tend to fall easily. It was bad luck about the leg, but it could have been much worse – you say the drop was about six feet?’

‘More like ten. Afton couldn’t reach the hole at full stretch. Did the child say anything to you while you were treating him, about what happened?’

‘He didn’t speak at all. Shock, I think.

He must have been very frightened, quite apart from the pain.

The leg should heal normally. Your man did a good job of splinting it.

I wish everyone understood first aid. The times I’ve attended accidents where well-meaning people have made things worse.

What I’m more worried about is that he got so cold, and was without food for so long.

I’m afraid he might take a fever. Better have someone sit up with him tonight. ’

Afton and Mrs Webster went to the nursery after locking up, and found Miss Kettel anxious. ‘He woke screaming a little while ago. Didn’t know where he was – thought he was still in the hole.’

‘He looks feverish,’ Mrs Webster said. The little face was flushed, and he moved restlessly. As they watched, he opened his eyes, glassy with fever, and made a hoarse sound, before closing them again.

‘Dr Welkes left a draught to give him. Can you help me?’ said Miss Kettel.

‘I will,’ said Afton. He raised the boy and Miss Kettel managed to get some of it down the unwilling throat. Then he laid him down again and drew the covers over him.

‘You’re very good at that,’ Mrs Webster remarked.

‘Oh, I like children,’ he said. ‘I used to help with the little ones at the workhouse.’

Miss Kettel threw him a curious glance – no-one but Mrs Webster knew about his origins – but had no thoughts to spare just then. They watched as the child slipped into a heavier sleep. ‘I won’t leave him tonight,’ the governess said, as if to herself.

Arabella appeared in the doorway in her nightgown. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked, in a small, plaintive voice.

‘Go back to bed, Arabella,’ Miss Kettel said automatically.

‘Is he going to die?’

‘No, of course not.’

She stared past the governess at the small shape in the bed. ‘He said nobody wanted him. It’s true, isn’t it?’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Daddy’s dead, and Mother’s gone away. She never wants to see us. One of the boys called him a beggar. We’re both beggars, aren’t we?’

‘Take her back to bed,’ Afton said quietly to Miss Kettel. ‘I’ll stay with the boy.’

When they were gone, he said to Mrs Webster, ‘It’s true. Nobody wants them, poor creatures. I know a bit about not being wanted. How can their mother abandon them like that? I suppose my mother was destitute, but Lady Linda—’

Mrs Webster put a warning hand on his arm. ‘Not our business to wonder. And I have warned you about mentioning the workhouse.’

He sighed angrily. ‘I think I was better off, when all’s said and done, than this scrap. Lord Cordwell, indeed! At least I knew what I was from the start.’

Mrs Webster did not want to discuss imponderables. ‘It’s a nuisance, Lady Stainton taking the nursery staff to London. There’s no-one in the house used to looking after children. Miss Kettel oughtn’t to do it alone.’

‘I’ll sit up with him,’ Afton said. ‘Miss Kettel and I can relieve each other.’ Mrs Webster hesitated, as if wondering whether she should volunteer as well, but he said, ‘You need your sleep. Go along. A valet gets used to sitting up – all those late nights waiting for the master to come home.’

Having taken the earliest train, Richard arrived the next day while the doctor was still upstairs. He was talking to Giles in the hall when Welkes came down.

‘How is he?’ Giles asked.

‘He’s very ill,’ Welkes said. ‘His fever is increasing and he’s not aware of his surroundings. The governess says he woke crying out several times in the night. I’m afraid it may turn into pneumonia. He got so cold and damp down in the cellar that it opened his body to extreme infections.’

‘Infections?’ Giles said. ‘Should he be isolated?’

‘I don’t think he’s a danger to anyone but himself,’ said Welkes.

‘What’s the treatment?’

‘There’s nothing that can be done, except for expert nursing. The governess has no medical training, and she has the little girl to look after.’

‘Should I hire a trained nurse?’

‘You would need a day nurse and a night nurse,’ Welkes said. ‘He must be watched twenty-four hours a day. It will be expensive.’

Giles flushed slightly. ‘The expense does not signify,’ he snapped. ‘Please put it in hand at once.’

‘Very well,’ said Welkes. ‘He’s sleeping now, and I’ve given Miss Kettel another draught for him for later. I’ll come back this afternoon.’

When he had gone, Richard turned to Giles. ‘What was that about?’

‘What?’

‘The irritation at the mention of expense?’

Giles stared at the floor for a moment, then said in a low voice, ‘Afton told me something when he came to wake me this morning. Looking like hell, by the way, having sat up with the boy all night.’

‘Noble fellow! What did he tell you?’

‘That the reason Arthur ran away was that he felt nobody wanted him.’

Richard raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, I suppose he’s right. Our dear sister never had any time for them. It’s very sad, but hardly your fault. You’ve given them a home.’

‘Much against my will. And I don’t have any time for them, either. I’ve been alone in the house since everyone went to London, and forgot entirely that they were upstairs.’