The
carriage swayed and bumped. Those inside exchanged no words. From time
to time Major White shook Uncle Ben, which seemed to be a part of his
strenuous treatment.
At length the carriage stopped on the narrow road, paved with the
little bricks they make at Gouda, that leads from Scheveningen to the
pumping-station on the Dunes. Major White was the first to quit it,
dragging Uncle Ben unceremoniously after him. Then, with his disengaged
hand, he helped the ladies. He screwed his glass tightly into his eye,
and looked round him with a measuring glance.
"This place will be as light as day," he said, "when the moon rises
from behind those trees."
He drew Uncle Ben aside, and talked with him for some time in a low
voice. The man was almost sober now, but so weak that he could not
stand without assistance. Major White was an advocate, it seemed, of
heroic measures. He appeared to be asking many questions, for Uncle Ben
pointed from time to time with an unsteady hand into the darkness. When
his mind, muddled with malgamite and drink, failed to rise to the
occasion, Major White shook him like a sack. After a few minutes'
conversation, Ben broke down completely, and sat against a sand-bank to
weep. Major White left him there, and went towards the ladies.
"Will you tell your man," he said to Mrs. Vansittart, "to drive back to
the junction of the two roads and wait there under the trees?" He
paused, looking dubiously from one to the other.
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