CHAPTER XXII. THE HUNTERS
To the amazement of them all, there entered a tall gentleman in afull-bottomed wig, with a long, pale face, a resolute mouth, and a pairof eyes that were keen, yet kindly. Close upon the heels of the secondsecretary came Mr. Green. Humphries withdrew, and closed the door.
Mr. Templeton made her ladyship a low bow.
"Madam," said he very gravely, "I offer your ladyship--and you, mylord--my profoundest condolence in the bereavement you have suffered,and my scarcely less profound excuses for this intrusion upon yourgrief."
Mr. Templeton may or may not have reflected that the grief upon which hedeplored his intrusion was none so apparent.
"I had not ventured to do so," he continued, "but that your lordshipseemed to invite my presence."
"Invited it, sir?" questioned Rotherby with deference. "I shouldscarcely have presumed so far as to invite it."
"Not directly, perhaps," returned the second secretary. His was a deep,rich voice, and he spoke with great deliberateness, as if consideringwell each word before allowing it utterance. "Not directly, perhaps; butin view of your message to Lord Carteret, his lordship has desired meto come in person to inquire into this matter for him, before proceedingfarther. This fellow," indicating Green, "brought information from youthat a Jacobite--an agent of James Stuart--is being detained here,and that your lordship has a communication to make to the secretary ofstate."
Rotherby bowed his assent. "All I desired that Mr. Green should domeanwhile," said he, "was to procure a warrant for this man's arrest. Myrevelations would have followed that. Has he the warrant?"
"Your lordship may not be aware," said Mr. Templeton, with an increasedprecision of diction, "that of late so many plots have been disclosedand have proved in the end to be no plots at all, that his lordship hasresolved to proceed now with the extremest caution. For it is not helddesirable by his majesty that publicity should be given to such mattersuntil there can be no doubt that they are susceptible to proof. Talk ofthem is disturbing to the public quiet, and there is already disturbanceenough, as it unfortunately happens. Therefore, it is deemed expedientthat we should make quite sure of our ground before proceeding toarrests."
"But this plot is no sham plot," cried Rotherby, with the faintest showof heat, out of patience with the other's deliberateness. "It is a veryreal danger, as I can prove to his lordship."
"It is for the purpose of ascertaining that fact," resumed the secondsecretary, entirely unruffled, "for the purpose of ascertaining itbefore taking any steps that would seem to acknowledge it, that myLord Carteret has desired me to wait upon you--that you may place me inpossession of the circumstances that have come to your knowledge."
Rotherby's countenance betrayed his growing impatience. "Why, for thatmatter, it has come to my knowledge that a plot is being hatched by thefriends of the Stuart, and that a rising is being prepared, the presentmoment being considered auspicious, while the people's confidence in thegovernment is shaken by the late South Sea Company disaster."
Mr. Templeton wagged his head gently. "That, sir--if you will permit theobservation--is the preface of all the disclosures that have lately beenmade to us. The consolation, sir, for his majesty's friends, has beenthat in no case did the subsequent matter make that preface good."
"It is in that particular, then, that my disclosures shall differfrom those others," said Rotherby, in a tone that caused Mr. Templetonafterwards to describe him as "a damned hot fellow."
"You have evidence?"
"Documentary evidence. A letter from the Pretender himself amongst it."
A becoming gravity overspread Mr. Templeton's clear-cut face. "Thatwould be indeed regrettable," said he. It was plain that whatever thesecond secretary might display when the plot was disclosed to him, hewould display none of that satisfaction upon which Rotherby had counted."To whom, sir, let me ask, is this letter indited?"
"To my late father," answered his lordship.
Mr. Templeton made an exclamation, whose significance was not quiteclear.
"I have discovered it since his death," continued Rotherby. "I was butin time to wrest it from the hands of that spy of the Pretender's, whowas in the act of destroying it when I caught him. My devotion to hismajesty made my course clear, sir--and I desired Mr. Green to procure awarrant for this traitor's arrest."
"Sir," said Mr. Templeton, regarding him with an eye in whichastonishment was blent with admiration, "this is very loyal in you--veryloyal under the--ah--peculiar circumstances of the affair. I do notthink that his majesty's government, considering to whom this letter wasaddressed, could have censured you even had you suppressed it. You haveconducted yourself, my lord--if I may venture upon a criticism of yourlordship's conduct--with a patriotism worthy of the best models ofancient Rome. And I am assured that his majesty's government will not beremiss in signifying appreciation of this very lofty loyalty of yours."
Lord Rotherby bowed low, in acknowledgment of the compliment. Herladyship concealed a cynical smile under cover of her fan. Mr.Caryll--standing in the background beside Hortensia's chair--smiled,too, and poor Hortensia, detecting his smile, sought to take comfort init.
"My son," interposed the countess, "is, I am sure, gratified to hear youso commend his conduct."
Mr. Templeton bowed to her with a great politeness. "I should be astone, ma'am, did I not signify my--ah--appreciation of it."
"There is a little more to follow, sir," put in Mr. Caryll, in thatquiet manner of his. "I think you will find it blunt the edge of hislordship's lofty loyalty--cause it to savor less like the patriotism ofRome, and more like that of Israel."
Mr. Templeton turned upon him a face of cold displeasure. He would havespoken, but that whilst he was seeking words of a becoming gravity,Rotherby forestalled him.
"Sir," he exclaimed, "what I did, I did though my ruin must havefollowed. I know what this traitor has in mind. He imagines I have abargain to make. But you must see, sir, that in no sense is it so, for,having already surrendered the facts, it is too late now to attemptto sell them. I am ready to yield up the letters that I have found. Noconsideration could induce me to do other; and yet, sir, I venture tohope that in return, the government will be pleased to see that I havesome claim upon my country's recognition for the signal service I amrendering her--and in rendering which I make a holocaust of my father'shonor."
"Surely, surely, sir," murmured Mr. Templeton, but his countenance toldof a lessening enthusiasm in his lordship's Roman patriotism. "LordCarteret, I am sure, would never permit so much--ah--devotion to hismajesty to go unrewarded."
"I only ask, sir--and I ask it for the sake of my father's name, whichstands in unavoidable danger of being smirched--that no further shamebe heaped upon it than that which must result from the horror with whichthe discovery of this plot will inspire all right-thinking subjects."
Mr. Caryll smiled and nodded. He judged in a detached spirit--a merespectator at a play--and he was forced to admit to himself that it wassubtly done of his brother, and showed an astuteness in this thing, atleast, of which he had never supposed him capable.
"There is, sir," Rotherby proceeded, "the matter of my father's dealingswith the South Sea Company. He is no longer alive to defend himself fromthe accusations--from the impeachment which has been levelled againsthim by our enemy, the Duke of Wharton. Therefore, it might be possibleto make it appear as if his dealings were--ah--not--ah--quite such asshould befit an upright gentleman. There is that, and there is thisgreater matter against him. Between the two, I should never again beable to look my fellow-countrymen in the face. Yet this is the moreimportant since the safety of the kingdom is involved; whilst the otheris but a personal affair, and trivial by comparison.
"I will beg, sir, that out of consideration for my disclosing thisdastardly conspiracy--which I cannot do without disclosing myfather's misguided share in it--I will implore, sir, that out of thatconsideration, Lord Carteret will see fit to dispose that the South SeaCompany affair is allowe
d to be forgotten. It has already been paid forby my father with his life."
Mr. Templeton looked at the young man before him with eyes of realcommiseration. He was entirely duped, and in his heart he regretted thatfor a moment he could have doubted Rotherby's integrity of purpose.
"Sir," he said, "I offer you my sympathy--my profoundest sympathy; andyou, my lady.
"As for this South Sea Company affair, well--I am empowered by LordCarteret to treat only of the other matter, and to issue or not awarrant for the apprehension of the person you are detaining, afterI have investigated the grounds upon which his arrest is urged.Nevertheless, sir, I think I can say--indeed, I think I canpromise--that in consideration of your readiness to deliver up theseletters, and provided their nature is as serious as you represent, andalso in consideration of this, your most signal proof of loyalty, LordCarteret will not wish to increase the load which already you have tobear."
"Oh, sir!" cried Rotherby in the deepest emotion, "I have no words inwhich to express my thanks."
"Nor I," put in Mr. Caryll, "words in which to express my admiration.A most excellent performance, Rotherby. I had not credited you with somuch ability."
Mr. Templeton frowned upon him again. "Ye betray a singular callousness,sir," said he.
"Nay, sir; not callousness. Merely the ease that springs from a tranquilconscience."
Her ladyship glanced across at him, and sneered audibly. "You hear thepoisonous traitor, sir. He glories in a tranquil conscience, in spite ofthis murderous matter to which he stood committed."
Rotherby turned aside to take the letters from the desk. He thrust theminto Mr. Templeton's hands. "Here, sir, is a letter from King James tomy father, and here is a letter from my father to King James. From theircontents, you will gather how far advanced are matters, what devilriesare being hatched here in his majesty's dominions."
Mr. Templeton received them, and crossed to the window that he mightexamine them. His countenance lengthened. Rotherby took his stand besidehis mother's chair, both observing Mr. Caryll, who, in his turn, wasobserving Mr. Templeton, a faint smile playing round the corners of hismouth. Once they saw him stoop and whisper something in Hortensia's ear,and they caught the upward glance of her eyes, half fear, half question.
Mr. Green, by the door, stood turning his hat in his hands, furtivelywatching everybody, whilst drawing no attention to himself--a matter inwhich much practice had made him perfect.
At last Templeton turned, folding the letters. "This is very grave, mylord," said he, "and my Lord Carteret will no doubt desire to expressin person his gratitude and his deep sense of the service you have donehim. I think you may confidently expect to find him as generous as youhope."
He pocketed the letters, and raised a hand to point at Mr. Caryll. "Thisman?" he inquired laconically.
"Is a spy of King James's. He is the messenger who bore my father thatletter from the Pretender, and he would no doubt have carried back theanswer had my father lived."
Mr. Templeton drew a paper from his pocket, and crossed to the desk. Hesat down, and took up a quill. "You can prove this, of course?" he said,testing the point of his quill upon his thumb-nail.
"Abundantly," was the ready answer. "My mother can bear witness to thefact that 'twas he brought the Pretender's letter, and there is no lackof corroboration. Enough, I think, would be afforded by the assaultmade by this rogue upon Mr. Green, of which, no doubt, you are alreadyinformed, sir. His object--this proved object--was to possess himself ofthose papers that he might destroy them. I but caught him in time, asmy servants can bear witness, as they can also bear witness to thecircumstance that we were compelled to force an entrance here, and touse force to him to obtain the letters from him."
Mr. Templeton nodded. "'Tis a clear case, then," said he, and dipped hispen.
"And yet," put in Mr. Caryll, in an indolent, musing voice, "it might bemade to look as clear another way."
Mr. Templeton scowled at him. "The opportunity shall be afforded you,"said he. "Meanwhile--what is your name?"
Mr. Caryll looked whimsically at the secretary a moment; then flung hisbomb. "I am Justin Caryll, Sixth Earl of Ostermore, and your very humbleservant, Mr. Secretary."
The effect was ludicrous--from Mr. Caryll's point of view--and yet itwas disappointing. Five pairs of dilating eyes confronted him, fivegaping mouths. Then her ladyship broke into a laugh.
"The creature's mad--I've long suspected it." And she meant to be takenliterally; his many whimsicalities were explained to her at last. Hewas, indeed, half-witted, as he now proved.
Mr. Templeton, recovering, smote the table angrily. He thought he hadgood reason to lose his self-control on this occasion, though it was amatter of pride with him that he could always preserve an unruffledcalm under the most trying circumstances. "What is your name, sir?" hedemanded again.
"You are hard of hearing, sir, I think. I am Lord Ostermore. Set downthat name in the warrant if you are determined to be bubbled by thatfellow there and made to look foolish afterwards with my Lord Carteret."
Mr. Templeton sat back in his chair, frowning; but more from utterbewilderment now than anger.
"Perhaps," said Mr. Caryll, "if I were to explain, it would help youto see the imposture that is being practiced upon you. As for theallegations that have been made against me--that I am a Jacobite spy andan agent of the Pretender's--" He shrugged, and waved an airy hand. "Iscarce think there will remain the need for me to deny them when youhave heard the rest."
Rotherby took a step forward, his face purple, his hands clenched. Herladyship thrust out a bony claw, clutched at his sleeve, and drew himback and into the chair beside her. "Pho! Charles," she said; "give thefool rope, and he'll hang himself, never doubt it--the poor, witlesscreature."
Mr. Caryll sauntered over to the secretaire, and leaned an elbow on thetop of it, facing all in the room.
"I admit, Mr. Secretary," said he, "that I had occasion to assaultMr. Green, to the end that I might possess myself of the papers he wasseeking in this desk."
"Why, then--" began Mr. Templeton.
"Patience, sir! I admit so much, but I admit no more. I do not, forinstance, admit that the object--the object itself--of my search wassuch as has been represented."
"What then? What else?" growled Rotherby.
"Ay, sir--what else?" quoth Mr. Templeton.
"Sir," said Mr. Caryll, with a sorrowful shake of, the head, "I havealready startled you, it seems, by one statement. I beg that you willprepare yourself to be startled by another." Then he abruptly droppedhis languor. "I should think twice, sir," he advised, "before signingthat warrant, were I in your place, to do so would be to render yourselfthe tool of those who are plotting my ruin, and ready to bear falsewitness that they may accomplish it. I refer," and he waved a handtowards the countess and his brother, "to the late Lord Ostermore'smistress and his natural son, there."
In their utter stupefaction at the unexpectedness and seeming wildnessof the statement, neither mother nor son could find a word to say. Nomore could Mr. Templeton for a moment. Then, suddenly, wrathfully: "Whatare you saying, sir?" he roared.
"The truth, sir."
"The truth?" echoed the secretary.
"Ay, sir--the truth. Have ye never heard of it?"
Mr. Templeton sat back again. "I begin to think," said he, surveyingthrough narrowing eyes the slender graceful figure before him, "that herladyship is right that you are mad; unless--unless you are mad of thesame madness that beset Ulysses. You remember?"
"Let us have done," cried Rotherby in a burst of anger, leaping to hisfeet. "Let us have done, I say! Are we to waste the day upon this Tomo' Bedlam? Write him down as Caryll--Justin Caryll--'tis the name he'sknown by; and let Green see to the rest."
Mr. Templeton made an impatient sound, and poised his pen.
"Ye are not to suppose, sir," Mr. Caryll stayed him, "that I cannotsupport my statements. I have by me proofs--irrefragable proofs of whatI say."
"Proofs?" The
word seemed to come from, every member of that littleassembly--if we except Mr. Green, whose face was beginning to betrayhis uneasiness. He was not so ready as the others to believe, that Mr.Caryll was mad. For him, the situation asked some other explanation.
"Ay--proofs," said Mr. Caryll. He had drawn the case from his pocketagain. From this he took the birth-certificate, and placed it before Mr.Templeton, "Will you glance at that, sir--to begin, with?--"
Mr. Templeton complied. His face became more and more grave. He lookedat Mr. Caryll; then at Rotherby, who was scowling, and at her ladyship,who was breathing hard. His glance returned to Mr. Caryll.
"You are the person designated here?" he inquired.
"As I can abundantly prove," said Mr. Caryll. "I have no lack of friendsin London who will bear witness to that much."
"Yet," said Mr. Templeton, frowning, perplexed, "this does not makeyou what you claim to be. Rather does it show you to be his latelordship's--"
"There's more to come," said Mr. Caryll, and placed another documentbefore the secretary. It was an extract from the register of St. Etienneof Maligny, relating to his mother's death.
"Do you know, sir, in what year this lady went through a ceremony ofmarriage with my father--the late Lord Ostermore? It was in 1690, Ithink, as the lady will no doubt confirm."
"To what purpose, this?" quoth Mr. Templeton.
"The purpose will be presently apparent. Observe that date," said Mr.Caryll, and he pointed to the document in Mr. Templeton's hand.
Mr. Templeton read the date aloud--"1692"--and then the name of thedeceased--"Antoinette de Beaulieu de Maligny. What of it?" he demanded.
"You will understand that when I show you the paper I took from thisdesk, the paper that I obtained as a consequence of my violence to Mr.Green. I think you will consider, sir, that if ever the end justifiedthe means, it did so in this case. Here was something very differentfrom the paltry matter of treason that is alleged against me."
And he passed the secretary a third paper.
Over Mr. Templeton's shoulder, Rotherby and his mother, who--drawn bythe overpowering excitement that was mastering them--had approachedin silence, were examining the document with wide-open, startled eyes,fearing by very instinct, without yet apprehending the true nature ofthe revelation that was to come.
"God!" shrieked her ladyship, who took in the meaning of this thingbefore Rotherby had begun to suspect it. "'Tis a forgery!"
"That were idle, when the original entry in the register is to be seenin, the Church of St. Antoine, madam," answered Mr. Caryll. "I rescuedthat document, together with some letters which my mother wrote myfather when first he returned to England--and which are superfluousnow--from a secret drawer in that desk, an hour ago."
"But what is it?" inquired Rotherby huskily. "What is it?"
"It is the certificate of the marriage of my father, the late LordOstermore, and my mother, Antoinette de Maligny, at the Church of St.Antoine in Paris, in the year 1689." He turned to Mr. Templeton. "Youapprehend the matter, sir?" he demanded, and recapitulated. "In 1689they were married; in 1692 she died; yet in 1690 his lordship wentthrough a form of marriage with Mistress Sylvia Etheridge, there."
Mr. Templeton nodded very gravely, his eyes upon the document beforehim, that they might avoid meeting at that moment the eyes of the womanwhom the world had always known as the Countess of Ostermore.
"Fortunate is it for me," said Mr. Caryll, "that I should have possessedmyself of these proofs in time. Does it need more to show how urgentmight be the need for my suppression--how little faith can be attachedto an accusation levelled against me from such a quarter?"
"By God--" began Rotherby, but his mother clutched his wrist.
"Be still, fool!" she hissed in his ear. She had need to keep her witsabout her, to think, to weigh each word that she might utter. Anabyss had opened in her path; a false step, and she and her son wereirrevocably lost--sent headlong to destruction. Rotherby, alreadyreduced to the last stage of fear, was obedient as he had never been,and fell silent instantly.
Mr. Templeton folded the papers, rose, and proffered them to theirowner. "Have you any means of proving that this was the document yousought?" he inquired.
"I can prove that it was the document he found." It was Hortensia whospoke; she had advanced to her lover's side, and she controlled heramazement to bear witness for him. "I was present in this room when hewent through that desk, as all in the house know; and I can swear to hishaving found that paper in it."
Mr. Templeton bowed. "My lord," he said to Caryll, "your contentionsappear clear. It is a matter in which I fear I can go no further; nordo I now think that the secretary of state would approve of my issuinga warrant upon such testimony as we have received. The matter is one forLord Carteret himself."
"I shall do myself the honor of waiting upon his lordship within thehour," said the new Lord Ostermore. "As for the letter which it isalleged I brought from France--from the Pretender,"--he was smiling now,a regretful, deprecatory smile, "it is a fortunate circumstance that,being suspected by that very man Green, who stands yonder, I wassubjected, upon my arrival in England, to a thorough search atMaidstone--a search, it goes without saying, that yielded nothing. I wasangry at the time, at the indignity I was forced to endure. We littleknow what the future may hold. And to-day I am thankful to have thatevidence to rebut this charge."
"Your lordship is indeed to be congratulated," Mr. Templeton agreed."You are thus in a position to clear yourself of even a shadow ofsuspicion."
"You fool!" cried she who until that hour had been Countess ofOstermore, turning fiercely upon Mr. Templeton. "You fool!"
"Madam, this is not seemly," cried the second secretary, with awkwarddignity.
"Seemly, idiot?" she stormed at him. "I swear, as I've a soul to besaved, that in spite of all this, I know that man to be a traitor anda Jacobite--that it was the letter from the king he sought, whatever hemay pretend to have found."
Mr. Templeton looked at her in sorrow, for all that in her overwroughtcondition she insulted him. "Madam, you might swear and swear, and yetno one would believe you in the face of the facts that have come tolight."
"Do you believe me?" she demanded angrily.
"My beliefs can matter nothing," he compromised, and made her avaledictory bow. "Your servant, ma'am," said he, from force of habit.He nodded to Rotherby, took up his hat and cane, and strode to the door,which Mr. Green had made haste to open for him. From the threshold hebowed to Mr. Caryll. "My lord," said he, "I shall go straight to LordCarteret. He will stay for you till you come."
"I shall not keep his lordship waiting," answered Caryll, and bowed inhis turn.
The second secretary went out. Mr. Green hesitated a moment, thenabruptly followed him. The game was ended here; it was played and lost,he saw, and what should such as Mr. Green be doing on the losing side?
CHAPTER XXIII. THE LION
The game was played and lost. All realized it, and none so keenly asHortensia, who found it in her gentle heart to pity the woman who hadnever shown her a kindness.
She set a hand upon her lover's arm. "What will you do, Justin?" sheinquired in tones that seemed to plead for mercy for those others; forshe had not paused to think--as another might have thought--that therewas no mercy he could show them.
Rotherby and his mother stood hand in hand; it was the woman who hadclutched at her son for comfort and support in this bitter hour ofretribution, this hour of the recoil upon themselves of all the evilthey had plotted.
Mr. Caryll considered them a moment, his face a mask, his mind entirelydetached. They interested him profoundly. This subjugation of twonatures that in themselves were arrogant and cruel was a process veryengrossing to observe. He tried to conjecture what they felt, whatthoughts they might be harboring. And it seemed to him that a sort ofparalysis had fallen on their wits. They were stunned under the shockof the blow he had dealt them. Anon there would be railings and tospare--against him, against themselves, against the
dead man abovestairs, against Fate, and more besides. For the present there was thishorrid, almost vacuous calm.
Presently the woman stirred. Instinct--the instinct of the strickenbeast to creep to hiding--moved her, while reason was still bound inlethargy. She moved to step, drawing at her son's hand. "Come, Charles,"she said, in a low, hoarse voice. "Come!"
The touch and the speech awakened him to life. "No!" he cried harshly,and shook his hand free of hers. "It ends not thus."
He looked almost as he would fling himself upon his brother, his figureerect now, defiant and menacing; his face ashen, his eyes wild. "It endsnot thus!" he repeated, and his voice rang sinister.
"No," Mr. Caryll agreed quietly. "It ends not thus."
He looked sadly from son to mother. "It had not even begun thus, butthat you would have it so. You would have it. I sought to move you tomercy. I reminded you, my brother, of the tie that bound us, and I wouldhave turned you from fratricide, I would have saved you from the crimeyou meditated--for it was a crime."
"Fratricide!" exclaimed Rotherby, and laughed angrily. "Fratricide!" Itwas as if he threatened it.
But Mr. Caryll continued to regard him sorrowfully. From his soulhe pitied him; pitied them both--not because of their condition, butbecause of the soullessness behind it all. To him it was truly tragic,tragic beyond anything that he had ever known.
"You said some fine things, sir, to Mr. Templeton of your regard foryour father's memory," said Mr. Caryll. "You expressed some loftysentiments of filial piety, which almost sounded true--which soundedtrue, indeed, to Mr. Templeton. It was out of interest for your fatherthat you pleaded for the suppression of his dealings with the South SeaCompany; not for a moment did you consider yourself or the profit youshould make from such suppression."
"Why this?" demanded the mother fiercely. "Do you rally us? Do you turnthe sword in the wound now that you have us at your mercy--now that weare fallen?"
"From what are you fallen?" Mr. Caryll inquired. "Ah, but let that pass.I do not rally, madam. Mockery is far indeed from my intention." Heturned again to Rotherby. "Lord Ostermore was a father to you, which henever was to me--knew not that he was. The sentiments you so beautifullyexpressed to Mr. Templeton are the sentiments that actuate me now,though I shall make no attempt to express them. It is not that my heartstirs much where my Lord Ostermore is concerned. And yet, for the sakeof the name that is mine now, I shall leave England as I came--Mr.Justin Caryll, neither more nor less.
"In the eyes of the world there is no slur upon my mother's name,because her history--her supposed history--was unknown. See that noneever falls on it, else shall you find me pitiless indeed. See that noneever falls on it, or I shall return and drive home the lesson that,like Antinous, you've learnt--that 'twixt the cup and lip much ill maygrow'--and turn you, naked upon a contemptuous world. Needs more besaid? You understand, I think."
Rotherby understood nothing. But his mother's keener wits began toperceive a glimmer of the truth. "Do you mean that--that we are to--toremain in the station that we believed our own?"
"What else?"
She stared at him. Here was a generosity so weak, it seemed to her, asalmost to provoke her scorn. "You will leave your brother in possessionof the title and what else there may be?"
"You think me generous, madam," said he. "Do not misapprehend me. Iam not. I covet neither the title nor estates of Ostermore. Theirpossession would be a thorn in my flesh, a thorn of bitter memory. Thatis one reason why you should not think me generous, though it is not thereason why I cede them. I would have you understand me on this, perhapsthe last time, that we may meet.
"Lord Ostermore, my father, married you, madam, in good faith."
She interrupted harshly. "What is't you say?" she almost screamed,quivering with rage at the very thought of what her dead lord had done.
"He married you in good faith," Mr. Caryll repeated quietly,impressively. "I will make it plain to you. He married you believingthat the girl-wife he had left in France was dead. For fear it shouldcome to his father's knowledge, he kept that marriage secret from all.He durst not own his marriage to his father."
"He was not--as you may have appreciated in the years you lived withhim--a man of any profound feeling for others. For himself he had aprodigiously profound feeling, as you may also have gathered. Thatmarriage in France was troublesome. He had come to look upon it asone of his youth's follies--as he, himself, described it to me in thishouse, little knowing to whom he spoke. When he received the false newsof her death--for he did receive such news from the very cousin whocrossed from France to avenge her, believing her dead himself--herejoiced at his near escape from the consequences of his folly. Nor washe ever disabused of his error. For she had ceased to write to him bythen. And so he married you, madam, in good faith. That is the argumentI shall use with my Lord Carteret to make him understand that respectfor my father's memory urges me to depart in silence--save for what Imust have said to escape the impeachment with which you threatened me."
"Lord Carteret is a man of the world. He will understand thefar-reaching disturbance that must result from the disclosure of thetruth of this affair. He will pledge Mr. Templeton to silence, and thetruth, madam, will never be disclosed. That, I think, is all, madam."
"By God, sir," cried Rotherby, "that's damned handsome of you!"
"You epitomize it beautifully," said Mr. Caryll, with a reversion to hishabitual manner.
His mother, however, had no words at all. She advanced a step towardsMr. Caryll, put out her hands, and then--portent of portents!--two tearswere seen to trickle down her cheeks, playing havoc, ploughing furrowsin the paint that overlaid them.
Mr. Caryll stepped forward quickly. The sight of those tears,springing from that dried-up heart--withered by God alone knew whatblight--washing their way down those poor bedaubed cheeks, moved him toa keener pity than anything he had ever looked upon. He took her hands,and pressed them a moment, giving way for once to an impulse he couldnot master.
She would have kissed his own in the abasement and gratitude of themoment. But he restrained her.
"No more, your ladyship," said he, and by thus giving her once more thetitle she had worn, he seemed to reinstate her in the station from whichin self-defence he had pulled her down. "Promise that you'll bear nowitness against me should so much be needed, and I'll cry quits withyou. Without your testimony, they cannot hurt me, even though they weredisposed to do so, which is scarcely likely."
"Sir--sir--" she faltered brokenly. "Could you--could you suppose--"
"Indeed, no. So no more, ma'am. You do but harass yourself. Fare youwell, my lady. If I may trespass for a few moments longer upon thehospitality of Stretton House, I'll be your debtor."
"The house--and all--is yours, sir," she reminded him.
"There's but one thing in it that I'll carry off with me," said he. Heheld the door for her.
She looked into his face a moment. "God keep you!" said she, with asurprising fervor in one not over-fluent at her prayers. "God reward youfor showing this mercy to an old woman--who does not deserve so much."
"Fare you well, madam," he said again, bowing gravely. "And fare youwell, Lord Ostermore," he added to her son.
His brother looked at him a moment; seemed on the point of speaking, andthen--taking his cue, no doubt, from his mother's attitude--he held outhis hand.
Mr. Caryll took it, shook it, and let it go. After all, he bethoughthim, the man was his brother. And if his bearing was not altogethercordial, it was, at least, a clement imitation of cordiality.
He closed the door upon them, and sighed supreme relief. He turnedto face Hortensia, and a smile broke like sunshine upon his face, anddispelled the serious gloom of his expression. She sprang towards him.
"Come now, thou chattel, that I am resolved to carry with me from myfather's house," said he.
She checked in her approach. "'Tis not in such words that I'll bewooed," said she.
"A fig for words!" he cried. "Art wooed
and won. Confess it."
"You want nothing for self-esteem," she informed him gravely.
"One thing, Hortensia," he amended. "One thing I want--I lack--to esteemmyself greater than any king that rules."
"I like that better," she laughed, and suddenly she was in tears. "Oh,why do you mock, and make-believe that your heart is on your lips andnowhere else?" she asked him. "Is it your aim to be accounted triflingand shallow--you who can do such things as you have done but now? Oh, itwas noble! You made me very proud."
"Proud?" he echoed. "Ah! Then it must be that you are resolved to takethis impudent, fleering coxcomb for a husband," he said, rallying herwith the words she had flung at him that night in the moonlit Croydongarden.
"How I was mistook in you!" quoth she.
He made philosophy. "'Tis ever those in whom we are mistook that arebest worth knowing," he informed her. "The man or woman whom you canread at sight, is read and done with."
"Yet you were not mistook in me," said she.
"I was," he answered, "for I deemed you woman."
"What other have you found me?" she inquired.
He flung wide his arms, and bade her into them. "Here to my heart," hecried, "and in your ear I'll whisper it."
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