The Tangled Skein

  CHAPTER V

  LADIES AND GALLANTS

  Breathless, half laughing and half crying, very merry, yet whollyfrightened, those same two hooded and masked figures had paused almostimmediately beneath the platform of Mirrab's tent.

  They had been running very fast, and, exhausted, were now clinging toone another, cowering in the deepest shadow of the rough woodenconstruction.

  "Oh! Margaret sweet," whispered a feminine voice from behind the silkenmask, "I vow I should have died with fright!"

  "Think you we have escaped them?" murmured the other feebly.

  She who had first spoken, taller than her friend and obviously theleader of this mad escapade, tiptoed cautiously forward and peered outinto the open space.

  "Sh--sh--sh!" she whispered, as she dragged her unwilling companionafter her, "do you see them? . . . right over there . . . they arerunning fast . . . Oh! ho! ho! ho!" she laughed suddenly with childishglee as she clapped her hands together; "but, Margaret dear! . . . didwe not fool them merrily? . . . Oh! I could shriek for joy! Aye, run,run, run, my fine gallants!" she added, blowing an imaginary kiss to herdistant pursuers, "an you go that way you'll ne'er o'ertake us, e'enthough you raced the wind . . . ha! ha! ha! . . ."

  Her laugh sounded a little forced and hysterical, for she had had aterrible fright, and her companion was still clinging miserably,helplessly to her side.

  "Nay, Ursula, how can you be so merry?" admonished Margaret in a voicealmost choked with tears; "think if the Duchess of Lincoln were to hearof this adventure--or Her Majesty herself--oh! . . ."

  But Ursula's gay, madcap mood was proof against Margaret's tears.

  "Oh! oh! oh!" she ejaculated, mimicking her friend's tones of horror."Oh!" she added with mock seriousness, "well, then, of course, therewould be trouble, Margaret mine! . . . sweet Margaret! . . . such alecture! . . . and oh! oh! oh! such black looks from Her Majesty! . . .we should e'en--think on it!--have to look demure for at least two days,until our sins be forgiven us! . . ."

  She paused awhile, mischief apparent even beneath the half-transparentlace which hid her laughter-loving mouth. She drew her tremblingcompanion closer to her, and, still laughing, she coaxed her gently.

  "There, there, sweet," she murmured, "cheer up, I pray thee, cheer up.. . . See, we have come to the end of our journey. We have baffled thosepersistent gallants, and this is the witch's tent. Margaret!" she addedwith an impatient tap of the foot, "art a goose to go on crying so? Ivow I'd have come alone had I known thou'rt such a coward."

  "Ursula!" said Margaret, somewhat emboldened by her friend's assurance,"could you guess who were those two gallants?"

  "Nay," replied Ursula indifferently, "one of them, methinks, was theMarquis de Suarez, for I caught sight of his black silk hose, but whatdo we care about these nincompoops, Margaret? Come and see the witch--wehave no time to lose."

  Eagerly she turned towards the booth, and somewhat awed, anxious, yetnot wholly daring, she gazed up in astonishment at the gaudy draperies,the tall flagstaff, the weird black flag with its strange device. Thenwith sudden resolution she planted her foot upon the bottom step.

  "Wilt follow me, sweet?" she asked.

  Even as she spoke Abra, in tall peaked cap and flowing mantle, emergedfrom within the tent.

  Margaret, who was screwing up her courage to follow her friend, gave ashriek of dismay.

  "No! no! no! Ursula!" she said, clinging to the other girl, not daringto look up at the awesome figure of the lean magician. "I implore you,give up the thought."

  "Give up the thought?" rejoined Ursula, boldly trying to smother her ownsuperstitious fears, "when I've gone thus far?"

  "I cannot think what you want with that horrid witch!" pleaded Margaret.

  At sight of Abra's long white beard, his wizard's wand, and cloakcovered with cabalistic signs, even Ursula's courage had begun to ebb.She had hastily retreated from the steps and followed Margaret once morewithin the protecting shelter of the shadows.

  "I want to know my fortune, Margaret mine," she said in a voice whichwas not quite as firm as before, "and I hear that this witch can seeinto the future. 'Tis said that she has marvellous powers."

  "Why should you want to know the future?" persisted timid, practicalMargaret; "is not the present good enough for you?"

  "His Grace of Wessex comes back to Court to-day," rejoined Ursula,"after an absence of many months."

  "Well?--what of him?"

  "What of him? . . . Margaret, art stupid, or art not my friend? . . .Is it not natural that I should wish to know whether I am to be Duchessof Wessex or abbess in a holy but uncomfortable convent?"

  "Yes, 'tis natural enough," assented Margaret thoughtfully, "but----"

  "His Grace has never seen me since I was so long," said Ursula with ashort, impatient sigh, and stretching out a round arm decked with asleeve of rich silk and fine lace. "I had a red face then, and pap wasstuffed into my mouth to keep me quiet. You see, I could not have beenmadly alluring then."

  "And you are beautiful now, Ursula. But of what avail is it? You cannotwed His Grace of Wessex, for he'll never ask you to be his wife. He'llmarry the Queen. All England wishes it."

  "But I wish him to marry me," quoth Ursula with a resolute tap of herhigh-heeled shoe against the ground. "Yes, me! and I want that witchyonder to ask the stars if he will fall in love with me when he sees me,or if he will yield to those who want to make of him a tool for theirpolitical ambition, and marry an ugly, ill-tempered old woman whohappens to be Queen of England."

  "Ursula!"

  Margaret's horror, amazement, and awe had rendered her almostspeechless. Ursula's utterance was nearly sacrilegious, in these dayswhen kings and queens ruled by right divine.

  But the young girl continued, quite unabashed by her friend's rebuke.

  "Well," she said imperturbably, "you can't deny that the Queen is old!. . . and ugly! . . . and ill-tempered! . . ."

  Margaret, however, was prepared to deny these monstrous statements withthe last breath left in her delicate body. The poor little soul wasfrightened out of her wits.

  Suppose some one had overheard!--and repeated the tale that two of theQueen's ladies-in-waiting had called Her Majesty old!--and ugly!--andill-tempered!----

  Nay, Ursula's madcap freaks were past bearing! and would lead her intoserious trouble one of these days.

  "Margaret," whispered the delinquent, who still seemed quite unaware ofthe enormity of her offence, "hast thou ever seen His Grace of Wessex?"

  "No," replied Margaret curtly, for she was still very wrathful, andvaguely felt that, at this stage, all references to the Duke weresomehow treasonable.

  "Nor I since I was a baby," sighed Ursula; "but see here. . . ."

  From beneath the folds of her cloak she drew a chain and locket, andholding the latter before Margaret's unwilling eyes, she saidecstatically--

  "That's his picture. Isn't he handsome?"

  "You've fallen in love with his picture!"

  "Madly!"

  "Madly indeed!" retorted Margaret.

  Ursula once more hid the locket inside her robe. She had regained allher courage. Once more dragging her weaker companion by the wrist sheturned towards the witch's booth.

  Abra, the magician, tired out by his day's exertions, had settledhimself down on a tattered piece of rug outside the tent; there he hadfallen peacefully asleep, his venerable head thrown back, his leanshanks hanging over the edge of the platform and snoring the snore ofthe just. Thus he had failed to spy the two hooded, dainty figures, whohad all along kept within the shadows.

  Suddenly through his pleasant slumbers he heard an eagerly whispered--

  "Hey! friend!"

  Whilst the toe of his shoe was violently tagged at from below.

  "Friend, wake!"

  "They won't listen!" added an impatient, half-tearful voice.

  But already Abra was on his feet. Giving his humble henchman a violentkick to wake him up, he began to mutter mechanically, even befor
e he wasfully conscious--

  "What ho, my masters! consult the world-famous necromancer----"

  Bang! bang! bang! on the big drum came automatically from his henchman,who was only half awake.

  "No! no! no!" entreated Ursula, "I prithee not so much noise! We wish toconsult the soothsayer . . . we've brought some money . . . three goldpieces . . . is that enough? . . . But in the name of Our Lady I beg ofthee not to make so much noise."

  Timidly she held up a silken purse towards the astonished wizard. Threegold pieces!--why, 'twas a fortune, the like of which the worthy Abrahad never beheld in one sum in his life.

  To ask him not to make a noise was to demand the impossible. With onehand he pushed his henchman vigorously to one side. The latter droppedhis cymbals, which rattled off the platform with an ear-splitting crash.

  All the while Abra in stentorian tones, and holding back the folds ofthe tent, was shouting at the top of his voice--

  "This way, ladies! for the great soothsayer Mirrab, the sale oflove-philters and charms, and of the true elixir of life."

  "The die is cast, Margaret mine," said Ursula, trying vainly to steadyher voice, which was trembling, and her knees which were shaking beneathher. "Art coming?--Oh! I--I--feel a little nervous," she admitted inspite of herself, "and you--oh! how your hand trembles. . . ."

  She was frankly terrified now. The noise was so awful, and though shedid not dare look to the right or left of her she was conscious that sheand her friend were no longer alone on the open place. She could hearthe murmur of voices, the sound of idle folk gathering in everydirection.

  Her instinct suggested immediate flight, and the abandonment of this madadventure while there was yet time, but her pride urged her to proceed.She gripped Margaret's wrist with a resolute hand and made a quick rushfor the steps.

  Alas! she was just two seconds too late. The next instant she felt herwaist seized firmly from behind, whilst a merry voice shouted--

  "Cornered at last!"

  Wrenching herself free with a sudden twist of her firm young shoulders,Ursula contrived to liberate herself momentarily. She was dimlyconscious of having caught sight of Margaret in the like plight asherself.

  "Not so fast, fair one," whispered an insinuating voice close to her, "aword in thy pretty ear."

  Oh! the shame of this vulgar adventure! Pursued like some kitchen wenchout on a spree, by a gallant, eager for an idle kiss.

  She felt her cheeks tingle underneath her mask; saw and guessed theshort laugh, the shrug of the shoulders of the idlers round, far tooaccustomed to these spectacles to take more than passing note of it.

  Once more the firm grip had seized her waist. This time she felt herselfpowerless to struggle.

  "Nay, in the name of heaven, sir," she entreated tearfully, "I pray youlet me go."

  "Not until I have caught a nearer sight of those bright eyes, that shineat me through that cruel mask."

  The soft guttural tones revealed the identity of the speaker to Ursula.She knew Don Miguel well; knew his wild, impudent spirit, his love ofidle flirtations which had already made him the terror of the primQueen's Court. She knew that she would not be allowed to escape beforethis ridiculous episode had been brought to its usual conclusion.

  Oh! how she longed for the Duchess of Lincoln's severe guardianship atthis moment! How bitterly she repented the folly which had prompted herto drag Margaret along into this wild adventure.

  Poor Margaret! she, too, was doing her best to evade the unwelcomeattentions of her gallant! and that magician! and those louts! allgrinning like so many apes at the spectacle.

  It was maddening!

  And she was helpless!

  The next moment the young Spaniard's indiscreet hands had snatched theprotecting mask from her face, and the daintiest and most perfectpicture Nature had ever fashioned stood revealed, blushing with shameand vexation, before his delighted, slightly sarcastic gaze.

  "Ah! luck favours me indeed!" he murmured with avowed admiration, "thenewly-risen star--nay! the brightest sun in the firmament of beauty! theLady Ursula Glynde!"