Presently she heard the jangle of the stable bell in the courtyard, and this was the first of the guests arriving, his carriage driving to the steps. Then, after a few minutes grace, the clatter of horses' hoofs, and once again the jangle of the bell, and now she could hear the sound of voices come from the dining-hall below, and Harry's voice booming out above the others, and the barking of Duke and Duchess. It was nearly dark, the garden was in shadow outside her window, and the trees were still. Down there in the woods, she thought, that sentinel is standing, peering down towards the creek, and perhaps he has been joined now by others, and they are all waiting there, with their backs to the trees, in silence, until we have finished our supper here in the house, and Eustick looks across at Godolphin, and Godolphin at Harry, and Harry at Rockingham, and then they will push back their chairs and smile at one another, and fingering their swords, go down into the woods. And if this were a hundred years ago, she thought, I would be prepared for this, and there would be sleeping draughts to put into their wine, or I would have sold myself to the devil and placed them under a spell, but it is not a hundred years ago, it is my own time, and such things do not happen any more, and all I can do is to sit at the table and smile upon them, and encourage them to drink.
She opened her door, and the sound of their voices rose from the dining-hall. There were the pompous tones of Godolphin, and that scratchy querulous cough of Philip Rashleigh, and a question from Rockingham, silken and smooth. She turned along the corridor to the children's room before descending, and kissed them as they slept, pulling aside the curtain so that the cool night air should come to them from the open casement, and then, as she walked once more to the head of the stairs, she heard a sound behind her, slow and dragging, as though someone, uncertain of his way in the darkness, shuffled in the passage.
"Who is there?" she whispered, and there was no answer. She waited a moment, a chill of fear upon her, while the loud voices of the guests came from below, and then once again there was the dragging shuffling sound in the dark passage, and a faint whisper, and a sigh.
She brought a candle from the children's room, and holding it high above her head, looked down into the long corridor whence the sound had come, and there, half-crouching, half-lying against the wall, was William, his face ashen pale, his left arm hanging useless at his side. She knelt down beside him, but he pushed her back, his small button mouth twisted with pain. "Don't touch me, my lady," he whispered, "you will soil your gown, there is blood on my sleeve."
"William, dear William, are you badly hurt?" she said, and he shook his head, his right hand clasping his shoulder.
"It is nothing, my lady," he said, "only somewhat unfortunate... tonight of all nights." And he closed his eyes, weak with pain, and she knew he was lying to her.
"How did it happen?" she asked.
"Coming back through the woods, my lady," he said, "I saw one of Lord Godolphin's men, and he challenged me. I managed to evade him, but received this scratch."
"You shall come to my room, and I will bathe your wound, and bind it for you," she whispered, and because he was barely conscious now, he protested no longer, but suffered her to lead him along the passage to her room, and once there she closed the door and bolted it, and helped him to her bed. Then she brought water and a towel, and in some fashion cleansed the cut in his shoulder, and bound it for him, and he turned his eyes up to her and said, "My lady, you should not do this for me," and "Lie still," she whispered, "lie still and rest."
His face was deadly white still, and she, knowing little of the depth of the wound or what she could do to ease his pain, felt helpless suddenly, and despairing, and he must have sensed it for he said, "Do not worry, my lady, I shall be all right. And at least my mission was successful, I went to La Mouette and saw my master."
"You told him?" she asked. "You told him that Godolphin, and Eustick, and the others were supping here tonight?"
"Yes, my lady, and he smiled in that way of his, my lady, and he said to me, 'Tell your mistress I am in no way disturbed, and that La Mouette has need of a cabin-boy.' " As William spoke there was a footstep outside, and someone knocked at the door. "Who is there?" called Dona, and the voice of the little maid-servant answered, "Sir Harry sends word to your ladyship, that he and the gentlemen are awaiting supper."
"Tell Sir Harry to start, I will be with them directly," said Dona, and bending down again to William she whispered, "And the ship herself, is all well with the ship, and will she sail tonight?" But he stared back at her now without recognition, and then closed his eyes, and she saw that he had fainted.
She covered him with her blankets, scarcely knowing what she did, and washed the blood from her hands in the water, and then, glancing in the mirror and seeing that the colour had drained away from her face too, she dabbed rouge high on her cheek-bones with unsteady fingers. Then she left her room, leaving William unconscious on her bed, and walking down the stairs into the dining-hall she heard the scraping of the chairs on the stone floor as the guests rose to their feet and waited for her. She held her head high in the air, and there was a smile on her lips, but she saw nothing, not the blaze of the candles, nor the long table piled with dishes, nor Godolphin in his plum-coloured coat, nor Rashleigh with his grey wig, nor Eustick fingering his sword, not all the eyes of the men who stared at her and bowed low as she passed to her seat at the head of the table, but only one man, who stood on the deck of his ship in the silent creek, saying farewell to her in thought as he waited for the tide.
Chapter XVIII
So, FOR THE FIRST TIME for many years, there was a banquet in the great dining-hall of Navron House. The candles shone down upon the guests as they sat shoulder to shoulder, six a side, at the long table, and the table itself was splendid with silver and rose-bordered plate and large bowls piled high with fruit. At one end the host, blue-eyed and flushed, his blond wig a little askew, laughed a shade too loudly and too long at every jest that passed. At the other end the hostess toyed with the dishes set before her, cool, unperturbed, throwing glances now and again at the guests beside her as though he on her right hand and he on her left were the only men who mattered in the world, she was theirs for this evening, or longer if they so desired. Never before, thought Harry St. Columb, kicking at one of the dogs under the table, never before had Dona flirted so blatantly, made eyes so outrageously. If this was the result of that confounded fever, God help all the fellows present. Never before, thought Rockingham, watching her across the table, never before had Dona looked so provocative; what was passing through her head that moment, and why had she walked through the woods towards the river at seven o'clock that evening, when he had thought her asleep in her bed?
And this, thought every guest who sat at her table, this is the famous Lady St. Columb, of whom, from time to time, we hear so much gossip, so much scandal; who sups in London taverns with the ladies of the town, who rides bareback in the streets at midnight in her husband's breeches, who has given something of herself, no doubt, to every philanderer at St. James's, not to mention His Majesty himself.
So at first the guests were suspicious, inarticulate, and shy, but when she talked, and looked across at them with a word and a smile, and asked them about their homes, their hobbies and pursuits, and who was married and who was not, and gave them, in turn, to understand that every word they uttered had importance to her, had charm, and that given the opportunity she would understand them as they had never been understood before, then they relaxed, then they melted, and to hell, thought young Penrose, with all the people who have maligned her, the jealous chit-chat of plain women of course, and God's truth, what a wife to have and to keep, thought Eustick, under lock and key, and never let out of your sight. There was Tremayne from beyond Probus, and red-wigged Carnethick who owned all the land on the west coast, and the first had no wife, and no mistress and so watched her dumbly, in sulky adoration, and the second had a wife ten years older than himself, and wondered, when Dona flashed him a glance across t
he table, whether there was any possibility of seeing her alone, later, when supper was over. Even Godolphin the pompous, Godolphin with his protruding eyes and his bulbous nose, admitted to himself, somewhat grudgingly, that Harry's wife had charm, although of course he did not approve of her and never would, and somehow he could not see Lucy taking to her as a companion, there was something bold about her eyes that made him feel uncomfortable. Philip Rashleigh, always taciturn with women, always gruff and silent, suddenly began to tell her about his boyhood, and how fond he had been of his mother, who had died when he was ten, "And it's now nearly eleven o'clock," thought Dona, "and we are still eating, and drinking, and talking, and if I can go on like this, even for a little longer, it will give him time down there in the creek, for the tide must be making all the while, and no matter whether La Mouette has a gap in her hull or not, what repairs they have done to her must hold, and the ship must sail."
She signalled with her eyes to the servants waiting, the glasses were filled once more, and while the hum and chatter of voices rang in her ear, and she glanced at her left-hand neighbour with a smile, she wondered if William had woken from his faint, or if he still lay upon her bed, ashen pale, with his eyes closed and that dark red stain on his shoulder. "We should have music," said Harry, his eyes half-closed, "we should have music like my grandfather used to, up there in the gallery, you know, when the old Queen was still alive, damn it, why does nobody have minstrels nowadays? I suppose the confounded Puritans killed 'em all." He is well away, thought Dona, watching him, knowing the signs, he will give little trouble this evening. "I consider that sort of foolery better dead," said Eustick frowning, the gibe at the Puritans pricking him, for his father had fought for Parliament.
"Is there much dancing then at Court?" questioned young Tremayne, flushing all over his face, looking up at her eagerly. "Why, yes," she answered him, "you should come to town you know, when Harry and I return, I will find a wife for you." But he shook his head, stammering a refusal, a dog-like appeal in his eyes. "James will be his age in twenty years' time," she thought, "creeping into my room at three in the morning to tell me of his latest scrape, and all this will be forgotten, and put aside, and perhaps I shall remember it suddenly, seeing James's eyes and his eager face, and I shall tell him how I kept twelve men at supper until nearly midnight, so that the only man I have ever loved should escape to France and out of my life for ever."
What was Rockingham saying, out of the corner of his mouth to Harry? "Yes, by thunder," called Harry down the table. "That rascal of a servant of yours has never come back, do you know that, Dona?" And he thumped the table with his fist, the glasses shaking, and Godolphin frowned, for he had spilt his wine down his lace cravat. "I know," smiled Dona, "but it has made no difference, we have done very well without him."
"What would you do, George," shouted Harry, determined to air his grievance, "with a servant who takes the night off when his master has guests for supper?"
"Dismiss him, naturally, my dear Harry," said Godolphin.
"Thrash him into the bargain," added Eustick.
"Yes, but that's all very well," said Harry, hiccoughing, "the blasted fellow is a pet of Dona's. When she was ill he was in and out of her bedroom all hours of the day and night. Would you put up with that, George? Does your wife have a manservant hanging about her bedroom, eh?"
"Certainly not," replied Godolphin. "Lady Godolphin is in a very delicate state of health at the moment, and can't abide anyone but her old nurse with her, excepting of course myself."
"How charming," said Rockingham, "how rural and touching. Lady St. Columb, on the contrary, seems to have no women servants about her at all," and he smiled across at Dona, raising his glass, and "How did you enjoy your walk, Dona?" he said, "did you find it wet there in the woods?"
Dona did not answer. Godolphin looked upon her with suspicion, for really if Harry permitted his wife to dally with servants he would soon be the talk of the countryside, and now he came to think of it he remembered an impertinent scrap of a groom driving the carriage the day Harry's wife had taken tea with them. "How is your wife bearing with the heat?" Dona enquired. "I think of her so often," but she did not hear his reply, for Philip Rashleigh was talking in her left ear. "I swear I have seen you before, dear lady," he was saying, "but I cannot for the life of me recollect the time or the place."
And he stared at his plate, wrinkling his brows, as though by force of concentration he would bring back the scene.
"Some more wine for Mr. Rashleigh," said Dona, smiling graciously, pushing his glass towards him. "Yes, I also feel that we have met, but it must have been six years ago, when I came here as a bride."
"No, I'll take my oath on that," said Rashleigh, shaking his head. "It's an inflection in your voice I believe, and I have heard it not so long ago either."
"But Dona has that effect on every man," said Rockingham; "they always feel, after seeing her, that they have known her before. You will find, my dear Rashleigh, that it will keep you awake at night."
"I gather you speak with experience?" said Carnethick, and they exchanged glances, and Rockingham smiled, adjusting the lace at his wrists.
"How I detest him," thought Dona; "those narrow catlike eyes, that meaning smile. He would like every man at this table to believe he makes love to me."
"Were you ever in Fowey?" asked Philip Rashleigh.
"Never to my certain knowledge," she answered, and he drank down his wine, still shaking his head doubtfully.
"You have heard how I was robbed?" he said.
"Yes, indeed," she answered, "so very distressing for you. And you have never had news of your ship since?"
"Never a word," he said bitterly. "Ah, she's snug in a French port by now, with no legal means of extracting her. That's what comes of having a Court packed with foreigners, and a King who speaks better French, by all accounts, than he does English. However, I hope to settle accounts tonight, once and for all."
Dona glanced up at the clock above the stairs. It wanted twenty minutes to midnight. "And you, my lord?" she said, smiling upon Godolphin, "were you also involved in the loss of Mr, Rashleigh's ship?"
"I was, madam," he replied stiffly.
"But I trust you received no hurt?"
"Luckily none. The rascals were too glad to show us their heels. Like every Frenchman, they preferred to run for it rather than face up to an honest fight."
"And was their leader really the desperate man you have led me to believe?"
"Twenty times worse, madam. The most impudent, bloodthirsty, evil-looking rogue I've ever clapped eyes upon. We have heard since that his own ship carried a full complement of women, on every voyage, and most of them, poor wretches, kidnapped from our villages. Needless to say, I have told nothing of this to my wife."
"Naturally not, it might precipitate matters unduly," murmured Dona.
"He had a woman aboard the Merry Fortune," said Philip Rashleigh. "I could see her there on the deck above me, as plain as I see you now. A bold-faced baggage if ever there was one, with a cut on her chin, and her hair all over her eyes. Some harlot from the French docks, no doubt."
"And there was a boy," added Godolphin, "a wretched scrap of a boy who came knocking on Philip's door; I'll take my oath he had a hand in it. He had a whining way of speaking, and a womanish cut about him that was most unpleasing."
"These Frenchmen are so decadent," said Dona.
"They'd never have slipped away from us, but for the wind," snorted Rashleigh; "down came a puff from Ready-money cove, and her sails filled. You'd say it was the work of the devil himself. George here had the villain covered with his musket, but he missed him."
"And how was that, my lord?"
"I was temporarily at a disadvantage, madam," began Godolphin, the colour mounting to his face, and Harry, looking down from the opposite end of the table slapped his hand on his knee and shouted, "We've heard all about it, never fear, George. You lost your wig, didn't you? The rascal of a froggie
pinched your wig?" and immediately all eyes turned on Godolphin, who sat stiff as a ramrod, staring at the glass in front of him.
"Take no notice of them, dear Lord Godolphin," smiled Dona, "only have a little more to drink. For what, after all, is the loss of a wig? It might have been something so much more precious, and what would Lady Godolphin do then?" And Rashleigh's neighbour Carnethick, on her left, choked suddenly over his wine.
A quarter to midnight, ten minutes, five minutes to midnight, and there was young Tremayne discussing cock-fighting with Penrose of Tregonny, and a man from Bodmin whose name she had not heard was digging Rockingham in the ribs, whispering some bawdy story behind his hand, and Carnethick was leering at her across the table, and Philip Rashleigh was picking off grapes with a wrinkled hairy hand, and Harry, half lolling in his chair, was singing a song to himself that had no tune, one hand caressing his glass, and the other fondling the spaniel on his lap. But suddenly, Eustick, glancing at the clock, leapt to his feet and called in a voice of thunder, "Gentlemen, we have wasted time enough. Have you all forgotten we have met tonight on very desperate business?"
There was silence at once. Tremayne looked down at his plate, blushing, and Carnethick wiped his mouth with a lace handkerchief, gazing straight in front of him. Someone coughed awkwardly, someone shuffled with his feet under the table, and only Harry continued smiling, humming his tuneless drunken song, and out in the courtyard the stable clock struck midnight. Eustick looked meaningly at his hostess. Dona rose to her feet at once, and "You wish me to go?" she said.
"Nonsense," called Harry, opening one eye, "let my wife stay at her own table, damme. The party will fall flat without her, parties always do. Here's your health, my beautiful, even if you do permit servants in and out of your bedroom."
"Harry, the time for jesting is over," said Godolphin, and turning to Dona, "We could talk more freely if you were not here. As Eustick has just observed, we have all become a little forgetful of our purpose."
"But of course I understand," said Dona, "I would not dream of hindering you in any way," and as they all stood to let her pass, the great bell jangled in the court outside.