Jeanne of the Marshes

  CHAPTER XVII

  Jeanne was sitting in the garden of the Caynsard farm. The excitementof the last twenty-four hours had left her languid. For once she layand watched with idle, almost with indifferent eyes, the great stretchof marshes riven with the incoming sea. She saw the fishing boats thata few hours ago were dead inert things upon a bed of mud, come glidingup the tortuous water-ways. On the horizon was the sea bank, with itslong line of poles, and the wires connecting the coastguard stations.They stood like silent sentinels, clean and distinct against the emptybackground. Jeanne sighed as she watched, and the thoughts camecrowding into her head. It was a restful country this, a country oftimeworn, mouldering grey churches, and of immemorial landmarks, acountry where everything seemed fixed and restful, everything exceptthe sea. A wave of self pity swept over her. After all she had lived avery little time to know so much unhappiness. Worse than all, thismorning she was filled with apprehensions. She feared something. Shescarcely knew what, or from what direction it might come. The song ofthe larks brought her no comfort. The familiar and beautiful placesupon which she looked pleased her no more. She was glad when KateCaynsard came out of the house and moved slowly towards her.

  Kate, too, showed some of the signs of the recent excitement. Therewere black lines under her wonderful eyes, and she walked hesitatingly,without any of the firm splendid grace which made her movements adelight to watch. Jeanne was afraid at first that she was going to turnaway, and called to her.

  "Kate," she exclaimed, "I want you. Come here and talk to me."

  Kate threw herself on to the ground by Jeanne's side.

  "All the talking in the world," she murmured, "will not change thethings that happened last night. They will not even smooth away theevil memories."

  Jeanne was silent. There was a thought in her head which had been theretwisting and biting its way in her brain through the silent hours ofthe night and again in her waking moments. She looked down towards hercompanion stretched at her feet.

  "Kate," she said, "how did Mr. Andrew get the message that brought himto the Red Hall last night?"

  "I sent it," Kate answered. "I sent him word that there were thingsgoing on at the Red Hall which I could not understand. I told him thatI thought it would be well if he came."

  "You knew his address?" Jeanne asked, a little coldly.

  "Yes!" Kate answered.

  "You have written him before, perhaps?" Jeanne asked.

  "Yes!" the girl answered absently.

  There was a short silence. Each of the two seemed occupied in her ownthoughts. When Jeanne spoke again her manner was changed. The othergirl noticed it, without being conscious of the reason.

  "What has happened this morning, do you know?" Jeanne asked.

  "They are all at the Red Hall still," Kate answered. "Major Forresttried to leave this morning, but Mr. Andrew would not let him. He willnot let either of them go away until Lord Ronald is well enough to saywhat shall be done."

  "I wonder," Jeanne said, "what would have happened if Mr. Andrew hadnot arrived last night."

  "God knows!" Kate answered. "He is a wily brute, the man Forrest. Howwas it that you," she added, "found Mr. Andrew?"

  "I waited on the mound in the plantation," Jeanne said, "with my ear tothe ground, and presently I heard a pistol shot and then a scuffle, andafterwards silence. I was frightened, and I made my way to the road andhurried along toward the village. Then I saw a cart and I stopped it,and inside was Mr. Andrew, on his way from Wells. I told him somethingof what was happening, and he put me in the cart and sent me back. Thenhe went on to the Red Hall."

  Kate nodded slowly.

  "I am glad that I sent for him," she said. "I am afraid that last nightthere would have been bloodshed if he had not come. When he was therethere was not one who dared speak or move any more, except as hedirected. He is very strong, and he was made, I think, to command men."

  Jeanne's lips quivered for a moment. Her eyes were fixed upon thedistant figure, motionless now, upon the raised sandbanks. Kate hadturned her head toward the Red Hall, and was looking at one of thewindows there as though her eyes would pierce the distance.

  "Tell me," Jeanne asked. "I have seen you once with Mr. De la Borne. Heis a great friend of yours?"

  "He was," the girl at her feet whispered.

  Jeanne found herself shaking. She stooped down.

  "What do you mean?" she whispered.

  Kate looked up from the ground. She raised herself a little. For amoment her eyes flashed.

  "I mean," she said, "that before you came he was more than a friend. Itwas you who drove his thoughts of me away. You with your great fortune,and your childish, foreign ways. Oh, I talk like a fool, I know!" shesaid, springing up, "but I am not a fool. I do not hate you. I havenever tried to do you any harm. It is not your fault. It is what onecalls fate. Once," she cried, "we Caynsards lived along the coast therein a house greater than the Red Hall, and our lands were richer.Generation after generation of us have been pushed by fortune downwardsand downwards. The men lose lands and money, and the women disgracethemselves, or creep into some corner to die with a broken heart. Italk to you as one of the villagers here. I know very well that I speakthe dialect of the peasants, and that my words are ill-chosen. How canI help it? We are all paupers, every one of us. That is why sometimes Ifeel that I cannot breathe. That is why I do mad things, and peoplebelieve that I am indeed out of my mind."

  She sprang to her feet. Jeanne tried to detain her.

  "Let me talk to you for a little time, Kate," she begged. "You are noneof the things you fancy, and I am very sure that Mr. De la Borne doesnot care for me, or for my fortune. Stay just for a minute."

  But Kate was already gone. Jeanne could see her speeding down to theharbour, and a few minutes later gliding down the creek in her littlecatboat.

  The Count de Brensault was angry, and he had not sufficient dignity tohide it. The Princess, in whose boudoir he was, regarded him from hersofa as one might look at some strange animal.

  "My dear Count," she said, "it is not reasonable that you should beangry with me. Is it my fault that I am plagued with a stepdaughter ofso extraordinary a temperament? She will return directly, or we shallfind her. I am sure of it. The wedding can be arranged then as speedilyas you wish. I give her to you. I consent to your marriage. What couldwoman do more?"

  "That is all very well," the Count said, "all very well indeed, but Ido not understand how it is that a young lady could disappear from herhome like this, and that her guardian should know nothing about it.Where could she have gone to? You say that she had very little money.Why should she go? Who was unkind to her?"

  "All that I did," the Princess answered, "was to tell her that she mustmarry you."

  The Count twirled his moustache.

  "Is it likely," he demanded, "that that should drive her away from herhome? The idea of marriage, it may terrify these young misses at thefirst thought, but in their hearts they are very, very glad. Ah!" headded softly, "I have had some experience. I am not a boy."

  The Princess looked at him. Whatever her thoughts may have been, herface remained inscrutable.

  "No!" the Count continued, drawing his chair a little nearer to thePrincess' couch, and leaning towards her, "I do not believe that it wasthe fear of marriage which drove little Jeanne to disappear."

  "Then what do you believe, my dear Count?" the Princess asked.

  His eyes seemed to narrow.

  "Perhaps," he said significantly, "you may have thought that with hergreat fortune, and seeing me a little foolish for her, that you had notdriven quite a good enough bargain, eh?"

  "You insulting beast!" the Princess remarked.

  The Count grinned. He was in no way annoyed.

  "Ah!" he said. "I am a man whom it is not easy to deceive. I have seenvery much of the world, and I know the ways of women. A woman who wantsmoney, my dear Princess, is very, very clever, and not too honest."

  "Your experiences, Count," the Princess sai
d, "may be interesting, butI do not see how they concern me."

  "But they might concern you," the Count said, "if I were to speakplainly; if, for instance, I were to double that little amount we spokeof."

  "Do you mean to insinuate," the Princess remarked, "that I know whereJeanne is now? That it is I who have put her out of the way for alittle time, in order to make a better bargain with you?"

  The Count bowed his head.

  "A very clever scheme," he declared, "a very clever scheme indeed."

  The Princess drew a little breath. Then she looked at the Count andsuddenly laughed. After all, it was not worth while to be angry withsuch a creature. Besides, if Jeanne should turn up, she might as wellhave the extra money.

  "You give me credit, I fear," she said, "for being a cleverer womanthan I am, but as a matter of curiosity, supposing I am able to handyou over Jeanne very shortly, would you agree to double the littleamount we have spoken of?"

  "I will double it," the Count declared solemnly. "You see when I wishfor a thing I am generous. I can only hope," he added, with a peculiarsmile, "Miss Jeanne may soon make her reappearance." There was a knockat the door. The Princess looked up, frowning. Her maid put her headcautiously in.

  "I am sorry to disturb you, madam, against your orders," she said, "butMiss Jeanne has just arrived."