III.

  As he had promised, De Stancy made use the next day of the covetedpermission that had been brought about by the ingenious Dare. Dare'stimely suggestion of tendering assistance had the practical result ofrelieving the other of all necessity for occupying his time with theproceeding, further than to bestow a perfunctory superintendence nowand then, to give a colour to his regular presence in the fortress, theactual work of taking copies being carried on by the younger man.

  The weather was frequently wet during these operations, and Paula,Miss De Stancy, and her brother, were often in the house whole morningstogether. By constant urging and coaxing the latter would induce hisgentle sister, much against her conscience, to leave him opportunitiesfor speaking to Paula alone. It was mostly before some print or paintingthat these conversations occurred, while De Stancy was ostensiblyoccupied with its merits, or in giving directions to his photographerhow to proceed. As soon as the dialogue began, the latter would withdrawout of earshot, leaving Paula to imagine him the most deferential youngartist in the world.

  'You will soon possess duplicates of the whole gallery,' she said on oneof these occasions, examining some curled sheets which Dare had printedoff from the negatives.

  'No,' said the soldier. 'I shall not have patience to go on. I getill-humoured and indifferent, and then leave off.'

  'Why ill-humoured?'

  'I scarcely know--more than that I acquire a general sense of my ownfamily's want of merit through seeing how meritorious the people arearound me. I see them happy and thriving without any necessity for me atall; and then I regard these canvas grandfathers and grandmothers, andask, "Why was a line so antiquated and out of date prolonged till now?"'

  She chid him good-naturedly for such views. 'They will do you aninjury,' she declared. 'Do spare yourself, Captain De Stancy!'

  De Stancy shook his head as he turned the painting before him a littlefurther to the light.

  'But, do you know,' said Paula, 'that notion of yours of being a familyout of date is delightful to some people. I talk to Charlotte aboutit often. I am never weary of examining those canopied effigies in thechurch, and almost wish they were those of my relations.'

  'I will try to see things in the same light for your sake,' said DeStancy fervently.

  'Not for my sake; for your own was what I meant, of course,' she repliedwith a repressive air.

  Captain De Stancy bowed.

  'What are you going to do with your photographs when you have them?' sheasked, as if still anxious to obliterate the previous sentimental lapse.

  'I shall put them into a large album, and carry them with me in mycampaigns; and may I ask, now I have an opportunity, that you wouldextend your permission to copy a little further, and let me photographone other painting that hangs in the castle, to fittingly complete myset?'

  'Which?'

  'That half-length of a lady which hangs in the morning-room. I rememberseeing it in the Academy last year.'

  Paula involuntarily closed herself up. The picture was her own portrait.'It does not belong to your series,' she said somewhat coldly.

  De Stancy's secret thought was, I hope from my soul it will belong someday! He answered with mildness: 'There is a sort of connection--you aremy sister's friend.'

  Paula assented.

  'And hence, might not your friend's brother photograph your picture?'

  Paula demurred.

  A gentle sigh rose from the bosom of De Stancy. 'What is to become ofme?' he said, with a light distressed laugh. 'I am always inconsiderateand inclined to ask too much. Forgive me! What was in my mind when Iasked I dare not say.'

  'I quite understand your interest in your family pictures--and allof it,' she remarked more gently, willing not to hurt the sensitivefeelings of a man so full of romance.

  'And in that ONE!' he said, looking devotedly at her. 'If I had onlybeen fortunate enough to include it with the rest, my album would indeedhave been a treasure to pore over by the bivouac fire!'

  'O, Captain De Stancy, this is provoking perseverance!' cried Paula,laughing half crossly. 'I expected that after expressing my decisionso plainly the first time I should not have been further urged upon thesubject.' Saying which she turned and moved decisively away.

  It had not been a productive meeting, thus far. 'One word!' said DeStancy, following and almost clasping her hand. 'I have given offence, Iknow: but do let it all fall on my own head--don't tell my sister ofmy misbehaviour! She loves you deeply, and it would wound her to theheart.'

  'You deserve to be told upon,' said Paula as she withdrew, with justenough playfulness to show that her anger was not too serious.

  Charlotte looked at Paula uneasily when the latter joined her in thedrawing-room. She wanted to say, 'What is the matter?' but guessing thather brother had something to do with it, forbore to speak at first. Shecould not contain her anxiety long. 'Were you talking with my brother?'she said.

  'Yes,' returned Paula, with reservation. However, she soon added, 'Henot only wants to photograph his ancestors, but MY portrait too. Theyare a dreadfully encroaching sex, and perhaps being in the army makesthem worse!'

  'I'll give him a hint, and tell him to be careful.'

  'Don't say I have definitely complained of him; it is not worth whileto do that; the matter is too trifling for repetition. Upon the whole,Charlotte, I would rather you said nothing at all.'

  De Stancy's hobby of photographing his ancestors seemed to become aperfect mania with him. Almost every morning discovered him inthe larger apartments of the castle, taking down and rehanging thedilapidated pictures, with the assistance of the indispensable Dare;his fingers stained black with dust, and his face expressing a busyattention to the work in hand, though always reserving a look askancefor the presence of Paula.

  Though there was something of subterfuge, there was no deep and doublesubterfuge in all this. De Stancy took no particular interest in hisancestral portraits; but he was enamoured of Paula to weakness. Perhapsthe composition of his love would hardly bear looking into, but it wasrecklessly frank and not quite mercenary. His photographic scheme wasnothing worse than a lover's not too scrupulous contrivance. After therefusal of his request to copy her picture he fumed and fretted at theprospect of Somerset's return before any impression had been made onher heart by himself; he swore at Dare, and asked him hotly why he haddragged him into such a hopeless dilemma as this.

  'Hopeless? Somerset must still be kept away, so that it is not hopeless.I will consider how to prolong his stay.'

  Thereupon Dare considered.

  The time was coming--had indeed come--when it was necessary for Paula tomake up her mind about her architect, if she meant to begin building inthe spring. The two sets of plans, Somerset's and Havill's, were hangingon the walls of the room that had been used by Somerset as his studio,and were accessible by anybody. Dare took occasion to go and study bothsets, with a view to finding a flaw in Somerset's which might have beenpassed over unnoticed by the committee of architects, owing to theirabsence from the actual site. But not a blunder could he find.

  He next went to Havill; and here he was met by an amazing state ofaffairs. Havill's creditors, at last suspecting something mythicalin Havill's assurance that the grand commission was his, had lost allpatience; his house was turned upside-down, and a poster gleamed on thefront wall, stating that the excellent modern household furniture wasto be sold by auction on Friday next. Troubles had apparently come inbattalions, for Dare was informed by a bystander that Havill's wife wasseriously ill also.

  Without staying for a moment to enter his friend's house, back wentMr. Dare to the castle, and told Captain De Stancy of the architect'sdesperate circumstances, begging him to convey the news in some way toMiss Power. De Stancy promised to make representations in the properquarter without perceiving that he was doing the best possible deed forhimself thereby.

  He told Paula of Havill's misfortunes in the presence of his sister,who turned pale. She discerned how this misfortune would bear
upon theundecided competition.

  'Poor man,' murmured Paula. 'He was my father's architect, and somehowexpected, though I did not promise it, the work of rebuilding thecastle.'

  Then De Stancy saw Dare's aim in sending him to Miss Power with thenews; and, seeing it, concurred: Somerset was his rival, and all wasfair. 'And is he not to have the work of the castle after expecting it?'he asked.

  Paula was lost in reflection. 'The other architect's design and Mr.Havill's are exactly equal in merit, and we cannot decide how to give itto either,' explained Charlotte.

  'That is our difficulty,' Paula murmured. 'A bankrupt, and his wifeill--dear me! I wonder what's the cause.'

  'He has borrowed on the expectation of having to execute the castleworks, and now he is unable to meet his liabilities.'

  'It is very sad,' said Paula.

  'Let me suggest a remedy for this dead-lock,' said De Stancy.

  'Do,' said Paula.

  'Do the work of building in two halves or sections. Give Havill thefirst half, since he is in need; when that is finished the second halfcan be given to your London architect. If, as I understand, the plansare identical, except in ornamental details, there will be no difficultyabout it at all.'

  Paula sighed--just a little one; and yet the suggestion seemed tosatisfy her by its reasonableness. She turned sad, wayward, but wasimpressed by De Stancy's manner and words. She appeared indeed to havea smouldering desire to please him. In the afternoon she said toCharlotte, 'I mean to do as your brother says.'

  A note was despatched to Havill that very day, and in an hour thecrestfallen architect presented himself at the castle. Paula instantlygave him audience, commiserated him, and commissioned him to carry outa first section of the buildings, comprising work to the extent of abouttwenty thousand pounds expenditure; and then, with a prematureness quiteamazing among architects' clients, she handed him over a cheque for fivehundred pounds on account.

  When he had gone, Paula's bearing showed some sign of being disquietedat what she had done; but she covered her mood under a cloak of saucyserenity. Perhaps a tender remembrance of a certain thunderstorm in theforegoing August when she stood with Somerset in the arbour, and did notown that she loved him, was pressing on her memory and bewildering her.She had not seen quite clearly, in adopting De Stancy's suggestion, thatSomerset would now have no professional reason for being at the castlefor the next twelve months.

  But the captain had, and when Havill entered the castle he rejoiced withgreat joy. Dare, too, rejoiced in his cold way, and went on with hisphotography, saying, 'The game progresses, captain.'

  'Game? Call it Divine Comedy, rather!' said the soldier exultingly.

  'He is practically banished for a year or more. What can't you do in ayear, captain!'

  Havill, in the meantime, having respectfully withdrawn from the presenceof Paula, passed by Dare and De Stancy in the gallery as he had donein entering. He spoke a few words to Dare, who congratulated him. Whilethey were talking somebody was heard in the hall, inquiring hastily forMr. Havill.

  'What shall I tell him?' demanded the porter.

  'His wife is dead,' said the messenger.

  Havill overheard the words, and hastened away.

  'An unlucky man!' said Dare.

  'That, happily for us, will not affect his installation here,' said DeStancy. 'Now hold your tongue and keep at a distance. She may come thisway.'

  Surely enough in a few minutes she came. De Stancy, to makeconversation, told her of the new misfortune which had just befallen Mr.Havill.

  Paula was very sorry to hear it, and remarked that it gave her greatsatisfaction to have appointed him as architect of the first wing beforehe learnt the bad news. 'I owe you best thanks, Captain De Stancy, forshowing me such an expedient.'

  'Do I really deserve thanks?' asked De Stancy. 'I wish I deserved areward; but I must bear in mind the fable of the priest and the jester.'

  'I never heard it.'

  'The jester implored the priest for alms, but the smallest sum wasrefused, though the holy man readily agreed to give him his blessing.Query, its value?'

  'How does it apply?'

  'You give me unlimited thanks, but deny me the tiniest substantialtrifle I desire.'

  'What persistence!' exclaimed Paula, colouring. 'Very well, if youWILL photograph my picture you must. It is really not worthy furtherpleading. Take it when you like.'

  When Paula was alone she seemed vexed with herself for having givenway; and rising from her seat she went quietly to the door of theroom containing the picture, intending to lock it up till furtherconsideration, whatever he might think of her. But on casting her eyesround the apartment the painting was gone. The captain, wisely takingthe current when it served, already had it in the gallery, where hewas to be seen bending attentively over it, arranging the lights anddirecting Dare with the instruments. On leaving he thanked her, and saidthat he had obtained a splendid copy. Would she look at it?

  Paula was severe and icy. 'Thank you--I don't wish to see it,' she said.

  De Stancy bowed and departed in a glow of triumph; satisfied,notwithstanding her frigidity, that he had compassed his immediate aim,which was that she might not be able to dismiss from her thoughts himand his persevering desire for the shadow of her face during the nextfour-and-twenty-hours. And his confidence was well founded: she couldnot.

  'I fear this Divine Comedy will be slow business for us, captain,' saidDare, who had heard her cold words.

  'O no!' said De Stancy, flushing a little: he had not been perceivingthat the lad had the measure of his mind so entirely as to gauge hisposition at any moment. But he would show no shamefacedness. 'Even if itis, my boy,' he answered, 'there's plenty of time before the other cancome.'

  At that hour and minute of De Stancy's remark 'the other,' to lookat him, seemed indeed securely shelved. He was sitting lonely in hischambers far away, wondering why she did not write, and yet hopingto hear--wondering if it had all been but a short-lived strain oftenderness. He knew as well as if it had been stated in words that herserious acceptance of him as a suitor would be her acceptance of him asan architect--that her schemes in love would be expressed in terms ofart; and conversely that her refusal of him as a lover would be neatlyeffected by her choosing Havill's plans for the castle, and returninghis own with thanks. The position was so clear: he was so well walled inby circumstances that he was absolutely helpless.

  To wait for the line that would not come--the letter saying that, asshe had desired, his was the design that pleased her--was still the onlything to do. The (to Somerset) surprising accident that the committee ofarchitects should have pronounced the designs absolutely equal in pointof merit, and thus have caused the final choice to revert after all toPaula, had been a joyous thing to him when he first heard of it, fullof confidence in her favour. But the fact of her having again becomethe arbitrator, though it had made acceptance of his plans all the moreprobable, made refusal of them, should it happen, all the more crushing.He could have conceived himself favoured by Paula as her lover, even hadthe committee decided in favour of Havill as her architect. But not tobe chosen as architect now was to be rejected in both kinds.