The Road to Paris: A Story of Adventure

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE DEVIL TO PAY AT THE PELICAN INN.

  The lady, on seeing herself observed, immediately disappeared, andclosed her door. Dick imparted his discovery to Lord George, whothereupon sent his man Wilkins to inquire of the servants who the ladywas. Wilkins returned with the information, obtained from an inn maidwho had quizzed the lady's own man-servant, that the lady was MissEnglefield, Sir Hilary Englefield's sister, returning to her brother'sseat near Reading, to escape the attentions of a very wealthy gentlemanwho had pursued her at Bath.

  "Why, I know Sir Hilary," cried Lord George. "Wilkins, you will takethis message to Miss Englefield at once. Say to her that I have learnedshe is here, and that, supposing she must have heard her brother speakof me, though I have never had the honor and pleasure of meeting her, Isend my most respectful compliments and will do myself the happiness ofwaiting upon her in the public parlor. Make haste, Wilkins! Come,Wetheral,--damn it, your hair is all right! We shall probably have thejoy of supping with these ladies."

  Dick hastened down to the parlor with his lordship and waited in a verypleasant trepidation. Wilkins soon came with the answer that MissEnglefield would give herself the honor, etc. "She seemed at first quitetook by surprise, my lord," added Wilkins, "and repeated the nameEnglefield after me, as if to make me think there was a mistake and shewasn't that lady. But she whispered awhile with the other lady, and thengave me the answer."

  "If she is really running away from some obnoxious suitor, she wouldquite naturally wish to hide her name," commented Lord George to Dick;and then a rustle of skirts heralded the entrance of the lady and hercompanion themselves.

  While introductions were being made, the four people became so groupedthat Wetheral found himself near Miss Englefield, an advantage he wasquite ready to keep when it had come through circumstance, although hewould not with premeditation have competed for it with Lord George. Hislordship, noting the circumstance with a smile partly of reproach andpartly of resignation, accepted with good grace the place of partner tothe other lady, Miss Thorpe, whom Miss Englefield addressed asCelestine. Thus coupled, the new acquaintances talked of the crowdedstate of the inns, the excellence of the weather and roads, the seasonat Bath (Dick learned with ineffable relief that Miss Englefield'sdeparture had occurred before his ejection from the Rooms), and suchmatters.

  It was agreed presently, on Lord George's proposal, that the four shouldsup together in a corner of their own in the dining-room; and Dick therecontrived to retain his post as cavalier to Miss Englefield, with whomhe became more entranced at every commonplace utterance from her daintylips, every meaningless glance from her soft eyes, every change ofexpression of her girlish face, every insignificant sigh, everyoccasionless laugh.

  Her manner was generally that of a woman under some kind of anxiety orsuspense, from which she found relief in a half timid, half recklessabandonment to gaiety; she was like a schoolgirl on some feminine lark,entirely novel to her, to which some severity had driven her for relief,yet of which she was constantly in terror.

  In the parlor, after supper, Wetheral's supposed travels beingmentioned, he led up to the highly original remark, spoken with a mostmeaning look, "But of all women, I'll swear the finest I have seen arein England,--nay, I must say, _is_ in England!" The charming blush withwhich she received this extremely subtle compliment encouraged Dick tofurther efforts in the same strain, for the conversation of the two hadnow fallen to a tone inaudible to Lord George and Miss Thorpe. These, ontheir side, sat at some distance, deep in a masked contest arising fromthe haughty Celestine's declared invulnerability to any man's attack,and from Lord George's complacent conviction that he could make a swiftconquest of any woman without even seriously exerting himself.

  This game, between the irresistible and the immovable, enabled Wetheraland Miss Englefield to proceed unwatched through a flirtation's firststages, so delicious to the participants, so insipid to third persons.Silly as their talk was, it derived unutterable charm from the low tonesin which it was spoken, the ardent looks and suppressed agitation ofDick, the furtive glances and demure blushes of Miss Englefield. At lastthe silence of the inn, and the shortened state of the candles, broke upthe reluctant quartette, and the ladies said good night, leaving Dick onthe outer threshold of his paradise, and Lord George at the firstmanoeuvre in his campaign against the composure of Celestine.

  "By the lord," cried Wetheral in ecstasy, when he and Lord George werealone together, "did you ever see a more heavenly creature? She'sdivine, she's perfect, and her name is Amabel, as lovely as herself! Shetold me it, and she told me, too, almost in as many words, that heraffections were not engaged--previously. Amabel! Could any name fit anywoman better?"

  "Come, come," said Lord George, "it's bedtime. I must sleep wellto-night, and look my best to-morrow, for I've a conquest to make."

  "'Fore gad, I sha'n't sleep at all!" cried Dick. "I've been made aconquest of!"

  But he followed his friend up-stairs, where he found the latter slightlymeditative and absent, a circumstance that would have held his attentionhad not his mind been full of other thoughts. Dick looked out of thewindow, at the inn garden. It was a perfect night, with a gloriousmoonlight. Dick could never go to bed in his present mood. He longed towalk, to revel in the moonlight, which was all his own, now that therest of the world was asleep. If he could but pace beneath her window!That window also, being in line with his own, looked out on the garden.Between the two windows was that of the corridor, and beneath this therewas a rear door leading to the garden, which door was flanked by avine-clad trellis.

  "I'm going for a stroll in the garden," said Dick, suddenly, to LordGeorge, who was already in bed. "I sha'n't want a candle to go to bedby."

  He thereupon stepped from his window to the trellis, and descendedthereby to the ground, heedless of the impeding vines. Amabel's windowwas already dark, as his own became a moment later. The garden slopedgently, between a wall and a hedge, to the Kennet, which reflected themoon between shadows of over-arching boughs. With its small trees, itsbushes and flowers, its solitary bench, and its clear spaces of shortgrass, all made beautiful and mysterious by the moonlight, its springodors, and the murmur of the stream, the place seemed to Dick like someItalian garden, and he imagined himself Romeo gazing up at Juliet'sbalcony.

  In the midst of this fancy, he was rudely brought back to England by thesound of wheels and horse, and of voices speaking guardedly in veryun-Italian accents, in the inn coach-yard beyond the wall that boundedone side of the garden. The sounds came to a stop, and the gate of thewall opened cautiously, whereupon Dick stepped into the shadow of thetrellis flanking the rear doorway. Through the gateway he could see arickety coach, of which the door was open and from about which there nowstepped stealthily into the garden four ill-clad, desperate-lookingfellows, one wearing a cloak about his lank body and stifling a cough ashe walked, another carrying a large handkerchief in his hand, two othersawkwardly bearing a ladder.

  "'Tis all clear," said the cloaked individual. "Quick work, captain,now! That's the room." And he pointed to the window of Amabel.

  Dick gave a violent start. What could be the purpose, concerning herchamber, of these birds of ill omen, who, doubtless through thecollusion of some inn servant, had driven so secretly into thecoach-yard at this hour? He decided to wait, that he might, beforeinterfering, discover their plans.

  The two ladder-bearers, at a whisper from the man with the handkerchief,placed the ladder to the window. The captain--a title which Dick guessedin this case to indicate a highwayman rather than a gentleman of war orsea--mounted with agility, and disappeared through the window, followedby one of the men. The cloaked fellow stood holding the ladder, and theother went to the gate to keep watch.

  Dick, thinking it high time to take a hand, looked about for a weapon,and, seeing nothing else, finally pulled a stout cross-piece from thetrellis. By this time the expeditious captain had reappeared at the topof the ladder, bearing the swooning form of Amab
el, whose possiblescreams he had provided against with the handkerchief. His assistantfollowed him down the ladder, to give aid should the nimble captain'sburden prove too heavy.

  Dick ran forward with a threatening shout, and brought his extemporizedcudgel down on the skull of the man in the cloak; at the same time thererose, in the chamber above, loud cries of "Help!" from Celestine, whohad just awakened to what was going on. The sudden rush and noisetook the enemy by surprise. The man attacked by Dick made for the gate,leaving his cloak in the hands of his assailant, who had mechanicallyclutched it. The captain's principal assistant leaped from the ladder,and followed with all speed to the gate, while the man on watchscrambled to the seat on the coach and whipped the horses to a gallop.The captain, seeing himself deserted, dropped Amabel as soon as hereached the bottom of the ladder, drew a pistol, and made ready for afight over her body. But Dick clubbed the pistol from his hand,whereupon the captain, with merely an ejaculation of annoyance, turnedand fled after his retreating forces.

  "BEARING THE SWOONING FORM OF AMABEL."]

  Dick picked up the fainting Amabel, and carried her to the garden bench,whereon he placed her in a sitting attitude, and put the captured cloakabout her, lest in her fragile night-dress she might be chilled.Meanwhile Celestine's cries had not abated, and suddenly Dick, whiletrying to fan Miss Englefield back to recovery with his hat, beheld LordGeorge emerge from the gentlemen's window, in night-gown and coat, dropto the ground, rush up the ladder, and plunge into the chamber whencethe shouts for aid continued to issue. Lord George, in his haste to therescue, had not noticed Dick and Amabel in the garden.

  At last the tender creature on the bench gently stirred, feebly openedher eyes, and faintly asked where she was. Dick immediately enlightenedher. She appeared astonished at what had befallen, and murmured,reflectively, "I shouldn't have thought he would take that way of doingit," then checked herself as if she had said too much. Dick supposed shealluded to the rich suitor, and that the attempted abduction was thework of that person. He could not enough thank heaven for having enabledhim to be her preserver, and he sat by her side, on the bench, while sheremained wrapped in the cloak, apparently too prostrated by the recentoccurrence to return immediately to her chamber.

  And now was the time for a romantic love scene, suitable to the youthand beauty of the two participants, to the charm of the surroundings, tothe May night, the moonlight, the odor of flowers, the ripple of thestream, and the preceding circumstances of the interview; and doubtlessthe conversation was poetic enough to the two who engaged in it, thanksto all these matters and to the glances, low tones of agitation,suppressed fervor, tremblings, etc.; but the talk in itself was no moreoriginal or impassioned than this:

  "I'm glad you aren't hurt," said she.

  "It would be a happiness to carry forever a wound received in such acause,--'pon honor, it would!" said he.

  "Will they come back, do you think? I sha'n't be able to sleep, the restof the night, for fear of them!"

  "You have nothing to fear. I shall keep guard under your window allnight."

  "Oh, no, sir! You will take cold."

  "I cannot. I shall be on fire. My heart will glow with your image, whichhas occupied it ever since I saw you before the inn at Marlboroyesterday."

  "Why, did you notice me then? I saw you looking out of the window, and Isaid to Celestine, 'What a frank and generous face! If my--if someperson were but like that!'"

  "You said that, really,--and meant it,--and mean it still?"

  "Why, to be sure, how could I mean it less, after all that has happenedto-night?"

  He now plunged deep into ardent love-making, at which she seemed to beboth frightened and, in spite of herself, pleased. Not making any directresponse, she began to sound him as to his character and opinions, hisviews on matters pertaining to love and propriety and honorable conduct,and finally as to whether he would deem a love between a married and asingle person, under any possible circumstances, justifiable. Hedeclared that, for his part, he would never make love to a marriedwoman, that he would rob no man, nor injure any in a matter sosacred,--excepting possibly one man, to whom he owed the keenest ofrevenges, Mr. Bullcott, of Bullcott Hall, Somersetshire. At thisdeclaration, an unaccountable strange look--astonishment mingled withsecret elation--overspread her face. "Why do you look so?" inquiredDick.

  Before she could answer, there came from the ladies' chamber, whence thecries had for some time ceased to issue, the sound of several slaps andcuffs in close succession. An instant later the figure of Lord George,in coat and night-gown, came swiftly through the window and dropped tothe ground.

  "Damn all affected prudery!" muttered his lordship, holding his hand tohis cheek, and then clambered up the trellis to his own window.

  At the same time, Celestine appeared at the other window, and thelandlord, having first gone to her door and been informed by her thatthe garden was full of house-breakers and kidnappers, came from the inndoor, followed by two servants, while a detachment of the town watch,summoned by another servant, entered by the wall gate from thecoach-yard.

  Thus interrupted, Dick had to make explanations, and to hasten Amabel'sreturn to her chamber by way of the inn door. He then returned to thegarden to carry out his purpose of guarding her window the rest of thenight, and there found one of the watchmen charged with the same duty,two others having captured the ladder and very carefully carried it offto preserve as evidence.

  Despite what blissful thoughts Dick had to entertain himself with, henow found it harder to remain awake than it had been when he was onsentry duty in freezing Canada. Relying at last on the watchman who satin the inn doorway, Dick at last succumbed to sleep, on the bench, wherehe did not awake till dawn. The watchman also slumbered through thenight, and, had the abductors so elected, they might, with due skill andcaution, have carried off not only the lovely Amabel, but Dick and thewatchman as well.

  The watchman was the first to awake; hence Dick, assuming that all waswell, returned to his chamber, refreshed himself with a bath, and puthis clothes in order. By the time this was accomplished, Wilkins havingcome to attend the gentlemen, Lord George was up, and in his usual goodhumor as to everything but Celestine. Her resistance to his attractionshe pronounced an odious affectation, which he should certainly take outof the woman, if only for her own sake, for he admitted she had somegood points.

  Lord George and Dick had scarcely finished dressing, when there came aviolent knock on the door of their parlor, heralding the boisterousentrance of a stout, ruddy-faced young gentleman with a decidedfox-hunting look, who thrust out his hand to Lord George, and blurtedout:

  "Why, damme, my lord, don't you know me? By gad, you ought to, formany's the finish we've been in at together, us two!"

  "Why, certainly, Sir Hilary! Welcome! Sir Hilary Englefield, Mr.Wetheral."

  Dick bowed, and surveyed critically the brother of Miss Englefield.

  "There's the devil to pay somewhere, or else I'm on a wild goose chase,"went on Sir Hilary, beating his riding-boot with his whip. "A rascalensign, as he calls himself, wakes up my house in the middle of thenight, and gives me a letter that he says, being on the way to London,he agreed to carry from a ragged wench he met at the Pelican here. Theletter turns out to be from a girl that once served in our house butfell into bad ways and ran off with a damned drunken lawyer. It tells ofa plot of some scoundrel, whom she doesn't name, to have my sistercarried off from this inn last night by the gang of rogues the wench istravelling with. Well, I up and ride from t'other side of Reading toNewbury, twenty miles, like the very devil, and when I get here, the innpeople say my sister left the inn yesterday. They tell me another ladywas nearly kidnapped from the room Sis had occupied, but you and anothergentleman prevented. So I said, 'I'll run up and pay my respects to hislordship,' and, now I've done that, I must be off and look in the otherinns for Sister. I didn't know she was coming back from Bath so soon."

  "But," said Lord George, detaining Sir Hilary, "your sister is here. Itw
as she that Wetheral protected. There must have been some mistakebetween you and the inn people. What I say is true, I assure you.Learning Miss Englefield was here, I made myself known to her, and sheand her friend passed the evening with Wetheral and me."

  "Oh, then, the fool of a landlord was fuddled, I dare say. Egad, sinceSis is here, we'll all crack a bottle together. We'll have breakfasttogether. My belly aches with emptiness."

  "Excellent!" said Lord George. They were now in that one of their tworooms which served as parlor; it adjoined the bedchamber, which was theroom whose window overlooked the garden. Besides the door between thetwo, each room had a door opening to the corridor. "We can have thetable set here in this room, now that you are with us," continued LordGeorge, "and be as merry as we please."

  "So we shall," cried Sir Hilary; "and, meanwhile, I'll have my horse putaway. I always see with my own eyes how my beasts are cared for." Thebaronet then, evidently satisfied at hearing from others of hissister's safety, ran down-stairs; while Lord George, having sent Wilkinsto order the breakfast, went out to walk for an appetite, Dick remainingto add some finishing touches to his toilet.

  Presently hearing light footfalls and the swish of skirts in thecorridor, and recalling that the ladies had not yet been notified of SirHilary's arrival and of the plan for the breakfast party, Dick hastenedout from his bedchamber, greeted them both, and said, "I have pleasantnews for you, Miss Englefield; your brother, Sir Hilary, has arrived,and--ah, that is he at the foot of the stairs! He will be up in amoment."

  This announcement had the most astonishing effect on Amabel. She cast apanic-stricken look around, and then sought refuge through the firstopen doorway, which she closed after her, and could be heard turning thekey inside. The door happened to be that of Wetheral and Lord George'sbedchamber.

  Sir Hilary, who had not seen this flight, now arrived in the corridor,and looked first at Celestine, then inquiringly at Wetheral. Surprisedat Sir Hilary's not recognizing his sister's friend, Dick was for amoment silent; then he proceeded, in some embarrassment, to make the twoacquainted.

  "Sir Hilary must often have heard his sister speak of her friend,Celestine Thorpe," said that lady, who also seemed not entirely at ease.

  "Thorpe? Celestine?" repeated Sir Hilary, making the, to him, unusualeffort of searching his memory. "No, I can't say--unless you were thegirl that went to school with Sis, that she got me to write letters to.I forget that girl's name."

  "Why, 'twas Celestine Thorpe," said the lady.

  "So 'twas, now I think on't. Well, well, how Sis used to plague me, tomake me answer your letters, to be sure! It seems the girls at yourschool had read some novel or such book, Palemia, or Pamelia, or somename or other, that got you to pestering all your own relations and oneanother's with letters. I never used to read yours through, but Sisterwould make me answer 'em, ne'ertheless."

  At this point Lord George returned, and, on his invitation, the fourwent into the parlor of the two gentlemen, Dick hastily closing the doorbetween parlor and bedchamber, and Miss Thorpe telling the others, witha look half pleading and half threatening at Dick, that Miss Englefieldwould join them soon. Servants now came and laid a table for breakfast,under Wilkins's direction. Wine being brought, Sir Hilary fell upon itimmediately, pleading his long ride in excuse. Meanwhile Dick, mystifiedat the conduct of Amabel, supposed she would now use the opportunity togo from the bedchamber to the corridor; and wondered how long she woulddefer meeting her brother.

  Those in the parlor, while the table was being made ready, were groupedabout the window, which looked out from the side of the inn; Miss Thorpeseated, Lord George at her one elbow, Sir Hilary at the other. Thefox-hunter, repeating frequently his glass of wine, from a bottle on anear-by side-table, became rapidly more gay and familiar, especiallytowards Celestine, whose former characteristics he now proceeded torecall. At this, Lord George began to show irritation, while the lady'sown composure was far from increased.

  "Lord," said the baronet, looking mirthful at the recollection, "whatsoft stuff it was, in the letters you used to plague me with! I said toSis one day, 'I've heard as how girls at boarding-schools pine forgentlemen's society and go crazy to be made love to,' I said, 'but Inever fancied one of 'em to have such a coming-on disposition asCelestine has.' Lord, Lord, 'twas a tender soul!"

  This was going beyond the endurance alike of Celestine, whose presentcharacter was so different from that ascribed to the baronet's formercorrespondent, and of Lord George, who felt doubly chafed to think thattenderness denied him had been heaped upon another. Miss Thorpe turnedcrimson under his look. Having to vent his anger on some one, hislordship naturally chose the reminiscent fox-hunter.

  "Is it a Berkshire custom, sir," queried Lord George, heatedly, "totreat the confidence of ladies in this manner?"

  Sir Hilary, after a moment of bewilderment, disavowed the leastintention to offend, but his own tone showed a decided resentment ofLord George's. This fact did not make his lordship's reply any sweeter,and the upshot of their brief but swift verbal passage was that SirHilary departed in high dudgeon, saying he would find his sister andstart for home at once. Dick slipped quietly into the bedchamber, and,to his surprise, found Amabel still there.

  "Why didn't you go out that way," he whispered, pointing to the corridordoor, "while we were in the parlor?"

  "I was afraid of being seen," she answered; "the servants have beenpassing to and fro outside the door; so I locked it," and she handed himthe key, which he took thoughtlessly, his own confusion being like thatwhich had made her take the key from the door after locking it.

  "Would it not be best to go out now, while the way is clear," said he,"and meet your brother, who has gone down-stairs to inquire for you?"

  "No, no!" she exclaimed; "I cannot--I dare not! Oh, sir, that gentlemanis _not_ my brother!"

  This, then, explained her former flight from Sir Hilary's sight;explained also why Sir Hilary's description of the letter-writer was soat variance with the character of Miss Thorpe, who had been forced intothe role of his sister's friend by a desire to support Amabel. Littlewonder that Celestine was enraged, or that now, left alone in the parlorwith Lord George, she sought refuge from his sarcastic silence in anunceremonious retreat to her own chamber! Lord George, with no appetitefor the breakfast, which Wilkins at this moment announced to be ready,took up his hat, and flung out for another walk. As he passed thetap-room door, he heard Sir Hilary vociferously declaiming to thelandlord within.

  It thus fell out that Dick, looking cautiously in from the otherchamber, saw the parlor deserted, Wilkins having rushed after hismaster. Dick instantly beckoned Amabel into the parlor, where it was notlikely Sir Hilary would return. He offered her a chair; but shepreferred to stand, resting one hand on the table, while she explained:

  "When we arrived at the inn, we were shown to the room another lady hadvacated a few minutes earlier. As Celestine took pains to learn thismorning, on account of things that have happened since we came here,that lady was Miss Englefield. When we received Lord George's message,and found he thought one of us was Miss Englefield, and that he hadnever seen her, I thought it would be amusing to keep up the mistake.Miss Thorpe opposed it, but I longed so to imagine for a time I wassomebody else, I wouldn't listen to her. Of course, after the deceptionwas begun, she wouldn't betray me. Well, I couldn't endure to be exposedby others, so I ran from Miss Englefield's brother. You will think meterribly wicked, won't you, sir?"

  "Why, 'twas a most innocent, harmless jest," protested Mr. Wetheral,gallantly. "If there were any blame, it would belong to Lord George andme, for our impertinence in having Wilkins inquire who the beautifullady was. His informant, it seems, didn't know Miss Englefield had leftand another taken her place. We have now but to send for Miss Thorpe--ifshe _is_ Miss Thorpe--"

  "Oh, yes, there was no deception as to Celestine's name."

  "And as to your own first name?" Dick was slightly apprehensive.

  "That was given truly. It is Amabel." Dick
was rejoiced.

  "Amabel!" he repeated. "Then that is the only name by which at thismoment I know you. 'Tis the loveliest name, and the most fitting one, Iswear! If you would but make it needless, as far as concerns my callingyou by name, that I should ever know any other! If you would but giveme the right to call you by that name alone!"

  "Give you the right?" said she in a low voice, and with downcast eyes."As how?"

  "As by your mere permission."

  "After what you know?" Her voice was barely audible, her manneragitated.

  "What do you mean?" asked Dick.

  "That I am not the person I pretended to be."

  "What difference does that make? Are you any less charming? 'ForeGeorge, what's in a name,--unless it be Amabel?"

  "'Tis not a mere matter of names. You remember what you said lastnight--"

  "Yes--whatever it was, it all meant that you were adorable, and I meanthat now a thousand times over!" He took her hand, which she did notwithdraw from him.

  "But you said something," she went on, in a voice yet lower and moreunsteady, "of married persons and single,--of not injuring a man in amatter so sacred,--you remember?"

  "Why, yes,--I--"

  "But you said there might be one exception--"

  "Yes, I remember. Squire Bullcott, a Somerset gentleman. I owe him avery bitter revenge."

  "Well, then,--if revenge and--love--both pointed to the samething,--what then?"

  He looked at her a moment; while she stood crimson, motionless, scarcelybreathing, her eyes averted. Then he let go her hand.

  "My God, madam, does it mean that you are--Mr. Bullcott's wife?"

  "Yes," and now she spoke with rapidity and more force, "and that I haveendured such treatment from him as I could bear no longer. Insolence,blows, neglect, imprisonment even, for he is as jealous as he isfaithless, and has tried to hide me from all society, having me guardedby brutal servants of his own choosing, making me a captive in my ownapartments, and keeping me under lock and key while he pursued hisamours elsewhere. What could I do? I was an only child, without nearrelations: my parents died soon after arranging my marriage, which wasagainst my own wishes. At last I learned, through some careless talk ofmy husband's, that Celestine was at Bath. She was my only friend. Icontrived to get a letter to her, and she planned my escape. She waitedat night in a private coach, near Bullcott Hall, while I got out of thehouse in the clothes of a chambermaid who was asleep. I ran to a placeshe had appointed, and there I found her footman on the park wall, witha ladder; he helped me across, and to her coach. We took a roundaboutway to the London road, so as to avoid Bath; and when you met us we wereon our way to Celestine's house in Oxfordshire, intending I should keepconcealed there, for I am determined to die rather than go back to myhusband!"

  She now stood silent, as if she had placed the situation and herself inWetheral's hands, to dispose of as he might choose. Manifestly she hadmet very few men, seen nothing of the world; she was still a child,ready to entrust her whole destiny to the first flatterer whose tenderspeeches had won her heart.

  Dick was not slow in making up his mind.

  "You spoke of love and revenge, madam," said he, gently. "They arestrong passions, and I have been strongly urged by them the last fewmoments. But we will resist them,--not for his sake, but for yours--andmine. Before you start for Oxfordshire, I shall have started for London.I wish you a pleasant and safe journey, and a long and happy life.Good-by!"

  Before she could answer, there came from the corridor the noise of heavyfeet rushing up the stairs, and the words loudly bellowed:

  "I'll find the room, never fear, that will I!"

  "My husband!" whispered Amabel, the picture of sudden fright. "If hefinds me here, he will kill me!"

  "He'll not do that, I promise you!" said Dick. "But, ne'ertheless, hemustn't see you!"

  For it was indeed this very parlor that the footfalls were approaching.Dick led the terrified wife back into the bedchamber, and returnedinstantly to the parlor, in time to see Squire Bullcott burst in fromthe corridor. Dick had not yet closed the bedchamber door, and he nowleft it slightly ajar, remembering his experience in the St. Valierhouse in Quebec, and thinking by this negligence to disarm suspicion.The Squire was followed by the two faithful henchmen who had used Dickviolently twice in the past.

  At sight of Wetheral, the Squire stood aghast. Dick was near thebedchamber door. On the floor beside him was an open portmanteau, verylong, in which lay, among clothes, a dress sword of Lord George's. Dickstooped and took up this pretty weapon, as if merely to examine itsjewelled hilt.

  "What, you cur!" cried Bullcott, as soon as he had got breath. "So 'tisyou she ran away with! So you thought to revenge yourself on me byseducing my wife!"

  "Mr. Bullcott is too hasty to vilify that angelic but mistreated lady,"said Dick, quietly, but with scorn as fine as the edge of the sword hewas feeling.

  "Hear the mongrel! He'd come over me with talk like a fine gentleman'sin a play! The base-born impostor! He's got the woman hid somewhereabout!"

  "You can see for yourself that you lie!" said Dick, with a swift lookaround the parlor.

  "She's in that other room," cried Bullcott, truly. "She ain't in her ownchamber, and she _is_ with you. I paid a chambermaid a guinea to tell meso, and what you pay a guinea for can't be false. Look ye, Curry!" TheSquire whispered a few words to one of his followers, and that one atonce left the room. "Now, Pike, go ahead and knock that rascal down, andthen I'll go in and catch her. I'll show--zounds and blood! Sir HilaryEnglefield!"

  It was indeed the voice of the fox-hunting baronet, and as it approachedthe parlor door, making a great hullabaloo, it seemed to throw theformidable Bullcott into a panic.

  "Did the knaves that bungled last night's business sell me out to him, Iwonder?" queried Squire Bullcott of his remaining adherent. Dick had asudden illumination. 'Twas Squire Bullcott that had persecuted MissEnglefield at Bath, planned her abduction while his own wife wasavailing herself of his absence to run away from him, and nearlysucceeded in kidnapping his own wife by mistake! His present terror ofSir Hilary, then, arose from the possibility that Sir Hilary had learnedof the Squire's design against that baronet's sister.

  But that terror proved ill-grounded. When Sir Hilary bounced into theparlor, he greeted the now quaking Bullcott with a single friendly wordand bow, showing he knew not yet who had instigated the kidnapping; andthen turned his wrath on Wetheral. The landlord, who had tried toprevent his entrance, had followed him in, and now made futile effortsto avoid a scandalous scene.

  "What the devil do you mean," cried Sir Hilary to Dick, "by sending meoff on a wild goose chase after my sister, when you have her in thatroom? Don't deny it, you scoundrel! Put down that sword, I say! What,you'd try to run me through, would you? You'd save my sister from beingcarried off by some damned hound" (Squire Bullcott, now utterlyastounded, winced at this) "and then reward yourself by trying to ruinthe girl yourself?"

  "So it is your sister in that room?" said Dick, standing with his backto the bedchamber door, and holding his sword in a way that accountedfor the wordy hesitation of his would-be assailants. "The Squire insistsit is his wife. Sure, it can't be both!"

  "Damn the Squire!" cried Sir Hilary. "'Tis my sister. She's nowhereelse, and I paid a chambermaid half a guinea, who told me she was here!"

  "Don't be so fast about damning the Squire!" put in that worthy, takingheart and bristling up. "I paid a whole guinea to find out my wife wasthere. So it must be she! Besides, didn't the coachman that drove hersend word back to me, from this inn, that she was running away? Didn'tthe messenger meet me at Hungerford, where I was--ah--on business? Itell you what, Sir Hilary, you and my man take that fellow's sword away,and I'll go in and see my wife!"

  "Devil take your wife!" said Sir Hilary. "'Tis my sister. I see her gownat this moment through the door-crack. I know that gown. There,--she'smoved backed out of sight. Sis, come out!"

  "'Pon my word, gentlemen," said Dick, pretending to make
light of theaccusations of both, "'tis a very curious honor you are contesting for!And one of you sees a lady's gown where none exists! I don't know whatto make of you!"

  But Bullcott seemed struck by Sir Hilary's asserted recognition of thedress. "Oh, well," said he, "maybe I'm wrong. Sir Hilary doubtless knowswhat inn his sister lodged at last night. Egad, if it turns out to beher, mayhap some folk won't be so prudish after this!" The Squiregrinned to think the lady who had repulsed him, and whom he had failedto carry off, might be compromised after all.

  "What's that? What d'ye say?" cried Sir Hilary. "So my sister has beenprudish to _you_, you old goat! Well she might! I know your ways;everybody does! Well, if it comes to that, I don't say it is my sisterin that room! I don't say the landlord wasn't right, and that my sisterdidn't leave this inn yesterday. But I do say this, and to you, sir."Sir Hilary spoke now to Dick. "You see how my sister's good name is atstake. If the lady in that room isn't she, then my sister is an honestgirl, and doesn't deserve the least doubt against her reputation.Whoever the lady is, 'tis evident as much can't be said for her.Therefore, to exonerate an innocent lady, 'tis your duty the guilty oneshall be made to show herself, before all in this room. That's onlyfair, sir! Better than two ladies suffer reproach, let the one thatmerits it appear and clear the other! Then we shall know whether 'tis myright or Bullcott's to fight you. For there _is_ one lady in that room,I'll swear!" Sir Hilary had become quite sober and dignified.

  That Sir Hilary's sister should suffer for a moment in her reputationwas, of course, a thought intolerable to Dick. Yet he must save Amabelat any cost. The actual truth, if he told it, would be taken as a lameexcuse for her presence in the bedchamber. By the pig-headed Squire, themere fact that his wife had fled to Dick's room to avoid exposure wouldbe regarded as evidence of criminality. Yet how could such a plea as SirHilary's be refused?

  "Come, sir!" said the baronet.

  At that moment a new face appeared in the doorway, that of a young ladyof graceful figure, piquant visage, and very fine gray eyes. These eyesrested on Sir Hilary alone, thus missing Squire Bullcott, who, at firstsight of the lady, flopped down on all fours behind the breakfast-table,a movement unnoticed while the general attention was on the newcomer.

  "Why, Brother, so you are really here? Wilson saw you ride past the innat Thatcham this morning, and we supposed you were coming to the Pelicanto meet me; so I drove back after you."

  "Give me a buss, Sis!" cried Sir Hilary, who had already grasped bothher hands and shown every sign of joy. "'Fore gad, you came in goodtime! So 'tisn't you in the next room! A thousand pardons, Mr. Wetheral!But what were you doing at Thatcham, Sis?"

  "Why," replied Miss Englefield, "'tis a long story. At this inn,yesterday afternoon, a maid brought me a letter scrawled by JennyMullen, who used to serve at the Hall. It seems she is now attached to agang of rogues that were hired to make trouble for me at this inn lastnight. So she warned me in secret to leave quietly. She begged me to saynothing to the landlord or the watch, lest her companions might becaught. So I went on and lay at Thatcham, and that is how Wilsonhappened to see you galloping hither this morning. Poor Jenny promisedto keep the rascals drinking in the tap-room, so they should not learnof my departure, and she must have kept her promise."

  "Thank the Lord, she must have!" said Sir Hilary. "But how the devil didthey know you were going to lodge here last night?"

  "Why, my girl, Sukey, confessed this morning that in Bath she made theacquaintance of a so-called captain, to whom she told the plan we hadarranged for our journey. It seems from Jenny's letter that the rogueswere to carry me off to a country-seat near Whitchurch in Hampshire;their employer--odious beast--was to lie last night at Hungerford, andfollow to-day to Whitchurch."

  "Zounds! You shall tell me all about it, Sis, on the way home, and we'llsee what's to be done. Come away from this inn! It seems there's beenthe devil to pay here, in more matters than one. Good day, sir!" SirHilary thereupon led his sister quickly out, with barely a thought ofthe apparent absence of Squire Bullcott, who indeed might have slippedoff while the baronet was engrossed with his sister.

  The Squire now rose into view, very red and very much perturbed. Heglanced first at his man and the landlord, who both had been keeping inthe background during Miss Englefield's presence, then at Dick, whostill guarded the bedchamber door.

  "Then, since it ain't his sister, by God, it must be my wife!" whinedBullcott, who, like many another person capable of doing any wrong, wasquick to whimper on supposing himself injured. "I'll expose her, I'llkill her, that will I! Landlord, send for constables! Oh, the faithlesswoman, and the vile seducer! To think a gentleman can't go off to attendto--a little business, but his wife must take a dirty, low advantage ofhis absence, to run off with a base-born rascal! Send for constables,landlord, to force a way into that room!"

  "The landlord well knows," put in Dick, thinking of another ruse ofCatherine de St. Valier's in Quebec, "that there is no lady in thisroom. Why, if a lady had been there, don't you suppose she'd have goneout long ago by the other door" (Dick remembered here that the otherdoor was locked and the key in his own hand), "or by the window, fromwhich even a woman could easily descend by the trellis to the garden?"

  But the Squire continued to cry for constables, and Dick continued todetain the landlord by one remark and another. Keeping his ear on thealert, he presently heard the window in the bedchamber softly open, andhe inferred that Amabel had taken his loud-spoken hint as he himself hadonce vainly accepted that of Catherine de St. Valier. By keeping hissword-point constantly in evidence, he deterred the Squire and thelatter's man from a rush. The landlord, considering this guest was thefriend of a lord, would take no step whatever, and Bullcott chose tokeep his own man with him for protection, so there was none to summonthe minions of the law.

  At last Dick, fearing that Miss Thorpe might at any moment enter, andher presence certify to that of Amabel, said he had played with theSquire long enough, and would now let the latter scan the bedchamberfrom the threshold. Dick, confident that Amabel would have actedpromptly at so important a crisis, supposed she had some time agoreached the garden, whence she might have gone to her own chamber. Hetherefore flung wide the door, and disclosed--Amabel in the centre ofthe chamber, and the squire's man, Curry, perched on the window-ledge,to which he had climbed by the trellis from the garden, whither Bullcotthad sent him to watch the chamber window.

  The Squire, almost black with rage, started towards the bedroom. Dickinterposed in time to stay the burly figure's rush. The Squire steppedback and gathered strength for another effort, growling inarticulately.

  "Well, sir," said Dick, with assumed resignation, "I see the jig is up.The lady has refused to save me by flight. She remains, I see, asevidence against me. So, it seems, your wife was running away from you,Squire Bullcott? Well, I can't blame her, though I didn't know that whenI took her into my room by force."

  "By force?" gasped the Squire.

  "How can I deny it, when the lady herself is here to accuse me?" saidDick. "You'll admit the temptation was strong,--my door open, the ladypassing in the corridor, no one in sight, a devil of a noise in thetap-room to drown her screams,--not to mention that I threatened to killher if she cried out."

  "But why the deuce didn't she cry out when she heard me in this room?"queried Bullcott, partly addressing the silent Amabel.

  "For the rather poor reason," answered Dick, "that in such a case, as Ipromised her when I heard you coming, I should have killed, not her, butyou! And now, Squire, you see your wife's reputation remainsuntarnished; she is safe out of my hands, and if she can but make goodher escape from yours, she ought to be happy."

  "Escape from me? That won't she! She'd run away, would she? Well, nowshe'll run back, and stay back! D'ye hear, woman? Oh, some one shall payfor all this, that shall she! I'll show--"

  But the Squire showed only a sudden pallor and shakiness, for again washeard in the corridor the wrathful voice of Sir Hilary Englefield, thistime cou
pled with the excited tones of his sister, who was screamingout dissuasions.

  "So 'twas you, Bullcott, hired the rogues to carry off my sister!"roared the baronet, as he entered, whip in one hand, in the other apistol. "I thank God she told me the name before I or you was out of thetown! So you'd go to Whitchurch after her, would you? Well, you'll go,not after her, but alone; and not to Whitchurch, but to hell; you filthyold chaser of women! And you shall go with a sore skin, moreover!"

  Whereat the furious fox-hunter began to belabor the squire with thewhip, all the witnesses giving him plenty of room. Bullcott bellowed,whimpered, and cowered, leading the agile baronet a chase aroundfurniture and over it, deterred from a bolt by the presence of MissEnglefield's stout man-servant in the corridor doorway. Driven at lastto bay, his face and hands covered with welts, the Squire made adesperate bound and grasped the whip, wrenched it from the baronet'shand, and raised it to strike. As the blow was falling, Sir Hilary firedthe pistol. Bullcott fell, an inert mass.

  Sir Hilary conferred hastily with Dick, then led away his sister, sawher and her servants started homeward, and took horse by the Winchesterroad for the seaport of Portsmouth. Dick silently led the dazed Amabelto her own chamber, whence she and Miss Thorpe departed quietly ontheir way to Oxfordshire while Bullcott's servants were busy withpreparations for the care of the Squire's body. Dick then immediatelypacked up his and Lord George's portmanteaus, and took post-chaise forLondon as soon as Lord George and Wilkins returned to the inn, a largegratuity from Dick to the landlord enabling these four hasty departuresto be made before the town authorities were notified of the killing. Thepost-chaise left Speenhamland in the track of Miss Englefield's coachand Miss Thorpe's, but did not overtake either, all three parties makingthe utmost speed. Their three ways diverged at Reading, where Dick andLord George made a brief stop in the afternoon, to break their longfast.

  "Egad," quoth Lord George, to whom Dick had recounted all the morning'sincidents, "'twas a merry breakfast party we had at the Pelican in honorof Sir Hilary's arrival!"

  Dick heaved a sigh, eloquent of more than one regret, and was silent.