The Light of Scarthey: A Romance
CHAPTER XXI
THE DAWN OF AN EVENTFUL DAY
Rupert's behaviour at home, since his brother's wedding, had been, aseven Molly was bound to admit to herself, beyond reproach intactfulness, quiet dignity, and seeming cheerfulness.
He abdicated from his position of trust at once and without thesmallest reservation; wooed Madeleine with so great a discretion thather dreamy eyes saw in him only a kind relative; and he treated hissister-in-law, for all her freaks of bearing to him, with a perfectgentleness and gentility.
At times Sir Adrian would watch him with great eyes. What meant thischange? the guileless philosopher would ask himself, and wonder if hehad judged his brother too harshly all through life; or if it was hisplain speaking in their last quarrel which had put things in theirtrue light to him, and awakened some innate generosity of feeling; oryet if--this with misgiving--it was love for pretty Madeleine that wasworking the marvel. If so, how would this proud rebellious nature bearanother failure?
Rupert spoke with unaffected regret about leaving Pulwick, at the sametime, in spite of Molly's curling lip, giving it to be understood thathis removal was only a matter of time.
For the ostensible purpose, indeed, of finding himself another home hemade, in the beginning of March, the second month after his brother'smarriage, several absences which lasted a couple of days or more, andfrom which he would return with an eager sparkle in his eye, almost abrightness on his olive cheek, to sit beside Madeleine's embroideryframe, pulling her silks and snipping with her scissors, and talkinggaily, persistently, with such humour and colour as at last to drawthat young lady's attention from far off musings to his words withsmiles and laughter.
Meanwhile, Molly would sit unoccupied, brooding, watching them, nowfiercely, from under her black brows, now scornfully, nowabstractedly; the while she nibbled at her delicate finger-nails, orruthlessly dragged them along the velvet arms of her chair with thegesture of a charming, yet distracted, cat.
Sir Adrian would first tramp the rooms with unwitting restlessness,halting, it might be, beside his wife to strive to engage her intospeech with him; and, failing, would betake himself at length with aheavy sigh to solitude; or, yet, he would sit down to his organ--thenew one in the great hall which had been put up since his marriage, atMolly's own gay suggestion, during their brief betrothal--and musicwould peal out upon them till Lady Landale's stormy heart could bearit no longer, and she would rise in her turn, fly to the shelter ofher room and roll her head in the pillows to stifle the sound of sobs,crying from the depths of her soul against heaven's injustice; anonrailing in a frenzy of impotent anger against the musician, who hadsuch passion in him and gave it to his music alone.
During Rupert's absences that curious intimacy which Molly hadcontemptuously noted between her sister and sister-in-law displayeditself in more conspicuous manner.
Miss Landale's long sallow visage sported its airs of mystery andimportance, its languishing leers undisguisedly, so long as herbrother Rupert's place was empty; and though her visits to therector's grave were now almost quotidian, she departed upon them withlooks of wrapt importance, and, returning, sought Madeleine's chamber(when that maiden did not herself stroll out to meet her in thewoods), her countenance invariably wreathed with suppressed, yettriumphant smiles, instead of the old self-assertive dejection.
* * * * *
The 15th of March of that year was to be a memorable day in the livesof so many of those who then either dwelt in Pulwick, or had dealingson that wide estate.
Miss Landale, who had passed the midnight hour in poring over thedelightful wickedness of Lara, and, upon at length retiring to herpillow, had had a sentimental objection to shutting out the romanticlight of the moon by curtain or shutter, was roused into wakefulnesssoon after dawn by a glorious white burst of early sunshine. As arule, the excellent soul liked to lie abed till the last availablemoment; but that morning she was up with the sun. When dressed shedrew a letter from a secret casket with manifold precautions as thoughshe were surrounded with prying eyes, and, placing it in her reticule,hastened forth to seek the little lonely disused churchyard by theshore. She afterwards remarked that she could never forget in whatagitation of spirits and with what strange presentiment of evil shewas led to this activity at so unwonted an hour. The truth was,however, that Miss Landale tripped along through the damp wooded pathas gaily as if she were going to visit her living lover instead of hisgranite tomb; and that in lieu of evil omens a hundred fantasticallysentimental thoughts floated through her brain, as merrily andirresponsibly as the motes in the long shafts of brilliancy thatcleaved, sword-like through the mists, upon her from out the east.Visions of Madeleine's face when she would learn before breakfast thatSophia had actually been to the churchyard already; visions of whomshe might meet there; rehearsals of a romantic scene upon thathallowed spot, of her own blushes, her knowing looks, her playfulremonstrances, with touching allusions to one who had loved and lost,herself, and who thus, &c. &c.
Miss Landale tossed her long faded ringlets quite coquettishly, turnedone slim bony hand with coy gesture before her approving eyes. Thenshe patted her reticule and hurried on with fresh zest, enjoying thetart whisper of the wind against her well bonneted face, the exquisitevirginal beauty of the earth in the early spring of the day and of theyear.
As she stepped out of the shadow of the trees, her heart leaped andthen almost stood still as she perceived in the churchyard lying belowher, beside the great slab of granite which lay over the remains ofher long-departed beloved one, the figure of a man, whose back wasturned towards her, and whose erect outline was darkly silhouettedagainst the low, dazzling light.
Then a simper of exceeding archness crept upon Miss Landale's lips;and with as genteel an amble as the somewhat precipitate nature of thesmall piece of ground that yet divided her from the graveyard wouldallow, she proceeded on her way.
At the click of the lych-gate under her hand the man turned sharplyround and looked at her without moving further. An open letterfluttered in his hand.
His face was still against the light, and Miss Landale's eyes had weptso many tears by day and night that her sight was none of the best.She dropped a very elegant curtsey, simpered, drew nearer, and threw afetching glance upwards. Then her shrill scream rang through the stillmorning air and frightened the birds in the ruined church.
"You are early this morning, Sophia," said Mr. Landale.
Sophia sank upon the tombstone. To say that she was green or yellowwould ill describe the ghastliness of the tint that suffused hernaturally bilious countenance; still speechless, she made a franticplunge towards the great urn that adorned the head of the grave. Mr.Landale looked up from his reading again with a quiet smile.
"I shall have done in one minute," he remarked, "It is a fineproduction, egad! full of noble protestations and really high-soundingwords. And then, my dear Sophia, you can take charge of it, and Ishall be quite ready for the other, which I presume you have as usualwith you--ah, in your bag! Thanks."
"Rupert?" ejaculated the unfortunate lady, first in agonised query,and next in agonised reproach, clasping her hands over the preciousreticule--"Rupert!"
Mr. Landale neatly folded the sheet he had been reading, moistenedwith his tongue a fresh wafer which he drew from his waistcoat pocket,and, deftly placing it upon the exact spot from which the original onehad been removed, handed the letter to his sister with a little bow.But, as with a gesture of horror the latter refused to take it, heshrugged his shoulders and tossed it carelessly into the urn.
"Now give me Madeleine's," he said, peremptorily.
Rolling upwards eyes of appeal the unhappy Iris called upon heaven towitness that she would die a thousand deaths rather than betray hersolemn trust. But even as she spoke the fictitious flame of couragewithered away in her shrinking frame; and at the mere touch of herbrother's finger and thumb upon her wrist, the mere sight of his facebending masterfully over her with white teeth just gleaming be
tweenhis twisting smile and half-veiled eyes of insolent determination, sheallowed him, unresisting, to take the bag from her side; protestingagainst the breach of faith only by her moans and the inept wringingof her hands.
Mr. Landale opened the bag, tossed with cynical contempt upon the flattombstone, sundry precious relics of the mouldering bones within, anddiscovered at length in an inner pocket a dainty flower-scented note.Then he flung down the bag and proceeded with the same deliberation toopen the letter and peruse its delicate flowing handwriting.
"Upon my word," he vowed, "I think this is the prettiest she haswritten yet! What a sweet soul it is! Listen, Sophia: 'You praise mefor my trust in you--but, Jack, dear love, my trust is so much a partof my love that the one would not exist without the other. Therefore,do not give me any credit, for you know I could not help loving you.'Poor heart! poor confiding child! Oh!" ejaculated Mr. Landale as if tohimself, carefully proceeding the while with his former manoeuvresto end by placing the violated missive, to all appearance intact,beside its fellow, "we have here a rank fellow, a foul traitor to dealwith!"
Then, wheeling round to his sister, and fixing her with piercing eyes:"Sophia," he exclaimed, in tones of sternest rebuke, "I am surprisedat you. I am, indeed!"
Miss Landale raised mesmerised, horror-stricken eyes upon him; hisdark utterances had already filled her foolish soul with blind dread.He sat down beside her, and once more enclosed the thin arm in hislight but warning grasp.
"Sophia," he said solemnly, "you little guess the magnitude of theharm you have been doing; the frightful fate you have been preparingfor an innocent and trusting girl; the depth of the villainy you areaiding and abetting. You have been acting, as I say, in ignorance,without realising the awful consequences of your folly and duplicity.But that you should have chosen _this_ sacred place for such illicitand reprehensible behaviour; that by the grave of this worthy man wholoved you, by the stones chosen and paid for by my fraternalaffection, you should plot and scheme to deceive your family, andhelp to lead a confiding and beautiful creature to ruin, I shouldnever have expected from _you_, Sophia--Sophia!"
Miss Landale collapsed into copious weeping.
"I am sure, brother," she sobbed, "I never meant any harm. I am surenobody loves the dear girl better than I do. I am sure I never wishedto hide anything from you!--Only--they told me--they trusted me--theymade me promise--Oh brother, what terrible things you have beensaying! I cannot believe that so handsome a young gentleman can meananything wrong--I only wish you could have seen him with her, he is sodevoted--it is quite beautiful."
"Alas--the tempter always makes himself beautiful in the eyes of thetempted! Sophia, we can yet save this unhappy child, but who knows howsoon it may be too late!--You can still repair some of the wrong youhave done, but you can only do so by the most absolute obedience tome.... Believe me, I know the truth about this vile adventurer, thisCaptain Jack Smith."
"Good Heavens!" cried Sophia, "Rupert, do not tell me, lest I swoonaway, that he is married already?"
"The man, my dear, whose plots to compromise and entangle a lovelygirl you have favoured, is a villain of the deepest dye--a pirate."
"Oh!" shivered Sophia with fascinated misery--thrilling recollectionsof last night's reading shooting through her frame.
"A smuggler, a criminal, an outlaw in point of fact," pursued Mr.Landale. "He merely seeks Madeleine for her money--has a wife in everyport, no doubt--"
Miss Landale did not swoon; but her brother's watchful eye wassatisfied with the effect produced, and he went on in a well modulatedtone of suppressed emotion:
"And after breaking her heart, ruining her body and soul, dragging herto the foulest depths he would have cast her away like a deadweed--perhaps murdered her! Sophia, what would your feelings be then?"
A hard red spot had risen to each of Miss Landale's cheek bones; hertears had dried up under the fevered glow.
"We believed," she said trembling in every limb, "that he was workingon a mission to the French court--"
"Faugh--" cried Mr. Landale, contemptuously, "smuggling French brandyfor our English drunkards and traitorous intelligence for our Frenchenemies!"
"Such a handsome young man, so gentlemanly, such an air!" maunderedthe miserable woman between her chattering teeth. "It was quiteaccidental that we met, Rupert, quite accidental, I assure you.Madeleine--poor dear girl--came down with me here, I wanted to showher the g-grave----" here Sophia gurgled convulsively, remembering herbrother's cruel reproaches.
"Well?"
"She came here with me, and as I was kneeling down, planting crocusesjust here, Rupert, and she was standing _there_, a young man suddenlyleaped over the wall, and fell at her feet. He had not seen_me_--Alas, it reminded me of my own happiness! And he was sowell-dressed, so courteous--and seemed such a perfect gentleman--andhe took off his hat so gracefully I am sure I never could havebelieved it of him. And they confided in me and I promisedby--by--those sacred ashes to keep their secret. I remembered ofcourse what Tanty had said in her letter, and quite understood he wasthe young gentleman in question--but they explained to me how she wasunder a wrong impression altogether. He said that the instant he laideyes upon me, he saw I had a feeling heart, and he knew they couldtrust me. He spoke so nobly, Rupert, and said: What better place couldthey have for their meetings than one consecrated to such faithfullove as this? It was so beautiful--and oh dear! I can't but thinkthere is some mistake." And Miss Landale again wrung her hands.
"But I have proof!" thundered her brother, "convincing proof, of whatI have told you. At this very moment the man who would marryMadeleine, forsooth, runs the risk of imprisonment--nay, of thegallows! You may have thought it strange that I should have opened andread letters not addressed to me, but with misfortune hanging over abeloved object I did not pause to consider myself. My only thought wasto save her."
Here Mr. Landale looked very magnanimous, and thrust his fingers as hespoke through the upper buttons of his waistcoat with the gesturewhich traditionally accompanies such sentiments: these cheap effectsproved generally irresistible with Sophia. But his personality hadpaled before the tremendous drama into which the poor romance-lovingsoul was so suddenly plunged, and in which in spite of all her woe shefound an awful kind of fascination. Failing to read any depth ofadmiration in her roving eye, Rupert promptly abandonedgrandiloquence, and resuming his usual voice and manner, he droppedhis orders upon her heat of agitation like a cool relentless streamunder which her last protest fizzed, sputtered, and went out.
"I mean to unmask the gay lover at my own time and in my own way;never fear, I shall deal gently with _her_. You will now take thisletter of his and put it in your bag, leaving hers in that curiouspost-office of yours."
"Yes, Rupert."
"And you will give his letter to her at once when you go in withoutone word of having met me."
"Y ... yes, Rupert."
"As you are too great a fool to be trusted if you once begin to talk,you will have a headache for the rest of the day and go to bed in adark room."
"Y ... yes, Rupert."
"You will moreover swear to me, now, that you will not speak of ourinterview here till I give you leave; say I swear I will not."
"I swear I will not."
"So help me God!"
"Oh, Rupert."
"_So help me God_, you fool!"
Sophia's lips murmured an inaudible something; but there was suchcomplete submission in every line and curve of her figure, in the verydroop of her ringlets and the helpless appeal of her gaze that Rupertwas satisfied. He assisted her to arise from her tombstone, bundledthe clerical love-tokens back into the bag, duly placed Captain Jack'sletter in the inner pocket, and was about to present her with his armto conduct her homewards, when he caught sight of a little raggedurchin peeping through the bars of the gate, and seemingly in the veryact of making a mysterious signal in the direction of Miss Landale'sunconscious figure.
Rupert stared hard at the ruddy, impudent face, which in
stantlyassumed an appearance of the most defiant unconcern, while its ownerbegan to devote his energies to shying stones at an invisible rookupon the old church tower with great nicety of aim.
"Sophia," said her brother in a low tone, "go to the gate: that boywants to speak to you. Go and see what he wants and return to me."
Miss Landale gasped, gazed at her brother as if she thought him mad,looked round at the little boy, coloured violently, then meetingRupert's eye again staggered off without a word of protest.
Rupert, shaken with silent laughter, humming a little song to himself,stooped to pick a couple of tender spring flowers from the borderbeside the grave, and after slipping them into a button-hole of hismany caped overcoat, stood looking out over the stretch of land andsea, where Scarthey rose like a dream against the sparkle of the waterand the exquisite blue of the sky.
Presently rapid panting breaths and a shuffling rustle of petticoatsbehind him informed him of his sister's return.
"So you are there, my dear," he said loudly. "One of your littlefishing friends from the village, I suppose--a Shearman, unless I ammistaken. Yes, a Shearman; I thought so. Well, shall we return homenow? They will be wondering what has become of us. Pray take my arm."Then beneath his breath, seeing that words were struggling to Sophia'slips, "Hold your tongue."
The small ragged boy watched their departure with a derisive grin, andset off at a brisk canter down to the shore, jingling some silver coinin his pocket with relish as he went.
When Rupert and Sophia had reached the wood the former paused.
"Letter or message?"
"Oh, Rupert, it was a letter; had I not better destroy it?"
"Give it to me."
* * * * *
A hasty scrawl, it seemed, folded anyhow. Only two or three lines, yetRupert conned them for a curiously long time.
"My darling," it ran, "meet me to-day in the ruins at noon. Amisfortune has happened to me, but if you trust me, all will still bewell.--Your Jack." Mr. Landale at length handed it back to Sophia.
"You will give it to Madeleine with the other," he said briefly."Mention the fact of the messenger having brought it." And then in aterrible bass he added, "And remember your oath!"
She trembled; but as he walked onwards through the wood, his lips weresmiling, and his eyes were alight with triumph.