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diff --git a/14671-0.txt b/14671-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0342c70 --- /dev/null +++ b/14671-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12599 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14671 *** + +[Illustration] + + + + +Mary Pickford Edition + +Dorothy Vernon of +Haddon Hall + +BY + +CHARLES MAJOR + +AUTHOR OF +WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER, +YOLANDA, ETC. + + +ILLUSTRATED WITH +SCENES FROM THE PHOTOPLAY + +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + +Made in the United States of America + +Set up and electrotyped. Published April, 1908 + + +Printed in U.S.A. + + + + +To My Wife + + + + + +CONTENTS + + Page + +A TOUCH OF BLACK MAGIC 1 + +CHAPTER + I. I RIDE DOWN TO HADDON 3 + II. THE IRON, THE SEED, THE CLOUD, AND THE RAIN 19 + III. THE PITCHER GOES TO THE WELL 35 + IV. THE GOLDEN HEART 62 + V. MINE ENEMY'S ROOF-TREE 91 + VI. A DANGEROUS TRIP TO DERBY-TOWN 108 + VII. TRIBULATION IN HADDON 130 +VIII. MALCOLM NO. 2 163 + IX. A TRYST AT BOWLING GREEN GATE 181 + X. THOMAS THE MAN-SERVANT 211 + XI. THE COST MARK OF JOY 239 + XII. THE LEICESTER POSSIBILITY 260 +XIII. PROUD DAYS FOR THE OLD HALL 281 + XIV. MARY STUART 302 + XV. LIGHT 333 + XVI. LEICESTER WAITS AT THE STILE 360 + + + + + +A TOUCH OF BLACK MAGIC + + +I draw the wizard's circle upon the sands, and blue flames spring from its +circumference. I describe an inner circle, and green flames come +responsive to my words of magic. I touch the common centre of both with my +wand, and red flames, like adders' tongues, leap from the earth. Over +these flames I place my caldron filled with the blood of a new-killed doe, +and as it boils I speak my incantations and make my mystic signs and +passes, watching the blood-red mist as it rises to meet the spirits of +Air. I chant my conjurations as I learned them from the Great Key of +Solomon, and while I speak, the ruddy fumes take human forms. Out of the +dark, fathomless Past--the Past of near four hundred years ago--comes a +goodly company of simple, pompous folk all having a touch of childish +savagery which shows itself in the fierceness of their love and of their +hate. + +The fairest castle-château in all England's great domain, the walls and +halls of which were builded in the depths of time, takes on again its +olden form quick with quivering life, and from the gates of Eagle Tower +issues my quaint and radiant company. Some are clad in gold lace, silks, +and taffetas; some wear leather, buckram and clanking steel. While the +caldron boils, their cloud-forms grow ever more distinct and definite, +till at length I can trace their every feature. I see the color of their +eyes. I discern the shades of their hair. Some heads are streaked with +gray; others are glossy with the sheen of youth. As a climax to my +conjurations I speak the word of all words magical, "Dorothy," and lo! as +though God had said, "Let there be light," a fair, radiant girl steps from +the portals of Haddon Hall and illumines all my ancient company so that I +may see even the workings of their hearts. + +They, and the events of their lives, their joys and sorrows, their virtues +and sins, their hatreds, jealousies, and loves--the seven numbers in the +total sum of life--pass before me as in a panorama, moving when I bid them +move, pausing when I bid them pause, speaking when I bid them speak, and +alas! fading back into the dim gray limbo of the past long, long ere I +would have them go. + +But hark! my radiant shades are about to speak. The play is about to +begin. + + + + +Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +I RIDE DOWN TO HADDON + + +Since I play no mean part in the events of this chronicle, a few words +concerning my own history previous to the opening of the story I am about +to tell you will surely not be amiss, and they may help you to a better +understanding of my narrative. + +To begin with an unimportant fact--unimportant, that is, to you--my name +is Malcolm François de Lorraine Vernon. My father was cousin-german to Sir +George Vernon, at and near whose home, Haddon Hall in Derbyshire, occurred +the events which will furnish my theme. + +Of the ancient lineage of the house of Vernon I need not speak. You +already know that the family is one of the oldest in England, and while it +is not of the highest nobility, it is quite gentle and noble enough to +please those who bear its honored name. My mother boasted nobler blood +than that of the Vernons. She was of the princely French house of Guise--a +niece and ward to the Great Duke, for whose sake I was named. + +My father, being a younger brother, sought adventure in the land of +France, where his handsome person and engaging manner won the smiles of +Dame Fortune and my mother at one and the same cast. In due time I was +born, and upon the day following that great event my father died. On the +day of his burial my poor mother, unable to find in me either compensation +or consolation for the loss of her child's father, also died, of a broken +heart, it was said. But God was right, as usual, in taking my parents; for +I should have brought them no happiness, unless perchance they could have +moulded my life to a better form than it has had--a doubtful chance, since +our great virtues and our chief faults are born and die with us. My +faults, alas! have been many and great. In my youth I knew but one virtue: +to love my friend; and that was strong within me. How fortunate for us it +would be if we could begin our life in wisdom and end it in simplicity, +instead of the reverse which now obtains! + +I remained with my granduncle, the Great Duke, and was brought up amid the +fighting, vice, and piety of his sumptuous court. I was trained to arms, +and at an early age became Esquire in Waiting to his Grace of Guise. Most +of my days between my fifteenth and twenty-fifth years were spent in the +wars. At the age of twenty-five I returned to the château, there to reside +as my uncle's representative, and to endure the ennui of peace. At the +château I found a fair, tall girl, fifteen years of age: Mary Stuart, +Queen of Scotland, soon afterward Queen of France and rightful heiress to +the English throne. The ennui of peace, did I say? Soon I had no fear of +its depressing effect, for Mary Stuart was one of those women near whose +fascinations peace does not thrive. When I found her at the château, my +martial ardor lost its warmth. Another sort of flame took up its home in +my heart, and no power could have turned me to the wars again. + +Ah! what a gay, delightful life, tinctured with bitterness, we led in the +grand old château, and looking back at it how heartless, godless, and +empty it seems. Do not from these words conclude that I am a fanatic, nor +that I shall pour into your ears a ranter's tale; for cant is more to be +despised even than godlessness; but during the period of my life of which +I shall write I learned--but what I learned I shall in due time tell you. + +While at the court of Guise I, like many another man, conceived for Mary +Stuart a passion which lay heavy upon my heart for many years. Sweethearts +I had by the scores, but she held my longings from all of them until I +felt the touch of a pure woman's love, and then--but again I am going +beyond my story. + +I did not doubt, nor do I hesitate to say, that my passion was returned by +Mary with a fervor which she felt for no other lover; but she was a queen, +and I, compared with her, was nobody. For this difference of rank I have +since had good cause to be thankful. Great beauty is diffusive in its +tendency. Like the sun, it cannot shine for one alone. Still, it burns and +dazzles the one as if it shone for him and for no other; and he who basks +in its rays need have no fear of the ennui of peace. + +The time came when I tasted the unutterable bitterness of Mary's marriage +to a simpering fool, Francis II., whom she loathed, notwithstanding absurd +stories of their sweet courtship and love. + +After her marriage to Francis, Mary became hard and callous of heart, and +all the world knows her sad history. The stories of Darnley, Rizzio, and +Bothwell will be rich morsels, I suppose, for the morbid minds of men and +women so long as books are read and scandal is loved. + +Ah, well, that was long ago; so long ago that now as I write it seems but +a shadow upon the horizon of time. + +And so it happened that Francis died, and when the queen went back to +Scotland to ascend her native throne, I went with her, and mothlike +hovered near the blaze that burned but did not warm me. + +Then in the course of time came the Darnley tragedy. I saw Rizzio killed. +Gods! what a scene for hell was that! Then followed the Bothwell +disgrace, the queen's imprisonment at Lochleven, and my own flight from +Scotland to save my head. + +You will hear of Mary again in this history, and still clinging to her you +will find that same strange fatality which during all her life brought +evils upon her that were infectious to her friends and wrought their ruin. + +One evening, in the autumn of the year 1567, I was sitting moodily before +my fire in the town of Dundee, brooding over Mary's disgraceful liaison +with Bothwell. I had solemnly resolved that I would see her never again, +and that I would turn my back upon the evil life I had led for so many +years, and would seek to acquire that quiescence of nature which is +necessary to an endurable old age. A tumultuous soul in the breast of an +old man breeds torture, but age, with the heart at rest, I have found is +the best season of life. + +In the midst of my gloomy thoughts and good resolves my friend, Sir Thomas +Douglas, entered my room without warning and in great agitation. + +"Are you alone?" he asked hurriedly, in a low voice. + +"Save for your welcome presence, Sir Thomas," I answered, offering my +hand. + +"The queen has been seized," he whispered, "and warrants for high treason +have been issued against many of her friends--you among the number. +Officers are now coming to serve the writ. I rode hither in all haste to +warn you. Lose not a moment, but flee for your life. The Earl of Murray +will be made regent to-morrow." + +"My servant? My horse?" I responded. + +"Do not wait. Go at once. I shall try to send a horse for you to Craig's +ferry. If I fail, cross the firth without one. Here is a purse. The queen +sends it to you. Go! Go!" + +I acted upon the advice, of Sir Thomas and hurried into the street, +snatching up my hat, cloak, and sword as I went. Night had fallen, and +darkness and rain, which at first I was inclined to curse, proved to be my +friends. I sought the back streets and alleys and walked rapidly toward +the west gates of the city. Upon arriving at the gates I found them +closed. I aroused the warden, and with the artful argument of gold had +almost persuaded him to let me pass. My evident eagerness was my undoing, +for in the hope of obtaining more gold the warden delayed opening the +gates till two men approached on horseback, and, dismounting, demanded my +surrender. + +I laughed and said: "Two against one! Gentlemen, I am caught." I then drew +my sword as if to offer it to them. My action threw the men off their +guard, and when I said, "Here it is," I gave it to the one standing near +me, but I gave it to him point first and in the heart. + +It was a terrible thing to do, and bordered so closely on a broken parole +that I was troubled in conscience. I had not, however, given my parole, +nor had I surrendered; and if I had done so--if a man may take another's +life in self-defence, may he not lie to save himself? + +The other man shot at me with his fusil, but missed. He then drew his +sword; but he was no match for me, and soon I left him sprawling on the +ground, dead or alive, I knew not which. + +At the time of which I write I was thirty-five years of age, and since my +fifteenth birthday my occupations had been arms and the ladies--two arts +requiring constant use if one would remain expert in their practice. + +I escaped, and ran along the wall to a deep breach which had been left +unrepaired. Over the sharp rocks I clambered, and at the risk of breaking +my neck I jumped off the wall into the moat, which was almost dry. Dawn +was breaking when I found a place to ascend from the moat, and I hastened +to the fields and forests, where all day and all night long I wandered +without food or drink. Two hours before sunrise next morning I reached +Craig's Ferry. The horse sent by Douglas awaited me, but the ferry-master +had been prohibited from carrying passengers across the firth, and I could +not take the horse in a small boat. In truth, I was in great alarm lest I +should be unable to cross, but I walked up the Tay a short distance, and +found a fisherman, who agreed to take me over in his frail craft. Hardly +had we started when another boat put out from shore in pursuit of us. We +made all sail, but our pursuers overtook us when we were within half a +furlong of the south bank, and as there were four men in the other boat, +all armed with fusils, I peaceably stepped into their craft and handed my +sword to their captain. + +I seated myself on one of the thwarts well forward in the boat. By my side +was a heavy iron boat-hook. I had noticed that all the occupants of the +boat, except the fisherman who sailed her, wore armor; and when I saw the +boat-hook, a diabolical thought entered my mind and I immediately acted +upon its suggestion. Noiselessly I grasped the hook, and with its point +pried loose a board in the bottom of the boat, first having removed my +boots, cloak, and doublet. When the board was loosened I pressed my heel +against it with all the force I could muster, and through an opening six +inches broad and four feet long came a flood of water that swamped the +boat before one could utter twenty words. I heard a cry from one of the +men: "The dog has scuttled the boat. Shoot him!" At the same instant the +blaze and noise of two fusils broke the still blackness of the night, but +I was overboard and the powder and lead were wasted. The next moment the +boat sank in ten fathoms of water, and with it went the men in armor. I +hope the fisherman saved himself. I have often wondered if even the law of +self-preservation justified my act. It is an awful thing to inflict death, +but it is worse to endure it, and I feel sure that I am foolish to allow +my conscience to trouble me for the sake of those who would have led me +back to the scaffold. + +I fear you will think that six dead men in less than as many pages make a +record of bloodshed giving promise of terrible things to come, but I am +glad I can reassure you on that point. Although there may be some good +fighting ahead of us, I believe the last man has been killed of whom I +shall chronicle--the last, that is, in fight or battle. + +In truth, the history which you are about to read is not my own. It is the +story of a beautiful, wilful girl, who was madly in love with the one man +in all the world whom she should have avoided--as girls are wont to be. +This perverse tendency, philosophers tell us, is owing to the fact that +the unattainable is strangely alluring to womankind. I, being a man, shall +not, of course, dwell upon the foibles of my own sex. It were a foolish +candor. + +As I said, there will be some good fighting ahead of us, for love and +battle usually go together. One must have warm, rich blood to do either +well; and, save religion, there is no source more fruitful of quarrels and +death than that passion which is the source of life. + +You, of course, know without the telling, that I reached land safely after +I scuttled the boat, else I should not be writing this forty years +afterwards. + +The sun had risen when I waded ashore. I was swordless, coatless, hatless, +and bootless; but I carried a well-filled purse in my belt. Up to that +time I had given no thought to my ultimate destination; but being for the +moment safe, I pondered the question and determined to make my way to +Haddon Hall in Derbyshire, where I was sure a warm welcome would await me +from my cousin, Sir George Vernon. How I found a peasant's cottage, +purchased a poor horse and a few coarse garments, and how in the disguise +of a peasant I rode southward to the English border, avoiding the cities +and the main highways, might interest you; but I am eager to come to my +story, and I will not tell you of my perilous journey. + +One frosty morning, after many hairbreadth escapes, I found myself well +within the English border, and turned my horse's head toward the city of +Carlisle. There I purchased a fine charger. I bought clothing fit for a +gentleman, a new sword, a hand-fusil, a breastplate, and a steel-lined +cap, and feeling once again like a man rather than like a half-drowned +rat, I turned southward for Derbyshire and Haddon Hall. + +When I left Scotland I had no fear of meeting danger in England; but at +Carlisle I learned that Elizabeth held no favor toward Scottish refugees. +I also learned that the direct road from Carlisle to Haddon, by way of +Buxton, was infested with English spies who were on the watch for friends +of the deposed Scottish queen. Several Scotchmen had been arrested, and it +was the general opinion that upon one pretext or another they would be +hanged. I therefore chose a circuitous road leading to the town of Derby, +which lay south of Haddon at a distance of six or seven leagues. It would +be safer for me to arrive at Haddon travelling from the south than from +the north. Thus, after many days, I rode into Derby-town and stabled my +horse at the Royal Arms. + +I called for supper, and while I was waiting for my joint of beef a +stranger entered the room and gave his orders in a free, offhand manner +that stamped him a person of quality. + +The night outside was cold. While the stranger and I sat before the fire +we caught its infectious warmth, and when he showed a disposition to talk, +I gladly fell in with his humor. Soon we were filling our glasses from the +same bowl of punch, and we seemed to be on good terms with each other. But +when God breathed into the human body a part of himself, by some +mischance He permitted the devil to slip into the tongue and loosen it. My +tongue, which ordinarily was fairly well behaved, upon this occasion +quickly brought me into trouble. + +I told you that the stranger and I seemed to be upon good terms. And so we +were until I, forgetting for the moment Elizabeth's hatred of Mary's +friends, and hoping to learn the stranger's name and quality, said:-- + +"My name is Vernon--Sir Malcolm Vernon, knight by the hand of Queen Mary +of Scotland and of France." This remark, of course, required that my +companion should in return make known his name and degree; but in place of +so doing he at once drew away from me and sat in silence. I was older than +he, and it had seemed to me quite proper and right that I should make the +first advance. But instantly after I had spoken I regretted my words. I +remembered not only my danger, being a Scottish refugee, but I also +bethought me that I had betrayed myself. Aside from those causes of +uneasiness, the stranger's conduct was an insult which I was in duty bound +not to overlook. Neither was I inclined to do so, for I loved to fight. In +truth, I loved all things evil. + +"I regret, sir," said I, after a moment or two of embarrassing silence, +"having imparted information that seems to annoy you. The Vernons, whom +you may not know, are your equals in blood, it matters not who you are." + +"I know of the Vernons," he replied coldly, "and I well know that they are +of good blood and lineage. As for wealth, I am told Sir George could +easily buy the estates of any six men in Derbyshire." + +"You know Sir George?" I asked despite myself. + +"I do not know him, I am glad to say," returned the stranger. + +"By God, sir, you shall answer-" + +"At your pleasure, Sir Malcolm." + +"My pleasure is now," I retorted eagerly. + +I threw off my doublet and pushed the table and chairs against the wall to +make room for the fight; but the stranger, who had not drawn his sword, +said:-- + +"I have eaten nothing since morning, and I am as hungry as a wolf. I would +prefer to fight after supper; but if you insist--" + +"I do insist," I replied. "Perhaps you will not care for supper when I +have--" + +"That may be true," he interrupted; "but before we begin I think it right +to tell you, without at all meaning to boast of my skill, that I can kill +you if I wish to do so. Therefore you must see that the result of our +fight will be disagreeable to you in any case. You will die, or you will +owe me your life." + +His cool impertinence angered me beyond endurance. He to speak of killing +me, one of the best swordsmen in France, where the art of sword-play is +really an art! The English are but bunglers with a gentleman's blade, and +should restrict themselves to pike and quarterstaff. + +"Results be damned!" I answered. "I can kill you if I wish." Then it +occurred to me that I really did not wish to kill the handsome young +fellow toward whom I felt an irresistible attraction. + +I continued: "But I prefer that you should owe me your life. I do not wish +to kill you. Guard!" + +My opponent did not lift his sword, but smilingly said:-- + +"Then why do you insist upon fighting? I certainly do not wish to kill +you. In truth, I would be inclined to like you if you were not a Vernon." + +"Damn your insolence! Guard! or I will run you through where you stand," I +answered angrily. + +"But why do we fight?" insisted the stubborn fellow, with a coolness that +showed he was not one whit in fear of me. + +"You should know," I replied, dropping my sword-point to the floor, and +forgetting for the moment the cause of our quarrel. "I--I do not." + +"Then let us not fight," he answered, "until we have discovered the matter +of our disagreement." + +At this remark neither of us could resist smiling. I had not fought since +months before, save for a moment at the gates of Dundee, and I was loath +to miss the opportunity, so I remained in thought during the space of half +a minute and remembered our cause of war. + +"Oh! I recall the reason for our fighting," I replied, "and a good one it +was. You offered affront to the name of Sir George Vernon, and insultingly +refused me the courtesy of your name after I had done you the honor to +tell you mine." + +"I did not tell you my name," replied the stranger, "because I believed +you would not care to hear it; and I said I was glad not to know Sir +George Vernon because--because he is my father's enemy. I am Sir John +Manners. My father is Lord Rutland." + +Then it was my turn to recede. "You certainly are right. I do not care to +hear your name." + +I put my sword in its scabbard and drew the table back to its former +place. Sir John stood in hesitation for a moment or two, and then said:-- + +"Sir Malcolm, may we not declare a truce for to-night? There is nothing +personal in the enmity between us." + +"Nothing," I answered, staring at the fire, half regretful that we bore +each other enmity at all. + +"You hate me, or believe you do," said Manners, "because your father's +cousin hates my father; and I try to make myself believe that I hate you +because my father hates your father's cousin. Are we not both mistaken?" + +I was quick to anger and to fight, but no man's heart was more sensitive +than mine to the fair touch of a kind word. + +"I am not mistaken, Sir John, when I say that I do not hate you," I +answered. + +"Nor do I hate you, Sir Malcolm. Will you give me your hand?" + +"Gladly," I responded, and I offered my hand to the enemy of my house. + +"Landlord," I cried, "bring us two bottles of your best sack. The best in +the house, mind you." + +After our amicable understanding, Sir John and myself were very +comfortable together, and when the sack and roast beef, for which the +Royal Arms was justly famous, were brought in, we sat down to an enjoyable +meal. + +After supper Sir John lighted a small roll or stick made from the leaves +of tobacco. The stick was called a cigarro, and I, proud not to be behind +him in new-fashioned, gentlemanly accomplishments, called to the landlord +for a pipe. Manners interrupted me when I gave the order and offered me a +cigarro which I gladly accepted. + +Despite my effort to reassure myself, I could not quite throw off a +feeling of uneasiness whenever I thought of the manner in which I had +betrayed to Sir John the fact that I was a friend to Mary Stuart. I knew +that treachery was not native to English blood, and my knowledge of +mankind had told me that the vice could not live in Sir John Manners's +heart. But he had told me of his residence at the court of Elizabeth, and +I feared trouble might come to me from the possession of so dangerous a +piece of knowledge by an enemy of my house. + +I did not speak my thoughts upon the matter, and we sat the evening +through discussing many subjects. We warmed toward each other and became +quite confidential. I feel ashamed when I admit that one of my many sins +was an excessive indulgence in wine. While I was not a drunkard, I was +given to my cups sometimes in a degree both dangerous and disgraceful; and +during the evening of which I have just spoken I talked to Sir John with a +freedom that afterward made me blush, although my indiscretion brought me +no greater trouble. + +My outburst of confidence was prompted by Sir John's voluntary assurance +that I need fear nothing from having told him that I was a friend of Queen +Mary. The Scottish queen's name had been mentioned, and Sir John had +said-- + +"I take it, Sir Malcolm, that you are newly arrived in England, and I feel +sure you will accept the advice I am about to offer in the kindly spirit +in which it is meant. I deem it unsafe for you to speak of Queen Mary's +friendship in the open manner you have used toward me. Her friends are not +welcome visitors to England, and I fear evil will befall those who come to +us as refugees. You need have no fear that I will betray you. Your secret +is safe with me. I will give you hostage. I also am Queen Mary's friend. I +would not, of course, favor her against the interest of our own queen. To +Elizabeth I am and always shall be loyal; but the unfortunate Scottish +queen has my sympathy in her troubles, and I should be glad to help her. I +hear she is most beautiful and gentle in person." + +Thus you see the influence of Mary's beauty reached from Edinburgh to +London. A few months only were to pass till this conversation was to be +recalled by each of us, and the baneful influence of Mary's beauty upon +all whom it touched was to be shown more fatally than had appeared even in +my own case. In truth, my reason for speaking so fully concerning the, +Scottish queen and myself will be apparent to you in good time. + +When we were about to part for the night, I asked Sir John, "What road do +you travel to-morrow?" + +"I am going to Rutland Castle by way of Rowsley," he answered. + +"I, too, travel by Rowsley to Haddon Hall. Shall we not extend our truce +over the morrow and ride together as far as Rowsley?" I asked. + +"I shall be glad to make the truce perpetual," he replied laughingly. + +"So shall I," was my response. + +Thus we sealed our compact and knitted out of the warp and woof of enmity +a friendship which became a great joy and a sweet grief to each of us. + +That night I lay for hours thinking of the past and wondering about the +future. I had tasted the sweets--all flavored with bitterness--of court +life. Women, wine, gambling, and fighting had given me the best of all the +evils they had to offer. Was I now to drop that valorous life, which men +so ardently seek, and was I to take up a browsing, kinelike existence at +Haddon Hall, there to drone away my remaining days in fat'ning, peace, and +quietude? I could not answer my own question, but this I knew: that Sir +George Vernon was held in high esteem by Elizabeth, and I felt that his +house was, perhaps, the only spot in England where my head could safely +lie. I also had other plans concerning Sir George and his household which +I regret to say I imparted to Sir John in the sack-prompted outpouring of +my confidence. The plans of which I shall now speak had been growing in +favor with me for several months previous to my enforced departure from +Scotland, and that event had almost determined me to adopt them. Almost, I +say, for when I approached Haddon Hall I wavered in my resolution. + +At the time when I had last visited Sir George at Haddon, his daughter +Dorothy--Sir George called her Doll--was a slipshod girl of twelve. She +was exceedingly plain, and gave promise of always so remaining. Sir +George, who had no son, was anxious that his vast estates should remain +in the Vernon name. He had upon the occasion of my last visit intimated to +me that when Doll should become old enough to marry, and I, perchance, had +had my fill of knocking about the world, a marriage might be brought about +between us which would enable him to leave his estates to his daughter and +still to retain the much-loved Vernon name for his descendants. + +Owing to Doll's rusty red hair, slim shanks, and freckled face, the +proposition had not struck me with favor, yet to please Sir George I had +feigned acquiescence, and had said that when the time should come, we +would talk it over. Before my flight from Scotland I had often thought of +Sir George's proposition made six or seven years before. My love for Mary +Stuart had dimmed the light of other beauties in my eyes, and I had never +married. For many months before my flight, however, I had not been +permitted to bask in the light of Mary's smiles to the extent of my +wishes. Younger men, among them Darnley, who was but eighteen years of +age, were preferred to me, and I had begun to consider the advisability of +an orderly retreat from the Scottish court before my lustre should be +entirely dimmed. It is said that a man is young so long as he is strong, +and I was strong as in the days of my youth. My cheeks were fresh, my eyes +were bright, and my hair was red as when I was twenty, and without a +thread of gray. Still, my temperament was more exacting and serious, and +the thought of becoming settled for life, or rather for old age and death, +was growing in favor with me. With that thought came always a suggestion +of slim, freckled Dorothy and Sir George's offer. She held out to me +wealth and position, a peaceful home for my old age, and a grave with a +pompous, pious epitaph at Bakewell church, in death. + +When I was compelled to leave Scotland, circumstances forced me to a +decision, and my resolution was quickly taken. I would go to Derbyshire +and would marry Dorothy. I did not expect ever again to feel great love +for a woman. The fuse, I thought, had burned out when I loved Mary Stuart. +One woman, I believed, was like another to me, and Dorothy would answer as +well as any for my wife. I could and would be kind to her, and that alone +in time would make me fond. It is true, my affection would be of a fashion +more comfortable than exciting; but who, having passed his galloping +youth, will contemn the joys that come from making others happy? I believe +there is no person, past the age of forty, at all given to pondering the +whys of life, who will gainsay that the joy we give to others is our chief +source of happiness. Why, then, should not a wise man, through purely +selfish motives, begin early to cultivate the gentle art of giving joy? + +But the fates were to work out the destinies of Dorothy and myself without +our assistance. Self-willed, arrogant creatures are those same fates, but +they save us a deal of trouble by assuming our responsibilities. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE IRON, THE SEED, THE CLOUD, AND THE RAIN + + +The morning following my meeting with Manners, he and I made an early +start. An hour before noon we rode into the town of Rowsley and halted at +The Peacock for dinner. + +When we entered the courtyard of the inn we saw three ladies warmly +wrapped in rich furs leave a ponderous coach and walk to the inn door, +which they entered. One of them was an elderly lady whom I recognized as +my cousin, Lady Dorothy Crawford, sister to Sir George Vernon. The second +was a tall, beautiful girl, with an exquisite ivory-like complexion and a +wonderful crown of fluffy red hair which encircled her head like a halo of +sunlit glory. I could compare its wondrous lustre to no color save that of +molten gold deeply alloyed with copper. But that comparison tells you +nothing. I can find no simile with which to describe the beauties of its +shades and tints. It was red, but it also was golden, as if the enamoured +sun had gilded every hair with its radiance. In all my life I had never +seen anything so beautiful as this tall girl's hair. Still, it was the +Vernon red. My cousin, Sir George, and many Vernons had hair of the same +color. Yet the girl's hair differed from all other I had ever seen. It had +a light and a lustre of its own which was as distinct from the ordinary +Vernon red, although that is very good and we are proud of it, as the +sheen of gold is from the glitter of brass. I knew by the girl's hair +that she was my cousin, Dorothy Vernon, whom I reluctantly had come to +wed. + +I asked myself, "Can this be the plain, freckled girl I knew seven years +ago?" Compared with her beauty even Mary Stuart's was pale as the vapid +moon at dawn. The girl seemed to be the incarnated spirit of universal +life and light, and I had condescendingly come to marry this goddess. I +felt a dash of contemptuous pity for my complacent self. + +In my cogitations concerning marriage with Dorothy Vernon, I had not at +all taken into consideration her personal inclination. A girl, after all, +is but the chattel of her father, and must, perforce, if needs be, marry +the man who is chosen for her. But leaving parental authority out of the +question, a girl with brick-red hair and a multitude of freckles need not +be considered when an agreeable, handsome man offers himself as a husband. +She usually is willing to the point of eagerness. That is the manner in +which I had thought about Dorothy Vernon, if I considered her at all. But +when a man is about to offer himself to a goddess, he is apt to pause. In +such a case there are always two sides to the question, and nine chances +to one the goddess will coolly take possession of both. When I saw Dorothy +in the courtyard of The Peacock, I instantly knew that she was a girl to +be taken into account in all matters wherein she was personally concerned. +Her every feature, every poise and gesture, unconsciously bore the stamp +of "I will" or "I will not." + +Walking by Dorothy's side, holding her hand, was a fair young woman whose +hair was black, and whose skin was of the white, clear complexion such as +we see in the faces of nuns. She walked with a hesitating, cautious step, +and clung to Dorothy, who was gentle and attentive to her. But of this +fair, pale girl I have so much to say in the pages to come that I shall +not further describe her here. + +When the ladies had entered the inn, my companion and I dismounted, and +Manners exclaimed:-- + +"Did you see the glorious girl who but now entered the inn door? Gods! I +never before saw such beauty." + +"Yes," I replied, "I know her." + +"How fortunate I am," said Sir John. "Perhaps I may induce you to present +me to her. At least you will tell me her name, that I may seek her +acquaintance by the usual means. I am not susceptible, but by my faith, +I--I--she looked at me from the door-steps, and when I caught her eyes it +seemed--that is, I saw--or I felt a stream of burning life enter my soul, +and--but you will think I am a fool. I know I am a fool. But I feel as if +I were--as if I had been bewitched in one little second of time, and by a +single glance from a pair of brown eyes. You certainly will think I am a +fool, but you cannot understand--" + +"Why can't I understand?" I asked indignantly. "The thing you have seen +and felt has been in this world long enough for every man to understand. +Eve used it upon Adam. I can't understand? Damme, sir, do you think I am a +clod? I have felt it fifty times." + +"Not--" began Sir John, hesitatingly. + +"Nonsense!" I replied. "You, too, will have the same experience fifty +times again before you are my age." + +"But the lady," said Sir John, "tell me of her. Will you--can you present +me to her? If not, will you tell me who she is?" + +I remained for a moment in thought, wondering if it were right for me to +tell him that the girl whom he so much admired was the daughter of his +father's enemy. I could see no way of keeping Dorothy's name from him, so +I determined to tell him. + +"She is my cousin, Mistress Dorothy Vernon," I said. "The eldest is Lady +Dorothy Crawford. The beautiful, pale girl I do not know." + +"I am sorry," returned Sir John; "she is the lady whom you have come to +marry, is she not?" + +"Y-e-s," said I, hesitatingly. + +"You certainly are to be congratulated," returned Manners. + +"I doubt if I shall marry her," I replied. + +"Why?" asked Manners. + +"For many reasons, chief among which is her beauty." + +"That is an unusual reason for declining a woman," responded Sir John, +with a low laugh. + +"I think it is quite usual," I replied, having in mind the difficulty with +which great beauties are won. But I continued, "A woman of moderate beauty +makes a safer wife, and in the long run is more comforting than one who is +too attractive." + +"You are a philosopher, Sir Malcolm," said Manners, laughingly. + +"And a liar," I muttered to myself. I felt sure, however, that I should +never marry Dorothy Vernon, and I do not mind telling you, even at this +early stage in my history, that I was right in my premonition. I did not +marry her. + +"I suppose I shall now be compelled to give you up to your relatives," +said Manners. + +"Yes," I returned, "we must say good-by for the present; but if we do not +meet again, it shall not be for the lack of my wishing. Your father and +Sir George would feel deeply injured, should they learn of our friendship, +therefore--" + +"You are quite right," he interrupted. "It is better that no one should +know of it. Nevertheless, between you and me let there be no feud." + +"The secrecy of our friendship will give it zest," said I. "That is true, +but 'good wine needs no bush.' You will not mention my name to the +ladies?" + +"No, if you wish that I shall not." + +"I do so wish." + +When the stable boys had taken our horses, I gave my hand to Sir John, +after which we entered the inn and treated each other as strangers. + +Soon after I had washed the stains of travel from my hands and face, I +sent the maid to my cousins, asking that I might be permitted to pay my +devotions, and Dorothy came to the tap-room in response to my message. + +When she entered she ran to me with outstretched hands and a gleam of +welcome in her eyes. We had been rare friends when she was a child. + +"Ah, Cousin Malcolm, what a fine surprise you have given us!" she +exclaimed, clasping both my hands and offering me her cheek to kiss. +"Father's delight will be beyond measure when he sees you." + +"As mine now is," I responded, gazing at her from head to foot and +drinking in her beauty with my eyes. "Doll! Doll! What a splendid girl you +have become. Who would have thought that--that--" I hesitated, realizing +that I was rapidly getting myself into trouble. + +"Say it. Say it, cousin! I know what is in your mind. Rusty red hair, +angular shoulders, sharp elbows, freckles thickly set as stars upon a +clear night, and so large and brown that they fairly twinkled. Great +staring green eyes. Awkward!--" And she threw up her hands in mimic horror +at the remembrance. "No one could have supposed that such a girl would +have become--that is, you know," she continued confusedly, "could have +changed. I haven't a freckle now," and she lifted her face that I might +prove the truth of her words by examination, and perhaps that I might also +observe her beauty. + +Neither did I waste the opportunity. I dwelt longingly upon the wondrous +red golden hair which fringed her low broad forehead, and upon the heavy +black eyebrows, the pencilled points of whose curves almost touched +across the nose. I saw the rose-tinted ivory of her skin and the long jet +lashes curving in a great sweep from her full white lids, and I thought +full sure that Venus herself was before me. My gaze halted for a moment at +the long eyes which changed chameleon-like with the shifting light, and +varied with her moods from deep fathomless green to violet, and from +violet to soft voluptuous brown, but in all their tints beaming forth a +lustre that would have stirred the soul of an anchorite. Then I noted the +beauty of her clean-cut saucy nose and the red arch of her lips, slightly +parted for the purpose of showing her teeth. But I could not stop long to +dwell upon any one especial feature, for there were still to be seen her +divine round chin, her large white throat, and the infinite grace in poise +and curve of her strong young form. I dared not pause nor waste my time if +I were to see it all, for such a girl as Dorothy waits no man's +leisure--that is, unless she wishes to wait. In such case there is no +moving her, and patience becomes to her a delightful virtue. + +After my prolonged scrutiny Dorothy lowered her face and said +laughingly:-- + +"Now come, cousin, tell me the truth. Who would have thought it possible?" + +"Not I, Doll, not I, if you will pardon me the frankness." + +"Oh, that is easily done." Then with a merry ripple of laughter, "It is +much easier, I fancy, for a woman to speak of the time when she was plain +than to refer to the time when--when she was beautiful. What an absurd +speech that is for me to make," she said confusedly. + +"I certainly did not expect to find so great a change," said I. "Why, +Doll, you are wondrous, glorious, beautiful. I can't find words--" + +"Then don't try, Cousin Malcolm," she said with a smile that fringed her +mouth in dimples. "Don't try. You will make me vain." + +"You are that already, Doll," I answered, to tease her. + +"I fear I am, cousin--vain as a man. But don't call me Doll. I am tall +enough to be called Dorothy." + +She straightened herself up to her full height, and stepping close to my +side, said: "I am as tall as you. I will now try to make you vain. You +look just as young and as handsome as when I last saw you and so ardently +admired your waving black mustachio and your curling chin beard." + +"Did you admire them, Doll--Dorothy?" I asked, hoping, though with little +faith, that the admiration might still continue. + +"Oh, prodigiously," she answered with unassuring candor. "Prodigiously. +Now who is vain, Cousin Malcolm François de Lorraine Vernon?" + +"I," I responded, shrugging my shoulders and confessing by compulsion. + +"But you must remember," she continued provokingly, "that a girl of twelve +is very immature in her judgment and will fall in love with any man who +allows her to look upon him twice." + +"Then I am to believe that the fire begins very early to burn in the +feminine heart," I responded. + +"With birth, my cousin, with birth," she replied; "but in my heart it +burned itself out upon your curling beard at the mature age of twelve." + +"And you have never been in love since that time, Doll--Dorothy?" I asked +with more earnestness in my heart than in my voice. + +"No, no; by the Virgin, no! Not even in the shadow of a thought. And by +the help of the Virgin I hope I never shall be; for when it comes to me, +mark my word, cousin, there will be trouble in Derbyshire." + +"By my soul, I believe you speak the truth," I answered, little dreaming +how quickly our joint prophecy would come true. + +I then asked Dorothy to tell me about her father. + +"Father is well in health," she said. "In mind he has been much troubled +and disturbed. Last month he lost the lawsuit against detestable old Lord +Rutland. He was much angered by the loss, and has been moody and morose in +brooding over it ever since. He tries, poor father, to find relief from +his troubles, and--and I fear takes too much liquor. Rutland and his +friends swore to one lie upon another, and father believes that the judge +who tried the case was bribed. Father intends to appeal to Parliament, but +even in Parliament he fears he cannot obtain justice. Lord Rutland's +son--a disreputable fellow, who for many years has lived at court--is a +favorite with the queen, and his acquaintance with her Majesty and with +the lords will be to father's prejudice." + +"I have always believed that your father stood in the queen's good +graces?" I said interrogatively. + +"So he does, but I have been told that this son of Lord Rutland, whom I +have never seen, has the beauty of--of the devil, and exercises a great +influence over her Majesty and her friends. The young man is not known in +this neighborhood, for he has never deigned to leave the court; but Lady +Cavendish tells me he has all the fascinations of Satan. I would that +Satan had him." + +"The feud still lives between Vernon and Rutland?" I asked. + +"Yes, and it will continue to live so long as an ounce of blood can hold a +pound of hatred," said the girl, with flashing eyes and hard lips. "I love +to hate the accursed race. They have wronged our house for three +generations, and my father has suffered greater injury at their hands than +any of our name. Let us not talk of the hateful subject." + +We changed the topic. I had expected Dorothy to invite me to go with her +to meet Lady Crawford, but the girl seemed disinclined to leave the +tap-room. The Peacock was her father's property, and the host and hostess +were her friends after the manner of persons in their degree. Therefore +Dorothy felt at liberty to visit the tap-room quite as freely as if it had +been the kitchen of Haddon Hall. + +During our conversation I had frequently noticed Dorothy glancing slyly in +the direction of the fireplace; but my back was turned that way, and I did +not know, nor did it at first occur to me to wonder what attracted her +attention. Soon she began to lose the thread of our conversation, and made +inappropriate, tardy replies to my remarks. The glances toward the +fireplace increased in number and duration, and her efforts to pay +attention to what I was saying became painful failures. + +After a little time she said: "Is it not cool here? Let us go over to the +fireplace where it is warmer." + +I turned to go with her, and at once saw that it was not the fire in the +fireplace which had attracted Dorothy, but quite a different sort of +flame. In short, much to my consternation, I discovered that it was +nothing less than my handsome new-found friend, Sir John Manners, toward +whom Dorothy had been glancing. + +We walked over to the fireplace, and one of the fires, Sir John, moved +away. But the girl turned her face that she might see him in his new +position. The movement, I confess, looked bold to the point of brazenness; +but if the movement was bold, what shall I say of her glances and the +expression of her face? She seemed unable to take her eager eyes from the +stranger, or to think of anything but him, and after a few moments she did +not try. Soon she stopped talking entirely and did not even hear what I +was saying. I, too, became silent, and after a long pause the girl +asked:-- + +"Cousin, who is the gentleman with whom you were travelling?" + +I was piqued by Dorothy's conduct, and answered rather curtly: "He is a +stranger. I picked him up at Derby, and we rode here together." + +A pause followed, awkward in its duration. + +"Did you--not--learn--his--name?" asked Dorothy, hesitatingly. + +"Yes," I replied. + +Then came another pause, broken by the girl, who spoke in a quick, +imperious tone touched with irritation:-- + +"Well, what is it?" + +"It is better that I do not tell you," I answered. "It was quite by +accident that we met. Neither of us knew the other. Please do not ask me +to tell you his name." + +"Oh, but you make me all the more eager to learn. Mystery, you know, is +intolerable to a woman, except in the unravelling. Come, tell me! Tell me! +Not, of course, that I really care a farthing to know--but the mystery! A +mystery drives me wild. Tell me, please do, Cousin Malcolm." + +She certainly was posing for the stranger's benefit, and was doing all in +her power, while coaxing me, to display her charms, graces, and pretty +little ways. Her attitude and conduct spoke as plainly as the spring +bird's song speaks to its mate. Yet Dorothy's manner did not seem bold. +Even to me it appeared modest, beautiful, and necessary. She seemed to act +under compulsion. She would laugh, for the purpose, no doubt, of showing +her dimples and her teeth, and would lean her head to one side pigeon-wise +to display her eyes to the best advantage, and then would she shyly glance +toward Sir John to see if he was watching her. It was shameless, but it +could not be helped by Dorothy nor any one else. After a few moments of +mute pleading by the girl, broken now and then by, "Please, please," I +said:-- + +"If you give to me your promise that you will never speak of this matter +to any person, I will tell you the gentleman's name. I would not for a +great deal have your father know that I have held conversation with him +even for a moment, though at the time I did not know who he was." + +"Oh, this is delightful! He must be some famous, dashing highwayman. I +promise, of course I promise--faithfully." She was glancing constantly +toward Manners, and her face was bright with smiles and eager with +anticipation. + +"He is worse than a highwayman, I regret to say. The gentleman toward whom +you are so ardently glancing is--Sir John Manners." + +A shock of pain passed over Dorothy's face, followed by a hard, repellent +expression that was almost ugly. + +"Let us go to Aunt Dorothy," she said, as she turned and walked across the +room toward the door. + +When we had closed the door of the tap-room behind us Dorothy said +angrily:-- + +"Tell me, cousin, how you, a Vernon, came to be in his company?" + +"I told you that I met him quite by accident at the Royal Arms in +Derby-town. We became friends before either knew the other's name. After +chance had disclosed our identities, he asked for a truce to our feud +until the morrow; and he was so gentle and open in his conduct that I +could not and would not refuse his proffered olive branch. In truth, +whatever faults may be attributable to Lord Rutland,--and I am sure he +deserves all the evil you have spoken of him,--his son, Sir John, is a +noble gentleman, else I have been reading the book of human nature all my +life in vain. Perhaps he is in no way to blame for his father's conduct +He may have had no part in it" + +"Perhaps he has not," said Dorothy, musingly. + +It was not a pleasant task for me to praise Sir John, but my sense of +justice impelled me to do so. I tried to make myself feel injured and +chagrined because of Dorothy's manner toward him; for you must remember I +had arranged with myself to marry this girl, but I could not work my +feelings into a state of indignation against the heir to Rutland. The +truth is, my hope of winning Dorothy had evaporated upon the first sight +of her, like the volatile essence it really was. I cannot tell you why, +but I at once seemed to realize that all the thought and labor which I had +devoted to the arduous task of arranging with myself this marriage was +labor lost. So I frankly told her my kindly feelings for Sir John, and +gave her my high estimate of his character. + +I continued: "You see, Dorothy, I could not so easily explain to your +father my association with Sir John, and I hope you will not speak of it +to any one, lest the news should reach Sir George's ears." + +"I will not speak of it," she returned, sighing faintly. "After all, it is +not his fault that his father is such a villain. He doesn't look like his +father, does he?" + +"I cannot say. I never saw Lord Rutland," I replied. + +"He is the most villanous-looking--" but she broke off the sentence and +stood for a moment in revery. We were in the darkened passage, and Dorothy +had taken my hand. That little act in another woman of course would have +led to a demonstration on my part, but in this girl it seemed so entirely +natural and candid that it was a complete bar to undue familiarity. In +truth, I had no such tendency, for the childish act spoke of an innocence +and faith that were very sweet to me who all my life had lived among men +and women who laughed at those simple virtues. The simple conditions of +life are all that are worth striving for. They come to us fresh from +Nature and from Nature's God. The complex are but concoctions of man after +recipes in the devil's alchemy. So much gold, so much ambition, so much +lust. Mix well. Product: so much vexation. + +"He must resemble his mother," said Dorothy, after a long pause. "Poor +fellow! His mother is dead. He is like me in that respect. I wonder if his +father's villanies trouble him?" + +"I think they must trouble him. He seems to be sad," said I, intending to +be ironical. + +My reply was taken seriously. + +"I am sorry for him," she said, "it is not right to hate even our enemies. +The Book tells us that." + +"Yet you hate Lord Rutland," said I, amused and provoked. + +Unexpected and dangerous symptoms were rapidly developing in the perverse +girl, and trouble was brewing "in Derbyshire." + +The adjective perverse, by the way, usually is superfluous when used to +modify the noun girl. + +"Yet you hate Lord Rutland," I repeated. + +"Why, y-e-s," she responded. "I cannot help that, but you know it would be +very wrong to--to hate all his family. To hate him is bad enough." + +I soon began to fear that I had praised Sir John overmuch. + +"I think Sir John is all there is of Lord Rutland's family," I said, +alarmed yet amused at Dorothy's search for an excuse not to hate my +new-found friend. + +"Well," she continued after a pause, throwing her head to one side, "I am +sorry there are no more of that family not to hate." + +"Dorothy! Dorothy!" I exclaimed. "What has come over you? You surprise +me." + +"Yes," she answered, with a little sigh, "I certainly have surprised +myself by--by my willingness to forgive those who have injured my house. I +did not know there was so much--so much good in me." + +"Mistress Pharisee," thought I, "you are a hypocrite." + +Again intending to be ironical, I said, "Shall I fetch him from the +tap-room and present him to you?" + +Once more my irony was lost upon the girl. Evidently that sort of humor +was not my strong point. + +"No, no," she responded indignantly, "I would not speak to him for--" +Again she broke her sentence abruptly, and after a little pause, short in +itself but amply long for a girl like Dorothy to change her mind two score +times, she continued: "It would not be for the best. What think you, +Cousin Malcolm?" + +"Surely the girl has gone mad," thought I. Her voice was soft and +conciliating as if to say, "I trust entirely to your mature, superior +judgment." + +My judgment coincided emphatically with her words, and I said: "I spoke +only in jest. It certainly would not be right. It would be all wrong if +you were to meet him." + +"That is true," the girl responded with firmness, "but--but no real harm +could come of it," she continued, laughing nervously. "He could not strike +me nor bite me. Of course it would be unpleasant for me to meet him, and +as there is no need--I am curious to know what one of his race is like. +It's the only reason that would induce me to consent. Of course you know +there could be no other reason for me to wish--that is, you know--to be +willing to meet him. Of course you know." + +"Certainly," I replied, still clinging to my unsuccessful irony. "I will +tell you all I know about him, so that you may understand what he is +like. As for his personal appearance, you saw him, did you not?" + +I thought surely that piece of irony would not fail, but it did, and I +have seldom since attempted to use that form of humor. + +"Yes--oh, yes, I saw him for a moment." + +"But I will not present him to you, Dorothy, however much you may wish to +meet him," I said positively. + +"It is almost an insult, Cousin Malcolm, for you to say that I wish to +meet him," she answered in well-feigned indignation. + +The French blood in my veins moved me to shrug my shoulders. I could do +nothing else. With all my knowledge of womankind this girl had sent me to +sea. + +But what shall we say of Dorothy's conduct? I fancy I can hear you mutter, +"This Dorothy Vernon must have been a bold, immodest, brazen girl." +Nothing of the sort. Dare you of the cold blood--if perchance there be any +with that curse in their veins who read these lines--dare you, I say, lift +your voice against the blessed heat in others which is but a greater, +stronger, warmer spark of God's own soul than you possess or than you can +comprehend? "Evil often comes of it," I hear you say. That I freely admit; +and evil comes from eating too much bread, and from hearing too much +preaching. But the universe, from the humblest blade of grass to the +infinite essence of God, exists because of that warmth which the mawkish +world contemns. Is the iron immodest when it creeps to the lodestone and +clings to its side? Is the hen bird brazen when she flutters to her mate +responsive to his compelling woo-song? Is the seed immodest when it sinks +into the ground and swells with budding life? Is the cloud bold when it +softens into rain and falls to earth because it has no other choice? or is +it brazen when it nestles for a time on the bosom of heaven's arched dome +and sinking into the fathomless depths of a blue black infinity ceases to +be itself? Is the human soul immodest when, drawn by a force it cannot +resist, it seeks a stronger soul which absorbs its ego as the blue sky +absorbs the floating cloud, as the warm earth swells the seed, as the +magnet draws the iron? All these are of one quality. The iron, the seed, +the cloud, and the soul of man are _what_ they are, do _what_ they do, +love as they love, live as they live, and die as they die because they +must--because they have no other choice. We think we are free because at +times we act as we please, forgetting that God gives us the "please," and +that every act of our being is but the result of a dictated motive. +Dorothy was not immodest. This was her case. She was the iron, the seed, +the cloud, and the rain. You, too, are the iron, the seed, the cloud, and +the rain. It is only human vanity which prompts you to believe that you +are yourself and that you are free. Do you find any freedom in this world +save that which you fondly believe to exist within yourself? Self! There +is but one self, God. I have been told that the people of the East call +Him Brahma. The word, it is said, means "Breath," "Inspiration," "All." I +have felt that the beautiful pagan thought has truth in it; but my +conscience and my priest tell me rather to cling to truths I have than to +fly to others that I know not of. As a result, I shall probably die +orthodox and mistaken. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE PITCHER GOES TO THE WELL. + + +Dorothy and I went to the inn parlors, where I received a cordial welcome +from my cousin, Lady Crawford. After our greeting, Dorothy came toward me +leading the fair, pale girl whom I had seen in the courtyard. + +"Madge, this is my cousin, Malcolm Vernon," said Dorothy. "He was a dear +friend of my childhood and is much beloved by my father. Lady Magdalene +Stanley, cousin," and she placed the girl's soft white hand in mine. There +was a peculiar hesitancy in the girl's manner which puzzled me. She did +not look at me when Dorothy placed her hand in mine, but kept her eyes +cast down, the long, black lashes resting upon the fair curves of her +cheek like a shadow on the snow. She murmured a salutation, and when I +made a remark that called for a response, she lifted her eyes but seemed +not to look at me. Unconsciously I turned my face toward Dorothy, who +closed her eyes and formed with her lips the word "blind." + +I retained the girl's hand, and she did not withdraw it. When I caught +Dorothy's unspoken word I led Lady Madge to a chair and asked if I might +sit beside her. + +"Certainly," she answered smilingly; "you know I am blind, but I can hear +and speak, and I enjoy having persons I like sit near me that I may touch +them now and then while we talk. If I could only see!" she exclaimed. +Still, there was no tone of complaint in her voice and very little even of +regret. The girl's eyes were of a deep blue and were entirely without scar +or other evidence of blindness, except that they did not seem to see. I +afterward learned that her affliction had come upon her as the result of +illness when she was a child. She was niece to the Earl of Derby, and +Dorothy's mother had been her aunt. She owned a small estate and had lived +at Haddon Hall five or six years because of the love that existed between +her and Dorothy. A strong man instinctively longs to cherish that which +needs his strength, and perhaps it was the girl's helplessness that first +appealed to me. Perhaps it was her rare, peculiar beauty, speaking +eloquently of virtue such as I had never known, that touched me. I cannot +say what the impelling cause was, but this I know: my heart went out in +pity to her, and all that was good within me--good, which I had never +before suspected--stirred in my soul, and my past life seemed black and +barren beyond endurance. Even Dorothy's marvellous beauty lacked the +subtle quality which this simple blind girl possessed. The first step in +regeneration is to see one's faults; the second is to regret them; the +third is to quit them. The first and second steps constitute repentance; +the second and third regeneration. One hour within the radius of Madge +Stanley's influence brought me to repentance. But repentance is an +everyday virtue. Should I ever achieve regeneration? That is one of the +questions this history will answer. To me, Madge Stanley's passive force +was the strongest influence for good that had ever impinged on my life. +With respect to her, morally, I was the iron, the seed, the cloud, and the +rain, for she, acting unconsciously, moved me with neither knowledge nor +volition on my part. + +Soon after my arrival at the ladies' parlor dinner was served, and after +dinner a Persian merchant was ushered in, closely followed by his +servants bearing bales of rare Eastern fabrics. A visit and a dinner at +the inn were little events that made a break in the monotony of life at +the Hall, and the ladies preferred to visit the merchant, who was stopping +at The Peacock for a time, rather than to have him take his wares to +Haddon. + +While Lady Crawford and Dorothy were revelling in Persian silks, satins, +and gold cloths, I sat by Lady Madge and was more than content that we +were left to ourselves. My mind, however, was as far from thoughts of +gallantry as if she had been a black-veiled nun. I believe I have not told +you that I was of the Holy Catholic Faith. My religion, I may say, has +always been more nominal and political than spiritual, although there ran +through it a strong vein of inherited tendencies and superstitions which +were highly colored by contempt for heresy and heretics. I was Catholic by +habit. But if I analyzed my supposed religious belief, I found that I had +none save a hatred for heresy. Heretics, as a rule, were low-born persons, +vulgarly moral, and as I had always thought, despisedly hypocritical. +Madge Stanley, however, was a Protestant, and that fact shook the +structure of my old mistakes to its foundation, and left me religionless. + +After the Persian merchant had packed his bales and departed, Dorothy and +Lady Crawford joined Madge and me near the fireplace. Soon Dorothy went +over to the window and stood there gazing into the courtyard. After a few +minutes Lady Crawford said, "Dorothy, had we not better order Dawson to +bring out the horses and coach?" Will Dawson was Sir George's forester. + +Lady Crawford repeated her question, but Dorothy was too intently watching +the scene in the courtyard to hear. I went over to her, and looking out at +the window discovered the object of Dorothy's rapt attention. There is no +need for me to tell you who it was. Irony, as you know, and as I had +learned, was harmless against this thick-skinned nymph. Of course I had no +authority to scold her, so I laughed. The object of Dorothy's attention +was about to mount his horse. He was drawing on his gauntleted gloves and +held between his teeth a cigarro. He certainly presented a handsome figure +for the eyes of an ardent girl to rest upon while he stood beneath the +window, clothed in a fashionable Paris-made suit of brown, doublet, +trunks, and hose. His high-topped boots were polished till they shone, and +his broad-rimmed hat, of soft beaver, was surmounted by a flowing plume. +Even I, who had no especial taste nor love for masculine beauty, felt my +sense of the beautiful strongly moved by the attractive picture my +new-found friend presented. His dress, manner, and bearing, polished by +the friction of life at a luxurious court, must have appeared god-like to +Dorothy. She had never travelled farther from home than Buxton and +Derby-town, and had met only the half-rustic men belonging to the +surrounding gentry and nobility of Derbyshire, Nottingham, and Stafford. +She had met but few even of them, and their lives had been spent chiefly +in drinking, hunting, and gambling--accomplishments that do not fine down +the texture of a man's nature or fit him for a lady's bower. Sir John +Manners was a revelation to Dorothy; and she, poor girl, was bewildered +and bewitched by him. + +When John had mounted and was moving away, he looked up to the window +where Dorothy stood, and a light came to her eyes and a smile to her face +which no man who knows the sum of two and two can ever mistake if he but +once sees it. + +When I saw the light in Dorothy's eyes, I knew that all the hatred that +was ever born from all the feuds that had ever lived since the quarrelling +race of man began its feuds in Eden could not make Dorothy Vernon hate the +son of her father's enemy. + +"I was--was--watching him draw smoke through the--the little stick which +he holds in his mouth, and--and blow it out again," said Dorothy, in +explanation of her attitude. She blushed painfully and continued, "I hope +you do not think--" + +"I do not think," I answered. "I would not think of thinking." + +"Of course not," she responded, with a forced smile, as she watched Sir +John pass out of sight under the arch of the innyard gate. I did not +think. I knew. And the sequel, so full of trouble, soon proved that I was +right. After John had passed through the gate, Dorothy was willing to go +home; and when Will Dawson brought the great coach to the inn door, I +mounted my horse and rode beside the ladies to Haddon Hall, two miles +north from Rowsley. + +I shall not stop to tell you of the warm welcome given me by Sir George +Vernon, nor of his delight when I briefly told him my misfortunes in +Scotland--misfortunes that had brought me to Haddon Hall. Nor shall I +describe the great boar's head supper given in my honor, at which there +were twenty men who could have put me under the table. I thought I knew +something of the art of drinking, but at that supper I soon found I was a +mere tippler compared with these country guzzlers. At that feast I learned +also that Dorothy, when she had hinted concerning Sir George's excessive +drinking, had told the truth. He, being the host, drank with all his +guests. Near midnight he grew distressingly drunk, talkative, and violent, +and when toward morning he was carried from the room by his servants, the +company broke up. Those who could do so reeled home; those who could not +walk at all were put to bed by the retainers at Haddon Hall. I had chosen +my bedroom high up in Eagle Tower. At table I had tried to remain sober. +That, however, was an impossible task, for at the upper end of the hall +there was a wrist-ring placed in the wainscoting at a height of ten or +twelve inches above the head of an ordinary man, and if he refused to +drink as much as the other guests thought he should, his wrist was +fastened above his head in the ring, and the liquor which he should have +poured down his throat was poured down his sleeve. Therefore to avoid this +species of rustic sport I drank much more than was good for me. When the +feast closed I thought I was sober enough to go to my room unassisted; so +I took a candle, and with a great show of self-confidence climbed the +spiral stone stairway to the door of my room. The threshold of my door was +two or three feet above the steps of the stairway, and after I had +contemplated the distance for a few minutes, I concluded that it would not +be safe for me to attempt to climb into my sleeping apartments without +help. Accordingly I sat down upon the step on which I had been standing, +placed my candle beside me, called loudly for a servant, received no +response, and fell asleep only to be awakened by one of Sir George's +retainers coming downstairs next morning. + +After that supper, in rapid succession, followed hunting and drinking, +feasting and dancing in my honor. At the dances the pipers furnished the +music, or, I should rather say, the noise. Their miserable wailings +reminded me of Scotland. After all, thought I, is the insidious, polished +vice of France worse than the hoggish, uncouth practices of Scotland and +of English country life? I could not endure the latter, so I asked Sir +George, on the pretext of ill health, to allow me to refuse invitations to +other houses, and I insisted that he should give no more entertainments at +Haddon Hall on my account. Sir George eagerly acquiesced in all my wishes. +In truth, I was treated like an honored guest and a member of the family, +and I congratulated myself that my life had fallen in such pleasant lines. +Dorothy and Madge became my constant companions, for Sir George's time +was occupied chiefly with his estates and with his duties as magistrate. A +feeling of rest and contentment came over me, and my past life drifted +back of me like an ever receding cloud. + +Thus passed the months of October and November. + +In the meantime events in Scotland and in England proved my wisdom in +seeking a home at Haddon Hall, and showed me how great was my good fortune +in finding it. + +Queen Mary was a prisoner at Lochleven Castle, and her brother Murray had +beheaded many of her friends. Elizabeth, hating Mary as only a plain, +envious woman can hate one who is transcendently beautiful, had, upon +different pretexts, seized many of Mary's friends who had fled to England +for sanctuary, and some of them had suffered imprisonment or death. + +Elizabeth, in many instances, had good cause for her attitude toward +Mary's friends, since plots were hatching thick and fast to liberate Mary +from Lochleven; and many such plots, undoubtedly, had for their chief end +the deposition of Elizabeth, and the enthronement of Mary as Queen of +England. + +As a strict matter of law, Mary was rightful heir to the English throne, +and Elizabeth was an usurper. Parliament, at Henry's request, had declared +that Elizabeth, his issue by Anne Boleyn, was illegitimate, and that being +true, Mary was next in line of descent. The Catholics of England took that +stand, and Mary's beauty and powers of fascination had won for her friends +even in the personal household of the Virgin Queen. Small cause for wonder +was it that Elizabeth, knowing all these facts, looked with suspicion and +fear upon Mary's refugee friends. + +The English queen well knew that Sir George Vernon was her friend, +therefore his house and his friendship were my sanctuary, without which +my days certainly would have been numbered in the land of Elizabeth, and +their number would have been small. I was dependent on Sir George not only +for a roof to shelter me, but for my very life. I speak of these things +that you may know some of the many imperative reasons why I desired to +please and conciliate my cousin. In addition to those reasons, I soon grew +to love Sir George, not only because of his kindness to me, but because he +was a lovable man. He was generous, just, and frank, and although at times +he was violent almost to the point of temporary madness, his heart was +usually gentle, and was as easily touched by kindness as it was quickly +moved to cruelty by injury, fancied or actual. I have never known a more +cruel, tender man than he. You will see him in each of his natures before +you have finished this history. But you must judge him only after you have +considered his times, which were forty years ago, his surroundings, and +his blood. + +During those two months remarkable changes occurred within the walls of +Haddon, chief of which were in myself, and, alas! in Dorothy. + +My pilgrimage to Haddon, as you already know, had been made for the +purpose of marrying my fair cousin; for I did not, at the time I left +Scotland, suppose I should need Sir George's protection against Elizabeth. +When I met Dorothy at Rowsley, my desire to marry her became personal, in +addition to the mercenary motives with which I had originally started. But +I quickly recognized the fact that the girl was beyond my reach. I knew I +could not win her love, even though I had a thousand years to try for it; +and I would not accept her hand in marriage solely at her father's +command. I also soon learned that Dorothy was the child of her father, +gentle, loving, and tender beyond the naming, but also wilful, violent, +and fierce to the extent that no command could influence her. + +First I shall speak of the change within myself. I will soon be done with +so much "I" and "me," and you shall have Dorothy to your heart's content, +or trouble, I know not which. + +Soon after my arrival at Haddon Hall the sun ushered in one of those +wonderful days known only to the English autumn, when the hush of Nature's +drowsiness, just before her long winter's sleep, imparts its soft +restfulness to man, as if it were a lotus feast. Dorothy was +ostentatiously busy with her household matters, and was consulting with +butler, cook, and steward. Sir George had ridden out to superintend his +men at work, and I, wandering aimlessly about the hail, came upon Madge +Stanley sitting in the chaplain's room with folded hands. + +"Lady Madge, will you go with me for a walk this beautiful morning?" I +asked. + +"Gladly would I go, Sir Malcolm," she responded, a smile brightening her +face and quickly fading away, "but I--I cannot walk in unfamiliar places. +I should fail. You would have to lead me by the hand, and that, I fear, +would mar the pleasure of your walk." + +"Indeed, it would not, Lady Madge. I should enjoy my walk all the more." + +"If you really wish me to go, I shall be delighted," she responded, as the +brightness came again to her face. "I sometimes grow weary, and, I +confess, a little sad sitting alone when Dorothy cannot be with me. Aunt +Dorothy, now that she has her magnifying glasses,--spectacles, I think +they are called,--devotes all her time to reading, and dislikes to be +interrupted." + +"I wish it very much," I said, surprised by the real eagerness of my +desire, and unconsciously endeavoring to keep out of the tones of my voice +a part of that eagerness. + +"I shall take you at your word," she said. "I will go to my room to get my +hat and cloak." + +She rose and began to grope her way toward the door, holding out her +white, expressive hands in front of her. It was pitiful and beautiful to +see her, and my emotions welled up in my throat till I could hardly speak. + +"Permit me to give you my hand," I said huskily. How I longed to carry +her! Every man with the right sort of a heart in his breast has a touch of +the mother instinct in him; but, alas I only a touch. Ah, wondrous and +glorious womanhood! If you had naught but the mother instinct to lift you +above your masters by the hand of man-made laws, those masters were still +unworthy to tie the strings of your shoes. + +"Thank you," said the girl, as she clasped my hand, and moved with +confidence by my side. "This is so much better than the dreadful fear of +falling. Even through these rooms where I have lived for many years I feel +safe only in a few places,--on the stairs, and in my rooms, which are also +Dorothy's. When Dorothy changes the position of a piece of furniture in +the Hall, she leads me to it several times that I may learn just where it +is. A long time ago she changed the position of a chair and did not tell +me. I fell against it and was hurt. Dorothy wept bitterly over the mishap, +and she has never since failed to tell me of such changes. I cannot make +you know how kind and tender Dorothy is to me. I feel that I should die +without her, and I know she would grieve terribly were we to part." + +I could not answer. What a very woman you will think I was! I, who could +laugh while I ran my sword through a man's heart, could hardly restrain my +tears for pity of this beautiful blind girl. + +"Thank you; that will do," she said, when we came to the foot of the great +staircase. "I can now go to my rooms alone." + +When she reached the top she hesitated and groped for a moment; then she +turned and called laughingly to me while I stood at the bottom of the +steps, "I know the way perfectly well, but to go alone in any place is not +like being led." + +"There are many ways in which one may be led, Lady Madge," I answered +aloud. Then I said to myself, "That girl will lead you to Heaven, Malcolm, +if you will permit her to do so." + +But thirty-five years of evil life are hard to neutralize. There is but +one subtle elixir that can do it--love; and I had not thought of that +magic remedy with respect to Madge. + +I hurriedly fetched my hat and returned to the foot of the staircase. +Within a minute or two Madge came down stairs holding up the skirt of her +gown with one hand, while she grasped the banister with the other. As I +watched her descending I was enraptured with her beauty. Even the +marvellous vital beauty of Dorothy could not compare with this girl's +fair, pale loveliness. It seemed to be almost a profanation for me to +admire the sweet oval of her face. Upon her alabaster skin, the black +eyebrows, the long lashes, the faint blue veins and the curving red lips +stood in exquisite relief. While she was descending the stairs, I caught a +gleam of her round, snowy forearm and wrist; and when my eyes sought the +perfect curves of her form disclosed by the clinging silk gown she wore, I +felt that I had sinned in looking upon her, and I was almost glad she +could not see the shame which was in my face. + +"Cousin Malcolm, are you waiting?" she asked from midway in the staircase. + +"Yes, I am at the foot of the steps," I answered. + +"I called you 'Cousin Malcolm,'" she said, holding out her hand when she +came near me. "Pardon me; it was a slip of the tongue. I hear 'Cousin +Malcolm' so frequently from Dorothy that the name is familiar to me." + +"I shall be proud if you will call me 'Cousin Malcolm' always. I like the +name better than any that you can use." + +"If you wish it," she said, in sweet, simple candor, "I will call you +'Cousin Malcolm,' and you may call me 'Cousin Madge' or 'Madge,' just as +you please." + +"'Cousin Madge' it shall be; that is a compact," I answered, as I opened +the door and we walked out into the fresh air of the bright October +morning. + +"That will stand for our first compact; we are progressing famously," she +said, with a low laugh of delight. + +Ah, to think that the blind can laugh. God is good. + +We walked out past the stables and the cottage, and crossed the river on +the great stone bridge. Then we took our way down the babbling Wye, +keeping close to its banks, while the dancing waters and even the gleaming +pebbles seemed to dimple and smile as they softly sang their song of +welcome to the fair kindred spirit who had come to visit them. If we +wandered from the banks for but a moment, the waters seemed to struggle +and turn in their course until they were again by her side, and then would +they gently flow and murmur their contentment as they travelled forward to +the sea, full of the memory of her sweet presence. And during all that +time I led her by the hand. I tell you, friends, 'tis sweet to write of +it. + +When we returned we crossed the Wye by the stone footbridge and entered +the garden below the terrace at the corner postern. We remained for an +hour resting upon the terrace balustrade, and before we went indoors Madge +again spoke of Dorothy. + +"I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed this walk, nor how thankful I +am to you for taking me," she said. + +I did not interrupt her by replying, for I loved to hear her talk. + +"Dorothy sometimes takes me with her for a short walk, but I seldom have +that pleasure. Walking is too slow for Dorothy. She is so strong and full +of life. She delights to ride her mare Dolcy. Have you seen Dolcy?" + +"No," I responded. + +"You must see her at once. She is the most beautiful animal in the world. +Though small of limb, she is swift as the wind, and as easy as a cradle in +her gaits. She is mettlesome and fiery, but full of affection. She often +kisses Dorothy. Mare and rider are finely mated. Dorothy is the most +perfect woman, and Dolcy is the most perfect mare. 'The two D's,' we call +them. But Dorothy says we must be careful not to put a--a dash between +them," she said with a laugh and a blush. + +Then I led Madge into the hall, and she was blithe and happy as if the +blessed light of day were in her eyes. It was in her soul, and that, after +all, is where it brings the greatest good. + +After that morning, Madge and I frequently walked out when the days were +pleasant. The autumn was mild, well into winter time, and by the end of +November the transparent cheeks of the blind girl held an exquisite tinge +of color, and her form had a new grace from the strength she had acquired +in exercise. We had grown to be dear friends, and the touch of her hand +was a pleasure for which I waited eagerly from day to day. Again I say +thoughts of love for her had never entered my mind. Perhaps their absence +was because of my feeling that they could not possibly exist in her heart +for me. + +One evening in November, after the servants had all gone to bed, Sir +George and I went to the kitchen to drink a hot punch before retiring for +the night. I drank a moderate bowl and sat in a large chair before the +fire, smoking a pipe of tobacco, while Sir George drank brandy toddy at +the massive oak table in the middle of the room. + +Sir George was rapidly growing drunk. He said: "Dawson tells me that the +queen's officers arrested another of Mary Stuart's damned French friends +at Derby-town yesterday,--Count somebody; I can't pronounce their +miserable names." + +"Can you not remember his name?" I asked. "He may be a friend of mine." My +remark was intended to remind Sir George that his language was offensive +to me. + +"That is true, Malcolm," responded Sir George. "I beg your pardon. I meant +to speak ill only of Mary's meddlesome friends, who are doing more injury +than good to their queen's cause by their plotting." + +I replied: "No one can regret these plots more than I do. They certainly +will work great injury to the cause they are intended to help. But I fear +many innocent men are made to suffer for the few guilty ones. Without your +protection, for which I cannot sufficiently thank you, my life here would +probably be of short duration. After my misfortunes in Scotland, I know +not what I should have done had it not been for your generous welcome. I +lost all in Scotland, and it would now be impossible for me to go to +France. An attempt on my part to escape would result in my arrest. Fortune +certainly has turned her capricious back upon me, with the one exception +that she has left me your friendship." + +"Malcolm, my boy," said Sir George, drawing his chair toward me, "that +which you consider your loss is my great gain. I am growing old, and if +you, who have seen so much of the gay world, will be content to live with +us and share our dulness and our cares, I shall be the happiest man in +England." + +"I thank you more than I can tell," I said, careful not to commit myself +to any course. + +"Barring my quarrel with the cursed race of Manners," continued Sir +George, "I have little to trouble me; and if you will remain with us, I +thank God I may leave the feud in good hands. Would that I were young +again only for a day that I might call that scoundrel Rutland and his imp +of a son to account in the only manner whereby an honest man may have +justice of a thief. There are but two of them, Malcolm,--father and +son,--and if they were dead, the damned race would be extinct." + +I believe that Sir George Vernon when sober could not have spoken in that +fashion even of his enemies. + +I found difficulty in replying to my cousin's remarks, so I said +evasively:-- + +"I certainly am the most fortunate of men to find so warm a welcome from +you, and so good a home as that which I have at Haddon Hall. When I met +Dorothy at the inn, I knew at once by her kindness that my friends of old +were still true to me. I was almost stunned by Dorothy's beauty." + +My mention of Dorothy was unintentional and unfortunate. I had shied from +the subject upon several previous occasions, but Sir George was +continually trying to lead up to it. This time my lack of forethought +saved him the trouble. + +"Do you really think that Doll is very beautiful--so very beautiful? Do +you really think so, Malcolm?" said the old gentleman, rubbing his hands +in pride and pleasure. + +"Surprisingly beautiful," I answered, seeking hurriedly through my mind +for an excuse to turn the conversation. I had within two months learned +one vital fact: beautiful as Dorothy was, I did not want her for my wife, +and I could not have had her even were I dying for love. The more I +learned of Dorothy and myself during the autumn through which I had just +passed--and I had learned more of myself than I had been able to discover +in the thirty-five previous years of my life--the more clearly I saw the +utter unfitness of marriage between us. + +"In all your travels," asked Sir George, leaning his elbows upon his +knees and looking at his feet between his hands, "in all your travels and +court life have you ever seen a woman who was so beautiful as my girl +Doll?" + +His pride in Dorothy at times had a tinge of egotism and selfishness. It +seemed to be almost the pride of possession and ownership. "My girl!" The +expression and the tone in which the words were spoken sounded as if he +had said: "My fine horse," "My beautiful Hall," or "My grand estates." +Dorothy was his property. Still, he loved the girl passionately. She was +dearer to him than all his horses, cattle, halls, and estates put +together, and he loved even them to excess. He loved all that he +possessed; whatever was his was the best of the sort. Such a love is apt +to grow up in the breasts of men who have descended from a long line of +proprietary ancestors, and with all its materialism it has in it +possibilities of great good. The sturdy, unflinching patriotism of the +English people springs from this source. The thought, "That which I +possess is the best," has beauty and use in it, though it leads men to +treat other men, and, alas! women, as mere chattels. All this was passing +through my mind, and I forgot to answer Sir George's question. + +"Have you ever seen a woman more beautiful than Doll?" he again asked. + +"I certainly have never seen one whose beauty may even be compared with +Dorothy's," I answered. + +"And she is young, too," continued Sir George; "she is not yet nineteen." + +"That is very young," I answered, not knowing what else to say. + +"And she will be rich some day. Very rich. I am called 'King of the Peak,' +you know, and there are not three estates in Derbyshire which, if +combined, would equal mine." + +"That is true, cousin," I answered, "and I rejoice in your good fortune." + +"Dorothy will have it all one of these days--all, all," continued my +cousin, still looking at his feet. + +After a long pause, during which Sir George took several libations from +his bowl of toddy, he cleared his throat and said, "So Dorothy is the most +beautiful girl and the richest heiress you know?" + +"Indeed she is," I responded, knowing full well what he was leading up to. +Realizing that in spite of me he would now speak his mind, I made no +attempt to turn the current of the conversation. + +After another long pause, and after several more draughts from the bowl, +my old friend and would-be benefactor said: "You may remember a little +conversation between us when you were last at Haddon six or seven years +ago, about--about Dorothy? You remember?" + +I, of course, dared not pretend that I had forgotten. + +"Yes, I remember," I responded. + +"What do you think of the proposition by this time?" asked Sir George. +"Dorothy and all she will inherit shall be yours--" + +"Stop, stop, Sir George!" I exclaimed. "You do not know what you say. No +one but a prince or a great peer of the realm is worthy of aspiring to +Dorothy's hand. When she is ready to marry you should take her to London +court, where she can make her choice from among the nobles of our land. +There is not a marriageable duke or earl in England who would not eagerly +seek the girl for a wife. My dear cousin, your generosity overwhelms me, +but it must not be thought of. I am utterly unworthy of her in person, +age, and position. No! no!" + +"But listen to me, Malcolm," responded Sir George. "Your modesty, which, +in truth, I did not know you possessed, is pleasing to me; but I have +reasons of my own for wishing that you should marry Dorothy. I want my +estates to remain in the Vernon name, and one day you or your children +will make my house and my name noble. You and Dorothy shall go to court, +and between you--damme! if you can't win a dukedom, I am no prophet. You +would not object to change your faith, would you?" + +"Oh, no," I responded, "of course I should not object to that." + +"Of course not. I knew you were no fool," said Sir George. "Age! why, you +are only thirty-five years old--little more than a matured boy. I prefer +you to any man in England for Dorothy's husband." + +"You overwhelm me with your kindness," I returned, feeling that I was +being stranded on a very dangerous shore, amidst wealth and beauty. + +"Tut, tut, there's no kindness in it," returned my cousin. "I do not offer +you Dorothy's hand from an unselfish motive. I have told you one motive, +but there is another, and a little condition besides, Malcolm." The brandy +Sir George had been drinking had sent the devil to his brain. + +"What is the condition?" I asked, overjoyed to hear that there was one. + +The old man leaned toward me and a fierce blackness overclouded his face. +"I am told, Malcolm, that you have few equals in swordsmanship, and that +the duello is not new to you. Is it true?" + +"I believe I may say it is true," I answered. "I have fought successfully +with some of the most noted duellists of--" + +"Enough, enough! Now, this is the condition, Malcolm,--a welcome one to +you, I am sure; a welcome one to any brave man." His eyes gleamed with +fire and hatred. "Quarrel with Rutland and his son and kill both of them." + +I felt like recoiling from the old fiend. I had often quarrelled and +fought, but, thank God, never in cold blood and with deliberate intent to +do murder. + +"Then Dorothy and all I possess shall be yours," said Sir George. "The old +one will be an easy victim. The young one, they say, prides himself on his +prowess. I do not know with what cause, I have never seen him fight. In +fact, I have never seen the fellow at all. He has lived at London court +since he was a child, and has seldom, if ever, visited this part of the +country. He was a page both to Edward VI. and to Queen Mary. Why Elizabeth +keeps the damned traitor at court to plot against her is more than I can +understand. Do the conditions suit you, Malcolm?" asked Sir George, +piercing me with his eyes. + +I did not respond, and he continued: "All I ask is your promise to kill +Rutland and his son at the first opportunity. I care not how. The marriage +may come off at once. It can't take place too soon to please me." + +I could not answer for a time. The power to speak and to think had left +me. To accept Sir George's offer was out of the question. To refuse it +would be to give offence beyond reparation to my only friend, and you know +what that would have meant to me. My refuge was Dorothy. I knew, however +willing I might be or might appear to be, Dorothy would save me the +trouble and danger of refusing her hand. So I said:-- + +"We have not consulted Dorothy. Perhaps her inclinations--" + +"Doll's inclinations be damned. I have always been kind and indulgent to +her, and she is a dutiful, obedient daughter. My wish and command in this +affair will furnish inclinations enough for Doll." + +"But, Sir George," I remonstrated, "I would not accept the hand of Dorothy +nor of any woman unless she desired it. I could not. I could not." + +"If Doll consents, I am to understand that you accept?" asked Sir George. + +I saw no way out of the dilemma, and to gain time I said, "Few men in +their right mind would refuse so flattering an offer unless there were a +most potent reason, and I--I--" + +"Good! good! I shall go to bed happy to-night for the first time in years. +The Rutlands will soon be out of my path." + +There is a self-acting retribution in our evil passions which never fails +to operate. One who hates must suffer, and Sir George for years had paid +the penalty night and day, unconscious that his pain was of his own +making. + +Before we parted I said, "This is a delicate matter, with reference to +Dorothy, and I insist that you give me time to win, if possible, her +kindly regard before you express to her your wish." + +"Nonsense, nonsense, Malcolm! I'll tell the girl about it in the morning, +and save you the trouble. The women will want to make some new gowns +and--" + +"But," I interrupted emphatically, "I will not have it so. It is every +man's sweet privilege to woo the woman of his choice in his own way. It is +not a trouble to me; it is a pleasure, and it is every woman's right to be +wooed by the man who seeks her. I again insist that I only shall speak to +Dorothy on this subject. At least, I demand that I be allowed to speak +first." + +"That's all damned nonsense," responded Sir George; "but if you will have +it so, well and good. Take your own course. I suppose it's the fashion at +court. The good old country way suits me. A girl's father tells her whom +she is to marry, and, by gad, she does it without a word and is glad to +get a man. English girls obey their parents. They know what to expect if +they don't--the lash, by God and the dungeon under the keep. Your +roundabout method is all right for tenants and peasants; but among people +who possess estates and who control vast interests, girls are--girls +are--Well, they are born and brought up to obey and to help forward the +interests of their houses." The old man was growing very drunk, and after +a long pause he continued: "Have your own way, Malcolm, but don't waste +time. Now that the matter is settled, I want to get it off my hands +quickly." + +"I shall speak to Dorothy on the subject at the first favorable +opportunity," I responded; "but I warn you, Sir George, that if Dorothy +proves disinclined to marry me, I will not accept her hand." + +"Never fear for Doll; she will be all right," and we parted. + +Doll all right! Had he only known how very far from "all right" Dorothy +was, he would have slept little that night. + +This brings me to the other change of which I spoke--the change in +Dorothy. Change? It was a metamorphosis. + +A fortnight after the scene at The Peacock I accidentally discovered a +drawing made by Dorothy of a man with a cigarro in his mouth. The girl +snatched the paper from my hands and blushed convincingly. + +"It is a caricature of--of him," she said. She smiled, and evidently was +willing to talk upon the subject of "him." I declined the topic. + +This happened a month or more previous to my conversation with Sir George +concerning Dorothy. A few days after my discovery of the cigarro picture, +Dorothy and I were out on the terrace together. Frequently when she was +with me she would try to lead the conversation to the topic which I well +knew was in her mind, if not in her heart, at all times. She would speak +of our first meeting at The Peacock, and would use every artifice to +induce me to bring up the subject which she was eager to discuss, but I +always failed her. On the day mentioned when we were together on the +terrace, after repeated failures to induce me to speak upon the desired +topic, she said, "I suppose you never meet--meet--him when you ride out?" + +"Whom, Dorothy?" I asked. + +"The gentleman with the cigarro," she responded, laughing nervously. + +"No," I answered, "I know nothing of him." + +The subject was dropped. + +At another time she said, "He was in the village--Overhaddon--yesterday." + +Then I knew who "him" was. + +"How do you know?" I asked. + +"Jennie Faxton, the farrier's daughter, told me. She often comes to the +Hall to serve me. She likes to act as my maid, and is devoted to me." + +"Did he send any word to you?" I asked at a venture. The girl blushed and +hung her head. "N-o," she responded. + +"What was it, Dorothy?" I asked gently. "You may trust me." + +"He sent no word to me," the girl responded. "Jennie said she heard two +gentlemen talking about me in front of the farrier's shop, and one of them +said something about--oh, I don't know what it was. I can't tell you. It +was all nonsense, and of course he did not mean it." + +"Tell me all, Dorothy," I said, seeing that she really wanted to speak. + +"Oh, he said something about having seen Sir George Vernon's daughter at +Rowsley, and--and--I can't tell you what he said, I am too full of shame." +If her cheeks told the truth, she certainly was "full of shame." + +"Tell me all, sweet cousin; I am sorry for you," I said. She raised her +eyes to mine in quick surprise with a look of suspicion. + +"You may trust me, Dorothy. I say it again, you may trust me." + +"He spoke of my beauty and called it marvellous," said the girl. "He said +that in all the world there was not another woman--oh, I can't tell you." + +"Yes, yes, go on, Dorothy," I insisted. + +"He said," she continued, "that he could think of nothing else but me day +or night since he had first seen me at Rowsley--that I had bewitched him +and--and--Then the other gentleman said, 'John, don't play with fire; it +will burn you. Nothing good can come of it for you.'" + +"Did Jennie know who the gentleman was?" I asked. + +"No," returned Dorothy. + +"How do you know who he was?" + +"Jennie described him," she said. + +"How did she describe him?" I asked. + +"She said he was--he was the handsomest man in the world and--and that he +affected her so powerfully she fell in love with him in spite of herself. +The little devil, to dare! You see that describes him perfectly." + +I laughed outright, and the girl blushed painfully. + +"It does describe him," she said petulantly. "You know it does. No one can +gainsay that he is wonderfully, dangerously handsome. I believe the woman +does not live who could refrain from feasting her eyes on his noble +beauty. I wonder if I shall ever again--again." Tears were in her voice +and almost in her eyes. + +"Dorothy! My God, Dorothy!" I exclaimed in terror. + +"Yes! yes! My God, Dorothy!" she responded, covering her face with her +hands and sighing deeply, as she dropped her head and left me. + +Yes, yes, my God, Dorothy! The helpless iron and the terrible loadstone! +The passive seed! The dissolving cloud and the falling rain! + +Less than a week after the above conversation, Dorothy, Madge, and I were +riding from Yulegrave Church up to the village of Overhaddon, which lies +one mile across the hills from Haddon Hall. My horse had cast a shoe, and +we stopped at Faxton's shop to have him shod. The town well is in the +middle of an open space called by the villagers "The Open," around which +are clustered the half-dozen houses and shops that constitute the village. +The girls were mounted, and I was standing beside them in front of the +farrier's, waiting for my horse. Jennie Faxton, a wild, unkempt girl of +sixteen, was standing in silent admiration near Dorothy. Our backs were +turned toward the well. Suddenly a light came into Jennie's face, and she +plucked Dorothy by the skirt of her habit. + +"Look, mistress, look! Look there by the well!" said Jennie in a whisper. +Dorothy looked toward the well. I also turned my head and beheld my +friend, Sir John, holding a bucket of water for his horse to drink. I had +not seen him since we parted at The Peacock, and I did not show that I +recognized him. I feared to betray our friendship to the villagers. They, +however, did not know Sir John, and I need not have been so cautious. But +Dorothy and Madge were with me, and of course I dared not make any +demonstration of acquaintanceship with the enemy of our house. + +Dorothy watched John closely, and when he was ready to mount she struck +her horse with the whip, and boldly rode to the well. + +"May I ask you to give my mare water?" she said. + +"Certainly. Ah, I beg pardon. I did not understand," answered Sir John, +confusedly. John, the polished, self-poised courtier, felt the confusion +of a country rustic in the presence of this wonderful girl, whose +knowledge of life had been acquired within the precincts of Haddon Hall. +Yet the inexperienced girl was self-poised and unconfused, while the wits +of the courtier, who had often calmly flattered the queen, had all gone +wool-gathering. + +She repeated her request. + +"Certainly," returned John, "I--I knew what you said--but--but you +surprise me." + +"Yes," said brazen Dorothy, "I have surprised myself." + +John, in his haste to satisfy Dolcy's thirst, dashed the water against the +skirt of Dorothy's habit, and was profuse in his apologies. + +"Do not mention it," said Dorothy. "I like a damp habit. The wind cannot +so easily blow it about," and she laughed as she shook the garment to free +it of the water. Dolcy refused to drink, and Dorothy having no excuse to +linger at the well, drew up her reins and prepared to leave. While doing +so, she said:-- + +"Do you often come to Overhaddon?" Her eager eyes shone like red coals, +and looking at John, she awaited smilingly his response. + +"Seldom," answered John; "not often. I mean every day--that is, if I may +come." + +"Any one may come to the village whenever he wishes to do so," responded +Dorothy, laughing too plainly at Sir John's confusion. "Is it seldom, or +not often, or every day that you come?" In her overconfidence she was +chaffing him. He caught the tone, and looked quickly into the girl's eyes. +Her gaze could not stand against John's for a moment, and the long lashes +drooped to shade her eyes from the fierce light of his. + +"I said I would come to Overhaddon every day," he returned; "and although +I must have appeared very foolish in my confusion, you cannot +misunderstand the full meaning of my words." + +In John's boldness and in the ring of his voice Dorothy felt the touch of +her master, against whom she well knew all the poor force she could muster +would be utterly helpless. She was frightened, and said:-- + +"I--I must go. Good-by." + +When she rode away from him she thought: "I believed because of his +confusion that I was the stronger. I could not stand against him for a +moment. Holy Virgin! what have I done, and to what am I coming?" + +You may now understand the magnitude of the task which Sir George had set +for me when he bade me marry his daughter and kill the Rutlands. I might +perform the last-named feat, but dragon fighting would be mere child's +play compared with the first, while the girl's heart was filled with the +image of another man. + +I walked forward to meet Dorothy, leaving Madge near the farrier's shop. + +"Dorothy, are you mad? What have you been doing?" I asked. + +"Could you not see?" she answered, under her breath, casting a look of +warning toward Madge and a glance of defiance at me. "Are you, too, blind? +Could you not see what I was doing?" + +"Yes," I responded. + +"Then why do you ask?" + +As I went back to Madge I saw John ride out of the village by the south +road. I afterward learned that he rode gloomily back to Rutland Castle +cursing himself for a fool. His duty to his father, which with him was a +strong motive, his family pride, his self love, his sense of caution, all +told him that he was walking open-eyed into trouble. He had tried to +remain away from the vicinity of Haddon Hall, but, despite his +self-respect and self-restraint, he had made several visits to Rowsley and +to Overhaddon, and at one time had ridden to Bakewell, passing Haddon +Hall on his way thither. He had as much business in the moon as at +Overhaddon, yet he told Dorothy he would be at the village every day, and +she, it seemed, was only too willing to give him opportunities to transact +his momentous affairs. + +As the floating cloud to the fathomless blue, as the seed to the earth, as +the iron to the lodestone, so was Dorothy unto John. + +Thus you see our beautiful pitcher went to the well and was broken. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE GOLDEN HEART + + +The day after Dorothy's first meeting with Manners at Overhaddon she was +restless and nervous, and about the hour of three in the afternoon she +mounted Dolcy and rode toward Bakewell. That direction, I was sure, she +took for the purpose of misleading us at the Hall, and I felt confident +she would, when once out of sight, head her mare straight for Overhaddon. +Within an hour Dorothy was home again, and very ill-tempered. + +The next day she rode out in the morning. I asked her if I should ride +with her, and the emphatic "No" with which she answered me left no room +for doubt in my mind concerning her desire for my company or her +destination. Again she returned within an hour and hurried to her +apartments. Shortly afterward Madge asked me what Dorothy was weeping +about; and although in my own mind I was confident of the cause of +Dorothy's tears, I, of course, did not give Madge a hint of my suspicion. +Yet I then knew, quite as well as I now know, that John, notwithstanding +the important business which he said would bring him to Overhaddon every +day, had forced himself to remain at home, and Dorothy, in consequence, +suffered from anger and wounded pride. She had twice ridden to Overhaddon +to meet him. She had done for his sake that which she knew she should have +left undone, and he had refused the offering. A smarting conscience, an +aching heart, and a breast full of anger were Dorothy's rewards for her +evil doing. The day after her second futile trip to Overhaddon, I, to test +her, spoke of John. She turned upon me with the black look of a fury, and +hurled her words at me. + +"Never again speak his despised name in my hearing. Curse him and his +whole race." + +"Now what has he been doing?" I asked. + +"I tell you, I will not speak of him, nor will I listen to you," and she +dashed away from me like a fiery whirlwind. + +Four or five days later the girl rode out again upon Dolcy. She was away +from home for four long hours, and when she returned she was so gentle, +sweet, and happy that she was willing to kiss every one in the household +from Welch, the butcher, to Sir George. She was radiant. She clung to +Madge and to me, and sang and romped through the house like Dorothy of +old. + +Madge said, "I am so glad you are feeling better, Dorothy." Then, speaking +to me: "She has been ill for several days. She could not sleep." + +Dorothy looked quickly over to me, gave a little shrug to her shoulders, +bent forward her face, which was red with blushing, and kissed Madge +lingeringly upon the lips. + +The events of Dorothy's trip I soon learned from her. + +The little scene between Dorothy, Madge, and myself, after Dorothy's +joyful return, occurred a week before the momentous conversation between +Sir George and me concerning my union with his house. Ten days after Sir +George had offered me his daughter and his lands, he brought up the +subject again. He and I were walking on the ridge of Bowling Green Hill. + +"I am glad you are making such fair progress with Doll," said Sir George. +"Have you yet spoken to her upon the subject?" + +I was surprised to hear that I had made any progress. In fact, I did not +know that I had taken a single step. I was curious to learn in what the +progress consisted, so I said:-- + +"I have not spoken to Dorothy yet concerning the marriage, and I fear that +I have made no progress at all. She certainly is friendly enough to me, +but--" + +"I should say that the gift from you she exhibited would indicate +considerable progress," said Sir George, casting an expressive glance +toward me. + +"What gift?" I stupidly inquired. + +"The golden heart, you rascal. She said you told her it had belonged to +your mother." + +"Holy Mother of Truth!" thought I, "pray give your especial care to my +cousin Dorothy. She needs it." + +Sir George thrust at my side with his thumb and continued:-- + +"Don't deny it, Malcolm. Damme, you are as shy as a boy in this matter. +But perhaps you know better than I how to go at her. I was thinking only +the other day that your course was probably the right one. Doll, I +suspect, has a dash of her old father's temper, and she may prove a little +troublesome unless we let her think she is having her own way. Oh, there +is nothing like knowing how to handle them, Malcolm. Just let them think +they are having their own way and--and save trouble. Doll may have more of +her father in her than I suspect, and perhaps it is well for us to move +slowly. You will be able to judge, but you must not move too slowly. If in +the end she should prove stubborn, we will break her will or break her +neck. I would rather have a daughter in Bakewell churchyard than a wilful, +stubborn, disobedient huzzy in Haddon Hall." + +[Illustration] + +Sir George had been drinking, and my slip concerning the gift passed +unnoticed by him. + +"I am sure you well know how to proceed in this matter, but don't be too +cautious, Malcolm; the best woman living loves to be stormed." + +"Trust me," I answered, "I shall speak--" and my words unconsciously sank +away to thought, as thought often, and inconveniently at times, grows into +words. + +"Dorothy, Dorothy," said the thoughts again and again, "where came you by +the golden heart?" and "where learned you so villanously to lie?" + +"From love," was the response, whispered by the sighing winds. "From love, +that makes men and women like unto gods and teaches them the tricks of +devils." "From love," murmured the dry rustling leaves and the rugged +trees. "From love," sighed the fleecy clouds as they floated in the sweet +restful azure of the vaulted sky. "From love," cried the mighty sun as he +poured his light and heat upon the eager world to give it life. I would +not give a fig for a woman, however, who would not lie herself black in +the face for the sake of her lover, and I am glad that it is a virtue few +women lack. One who would scorn to lie under all other circumstances +would--but you understand. I suppose that Dorothy had never before uttered +a real lie. She hated all that was evil and loved all that was good till +love came a-teaching. + +I quickly invented an excuse to leave Sir George, and returned to the Hall +to seek Dorothy. I found her and asked her to accompany me for a few +minutes that I might speak with her privately. We went out upon the +terrace and I at once began:-- + +"You should tell me when I present you gifts that I may not cause trouble +by my ignorance nor show surprise when I suddenly learn what I have done. +You see when a man gives a lady a gift and he does not know it, he is apt +to--" + +"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Dorothy, pale with fear and consternation. "Did +you--" + +"No, I did not betray you, but I came perilously near it." + +"I--I wanted to tell you about it. I tried several times to do so--I did +so long to tell somebody, but I could not bring myself to speak. I was +full of shame, yet I was proud and happy, for all that happened was good +and pure and sacred. You are not a woman; you cannot know--" + +"But I do know. I know that you saw Manners the other day, and that he +gave you a golden heart." + +"How did you know? Did any one--" + +"Tell me? No. I knew it when you returned after five hours' absence, +looking radiant as the sun." + +"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, with a startled movement. + +"I also knew," I continued, "that at other times when you rode out upon +Dolcy you had not seen him." + +"How did you know?" she asked, with quick-coming breath. + +"By your ill-humor," I answered. + +"I knew it was so. I felt that everybody knew all that I had been doing. I +could almost see father and Madge and you--even the servants--reading the +wickedness written upon my heart. I knew that I could hide it from +nobody." Tears were very near the girl's eyes. + +"We cannot help thinking that our guilty consciences, through which we see +so plainly our own evil, are transparent to all the world. In that fact +lies an evil-doer's greatest danger," said I, preacher fashion; "but you +need have no fear. What you have done I believe is suspected by no one +save me." + +A deep sigh of relief rose from the girl's heaving breast. + +"Well," she began, "I will tell you all about it, and I am only too glad +to do so. It is heavy, Malcolm, heavy on my conscience. But I would not +be rid of it for all the kingdoms of the earth." + +"A moment since you told me that your conduct was good and pure and +sacred, and now you tell me that it is heavy on your conscience. Does one +grieve, Dorothy, for the sake of that which is good and pure and sacred?" + +"I cannot answer your question," she replied. "I am no priest. But this I +know: I have done no evil, and my conscience nevertheless is sore. Solve +me the riddle, Malcolm, if you can." + +"I cannot solve your riddle, Dorothy," I replied; "but I feel sure it will +be far safer for each of us if you will tell me all that happens +hereafter." + +"I am sure you are right," she responded; "but some secrets are so +delicious that we love to suck their sweets alone. I believe, however, +your advice is good, and I will tell you all that has happened, though I +cannot look you in the face while doing it." She hesitated a moment, and +her face was red with tell-tale blushes. She continued, "I have acted most +unmaidenly." + +"Unmaidenly perhaps, but not unwomanly," said I. + +"I thank you," she said, interrupting my sentence. It probably was well +that she did so, for I was about to add, "To act womanly often means to +get yourself into mischief and your friends into as much trouble as +possible." Had I finished my remark, she would not have thanked me. + +"Well," said the girl, beginning her laggard narrative, "after we saw--saw +him at Overhaddon, you know, I went to the village on each of three +days--" + +"Yes, I know that also," I said. + +"How did you--but never mind. I did not see him, and when I returned home +I felt angry and hurt and--and--but never mind that either. One day I +found him, and I at once rode to the well where he was standing by his +horse. He drew water for Dolcy, but the perverse mare would not drink." + +"A characteristic of her sex," I muttered. + +"What did you say?" asked the girl. + +"Nothing." + +She continued: "He seemed constrained and distant in his manner, but I +knew, that is, I thought--I mean I felt--oh, you know--he looked as if he +were glad to see me and I--I, oh, God! I was so glad and happy to see him +that I could hardly restrain myself to act at all maidenly. He must have +heard my heart beat. I thought he was in trouble. He seemed to have +something he wished to say to me." + +"He doubtless had a great deal he wished to say to you," said I, again +tempted to futile irony. + +"I was sure he had something to say," the girl returned seriously. "He was +in trouble. I knew that he was, and I longed to help him." + +"What trouble?" I inquired. + +"Oh, I don't know. I forgot to ask, but he looked troubled." + +"Doubtless he was troubled," I responded. "He had sufficient cause for +trouble," I finished the sentence to myself with the words, "in you." + +"What was the cause of his trouble?" she hastily asked, turning her face +toward me. + +"I do not know certainly," I answered in a tone of irony which should have +pierced an oak board, while the girl listened and looked at me eagerly; +"but I might guess." + +"What was it? What was it? Let me hear you guess," she asked. + +"You," I responded laconically. + +"I!" she exclaimed in surprise. + +"Yes, you," I responded with emphasis. "You would bring trouble to any +man, but to Sir John Manners--well, if he intends to keep up these +meetings with you it would be better for his peace and happiness that he +should get him a house in hell, for he would live there more happily than +on this earth." + +"That is a foolish, senseless remark, Malcolm," the girl replied, tossing +her head with a show of anger in her eyes. "This is no time to jest." I +suppose I could not have convinced her that I was not jesting. + +"At first we did not speak to each other even to say good day, but stood +by the well in silence for a very long time. The village people were +staring at us, and I felt that every window had a hundred faces in it, and +every face a hundred eyes." + +"You imagined that," said I, "because of your guilty conscience." + +"Perhaps so. But it seemed to me that we stood by the well in silence a +very long time. You see, Cousin Malcolm, I was not the one who should +speak first. I had done more than my part in going to meet him." + +"Decidedly so," said I, interrupting the interesting narrative. + +"When I could bear the gaze of the villagers no longer, I drew up my reins +and started to leave The Open by the north road. After Dolcy had climbed +halfway up North Hill, which as you know overlooks the village, I turned +my head and saw Sir John still standing by the well, resting his hand upon +his horse's mane. He was watching me. I grew angry, and determined that he +should follow me, even if I had to call him. So I drew Dolcy to a stand. +Was not that bold in me? But wait, there is worse to come, Malcolm. He did +not move, but stood like a statue looking toward me. I knew that he wanted +to come, so after a little time I--I beckoned to him and--and then he came +like a thunderbolt. Oh! it was delicious. I put Dolcy to a gallop, for +when he started toward me I was frightened. Besides I did not want him to +overtake me till we were out of the village. But when once he had started, +he did not wait. He was as swift now as he had been slow, and my heart +throbbed and triumphed because of his eagerness, though in truth I was +afraid of him. Dolcy, you know, is very fleet, and when I touched her with +the whip she soon put half a mile between me and the village. Then I +brought her to a walk and--and he quickly overtook me. + +"When he came up to me he said: 'I feared to follow you, though I ardently +wished to do so. I dreaded to tell you my name lest you should hate me. +Sir Malcolm at The Peacock said he would not disclose to you my identity. +I am John Manners. Our fathers are enemies.' + +"Then I said to him, 'That is the reason I wish to talk to you. I wished +you to come to meet me because I wanted to tell you that I regret and +deplore the feud between our fathers.'--'Ah, you wished me to come?' he +asked.--'Of course I did,' I answered, 'else why should I be here?'--'No +one regrets the feud between our houses so deeply as I,' replied Sir John. +'I can think of nothing else by day, nor can I dream of anything else by +night. It is the greatest cause for grief and sorrow that has ever come +into my life.' You see, Cousin Malcolm," the girl continued, "I was right. +His father's conduct does trouble him. Isn't he noble and broad-minded to +see the evil of his father's ways?" + +I did not tell the girl that Sir John's regret for the feud between the +houses of Manners and Vernon grew out of the fact that it separated him +from her; nor did I tell her that he did not grieve over his "father's +ways." + +I asked, "Did Sir John tell you that he grieved because of his father's +ill-doing?" + +"N-o, not in set terms, but--that, of course, would have been very hard +for him to say. I told you what he said, and there could be no other +meaning to his words." + +"Of course not," I responded. + +"No, and I fairly longed to reach out my hand and clutch him, +because--because I was so sorry for him." + +"Was sorrow your only feeling?" I asked. + +The girl looked at me for a moment, and her eyes filled with tears. Then +she sobbed gently and said, "Oh, Cousin Malcolm, you are so old and so +wise." ("Thank you," thought I, "a second Daniel come to judgment at +thirty-five; or Solomon and Methuselah in one.") She continued: "Tell me, +tell me, what is this terrible thing that has come upon me. I seem to be +living in a dream. I am burning with a fever, and a heavy weight is here +upon my breast. I cannot sleep at night. I can do nothing but long and +yearn for--for I know not what--till at times it seems that some +frightful, unseen monster is slowly drawing the heart out of my bosom. I +think of--of him at all times, and I try to recall his face, and the tones +of his voice until, Cousin Malcolm, I tell you I am almost mad. I call +upon the Holy Virgin hour by hour to pity me; but she is pure, and cannot +know what I feel. I hate and loathe myself. To what am I coming? Where +will it all end? Yet I can do nothing to save myself. I am powerless +against this terrible feeling. I cannot even resolve to resist it. It came +upon me mildly that day at The Peacock Inn, when I first saw him, and it +grows deeper and stronger day by day, and, alas! night by night. I seem to +have lost myself. In some strange way I feel as if I had sunk into +him--that he had absorbed me." + +"The iron, the seed, the cloud, and the rain," thought I. + +"I believed," continued the girl, "that if he would exert his will I might +have relief; but there again I find trouble, for I cannot bring myself to +ask him to will it. The feeling within me is like a sore heart: painful as +it is, I must keep it. Without it I fear I could not live." + +After this outburst there was a long pause during which she walked by my +side, seemingly unconscious that I was near her. I had known for some time +that Dorothy was interested in Manners; but I was not prepared to see such +a volcano of passion. I need not descant upon the evils and dangers of the +situation. The thought that first came to me was that Sir George would +surely kill his daughter before he would allow her to marry a son of +Rutland. I was revolving in my mind how I should set about to mend the +matter when Dorothy again spoke. + +"Tell me, Cousin Malcolm, can a man throw a spell over a woman and bewitch +her?" + +"I do not know. I have never heard of a man witch," I responded. + +"No?" asked the girl. + +"But," I continued, "I do know that a woman may bewitch a man. John +Manners, I doubt not, could also testify knowingly on the subject by this +time." + +"Oh, do you think he is bewitched?" cried Dorothy, grasping my arm and +looking eagerly into my face. "If I could bewitch him, I would do it. I +would deal with the devil gladly to learn the art. I would not care for my +soul. I do not fear the future. The present is a thousand-fold dearer to +me than either the past or the future. I care not what comes hereafter. I +want him now. Ah, Malcolm, pity my shame." + +She covered her face with her hands, and after a moment continued: "I am +not myself. I belong not to myself. But if I knew that he also suffers, I +do believe my pain would be less." + +"I think you may set your heart at rest upon that point," I answered. "He, +doubtless, also suffers." + +"I hope so," she responded, unconscious of the selfish wish she had +expressed. "If he does not, I know not what will be my fate." + +I saw that I had made a mistake in assuring her that John also suffered, +and I determined to correct it later on, if possible. + +Dorothy was silent, and I said, "You have not told me about the golden +heart." + +"I will tell you," she answered. "We rode for two hours or more, and +talked of the weather and the scenery, until there was nothing more to be +said concerning either. Then Sir John told me of the court in London, +where he has always lived, and of the queen whose hair, he says, is red, +but not at all like mine. I wondered if he would speak of the beauty of my +hair, but he did not. He only looked at it. Then he told me about the +Scottish queen whom he once met when he was on an embassy to Edinburgh. He +described her marvellous beauty, and I believe he sympathizes with her +cause--that is, with her cause in Scotland. He says she has no good cause +in England. He is true to our queen. Well--well he talked so interestingly +that I could have listened a whole month--yes, all my life." + +"I suppose you could," I said. + +"Yes," she continued, "but I could not remain longer from home, and when I +left him he asked me to accept a keepsake which had belonged to his +mother, as a token that there should be no feud between him and me." And +she drew from her bosom a golden heart studded with diamonds and pierced +by a white silver arrow. + +"I, of course, accepted it, then we said 'good-by,' and I put Dolcy to a +gallop that she might speedily take me out of temptation." + +"Have you ridden to Overhaddon for the purpose of seeing Manners many +times since he gave you the heart?" I queried. + +"What would you call 'many times'?" she asked, drooping her head. + +"Every day?" I said interrogatively. She nodded. "Yes. But I have seen +him only once since the day when he gave me the heart." + +Nothing I could say would do justice to the subject, so I remained silent. + +"But you have not yet told me how your father came to know of the golden +heart," I said. + +"It was this way: One morning while I was looking at the heart, father +came upon me suddenly before I could conceal it. He asked me to tell him +how I came by the jewel, and in my fright and confusion I could think of +nothing else to say, so I told him you had given it to me. He promised not +to speak to you about the heart, but he did not keep his word. He seemed +pleased." + +"Doubtless he was pleased," said I, hoping to lead up to the subject so +near to Sir George's heart, but now farther than ever from mine. + +The girl unsuspectingly helped me. + +"Father asked if you had spoken upon a subject of great interest to him +and to yourself, and I told him you had not. 'When he does speak,' said +father most kindly, 'I want you to grant his request'--and I will grant +it, Cousin Malcolm." She looked in my face and continued: "I will grant +your request, whatever it may be. You are the dearest friend I have in the +world, and mine is the most loving and lovable father that girl ever had. +It almost breaks my heart when I think of his suffering should he learn of +what I have done--that which I just told to you." She walked beside me +meditatively for a moment and said, "To-morrow I will return Sir John's +gift and I will never see him again." + +I felt sure that by to-morrow she would have repented of her repentance; +but I soon discovered that I had given her much more time than she needed +to perform that trifling feminine gymnastic, for with the next breath she +said:-- + +"I have no means of returning the heart. I must see him once more and I +will give--give it--it--back to--to him, and will tell him that I can see +him never again." She scarcely had sufficient resolution to finish telling +her intention. Whence, then, would come the will to put it in action? +Forty thieves could not have stolen the heart from her, though she thought +she was honest when she said she would take it to him. + +"Dorothy," said I, seriously but kindly, "have you and Sir John spoken +of--" + +She evidently knew that I meant to say "of love," for she interrupted me. + +"N-o, but surely he knows. And I--I think--at least I hope with all my +heart that--" + +"I will take the heart to Sir John," said I, interrupting her angrily, +"and you need not see him again. He has acted like a fool and a knave. He +is a villain, Dorothy, and I will tell him as much in the most emphatic +terms I have at my command." + +"Dare you speak against him or to him upon the subject!" she exclaimed, +her eyes blazing with anger; "you--you asked for my confidence and I gave +it. You said I might trust you and I did so, and now you show me that I am +a fool indeed. Traitor!" + +"My dear cousin," said I, seeing that she spoke the truth in charging me +with bad faith, "your secret is safe with me. I swear it by my knighthood. +You may trust me. I spoke in anger. But Sir John has acted badly. That you +cannot gainsay. You, too, have done great evil. That also you cannot +gainsay." + +"No," said the girl, dejectedly, "I cannot deny it; but the greatest evil +is yet to come." + +"You must do something," I continued. "You must take some decisive step +that will break this connection, and you must take the step at once if you +would save yourself from the frightful evil that is in store for you. +Forgive me for what I said, sweet cousin. My angry words sprang from my +love for you and my fear for your future." + +No girl's heart was more tender to the influence of kindness than +Dorothy's. No heart was more obdurate to unkindness or peremptory command. + +My words softened her at once, and she tried to smother the anger I had +aroused. But she did not entirely succeed, and a spark remained which in a +moment or two created a disastrous conflagration. You shall hear. + +She walked by my side in silence for a little time, and then spoke in a +low, slightly sullen tone which told of her effort to smother her +resentment. + +"I do trust you, Cousin Malcolm. What is it that you wish to ask of me? +Your request is granted before it is made." + +"Do not be too sure of that, Dorothy," I replied. "It is a request your +father ardently desires me to make, and I do not know how to speak to you +concerning the subject in the way I wish." + +I could not ask her to marry me, and tell her with the same breath that I +did not want her for my wife. I felt I must wait for a further opportunity +to say that I spoke only because her father had required me to do so, and +that circumstances forced me to put the burden of refusal upon her. I well +knew that she would refuse me, and then I intended to explain. + +"Why, what is it all about?" asked the girl in surprise, suspecting, I +believe, what was to follow. + +"It is this: your father is anxious that his vast estates shall not pass +out of the family name, and he wishes you to be my wife, so that your +children may bear the loved name of Vernon." + +I could not have chosen a more inauspicious time to speak. She looked at +me for an instant in surprise, turning to scorn. Then she spoke in tones +of withering contempt. + +"Tell my father that I shall never bear a child by the name of Vernon. I +would rather go barren to my grave. Ah! that is why Sir John Manners is a +villain? That is why a decisive step should be taken? That is why you come +to my father's house a-fortune-hunting? After you have squandered your +patrimony and have spent a dissolute youth in profligacy, after the women +of the class you have known will have no more of you but choose younger +men, you who are old enough to be my father come here and seek your +fortune, as your father sought his, by marriage. I do not believe that my +father wishes me to--to marry you. You have wheedled him into giving his +consent when he was in his cups. But even if he wished it with all his +heart, I would not marry you." Then she turned and walked rapidly toward +the Hall. + +Her fierce words angered me; for in the light of my real intentions her +scorn was uncalled for, and her language was insulting beyond endurance. +For a moment or two the hot blood rushed to my brain and rendered me +incapable of intelligent thought. But as Dorothy walked from me I realized +that something must be done at once to put myself right with her. When my +fit of temper had cooled, and when I considered that the girl did not know +my real intentions, I could not help acknowledging that in view of all +that had just passed between us concerning Sir John Manners, and, in fact, +in view of all that she had seen and could see, her anger was justifiable. + +I called to her: "Dorothy, wait a moment. You have not heard all I have to +say." + +She hastened her pace. A few rapid strides brought me to her side. I was +provoked, not at her words, for they were almost justifiable, but because +she would not stop to hear me. I grasped her rudely by the arm and +said:-- + +"Listen till I have finished." + +"I will not," she answered viciously. "Do not touch me." + +I still held her by the arm and said: "I do not wish to marry you. I spoke +only because your father desired me to do so, and because my refusal to +speak would have offended him beyond any power of mine to make amends. I +could not tell you that I did not wish you for my wife until you had given +me an opportunity. I was forced to throw the burden of refusal upon you." + +"That is but a ruse--a transparent, flimsy ruse," responded the stubborn, +angry girl, endeavoring to draw her arm from my grasp. + +"It is not a ruse," I answered. "If you will listen to me and will help me +by acting as I suggest, we may between us bring your father to our way of +thinking, and I may still be able to retain his friendship." + +"What is your great plan?" asked Dorothy, in a voice such as one might +expect to hear from a piece of ice. + +"I have formed no plan as yet," I replied, "although I have thought of +several. Until we can determine upon one, I suggest that you permit me to +say to your father that I have asked you to be my wife, and that the +subject has come upon you so suddenly that you wish a short time,--a +fortnight or a month--in which to consider your answer." + +"That is but a ruse, I say, to gain time," she answered contemptuously. "I +do not wish one moment in which to consider. You already have my answer. I +should think you had had enough. Do you desire more of the same sort? A +little of such treatment should go a long way with a man possessed of one +spark of honor or self-respect." + +Her language would have angered a sheep. + +"If you will not listen to me," I answered, thoroughly aroused and +careless of consequences, "go to your father. Tell him I asked you to be +my wife, and that you scorned my suit. Then take the consequences. He has +always been gentle and tender to you because there has been no conflict. +Cross his desires, and you will learn a fact of which you have never +dreamed. You have seen the manner in which he treats others who oppose +him. You will learn that with you, too, he can be one of the cruelest and +most violent of men." + +"You slander my father. I will go to him as you advise and will tell him +that I would not marry you if you wore the English crown. I, myself, will +tell him of my meeting with Sir John Manners rather than allow you the +pleasure of doing so. He will be angry, but he will pity me." + +"For God's sake, Dorothy, do not tell your father of your meetings at +Overhaddon. He would kill you. Have you lived in the same house with him +all these years and do you not better know his character than to think +that you may go to him with the tale you have just told me, and that he +will forgive you? Feel as you will toward me, but believe me when I swear +to you by my knighthood that I will betray to no person what you have this +day divulged to me." + +Dorothy made no reply, but turned from me and rapidly walked toward the +Hall. I followed at a short distance, and all my anger was displaced by +fear for her. When we reached the Hall she quickly sought her father and +approached him in her old free manner, full of confidence in her influence +over him. + +"Father, this man"--waving her hand toward me--"has come to Haddon Hall +a-fortune-hunting. He has asked me to be his wife, and says you wish me to +accept him." + +"Yes, Doll, I certainly wish it with all my heart," returned Sir George, +affectionately, taking his daughter's hand. + +"Then you need wish it no longer, for I will not marry him." + +"What?" demanded her father, springing to his feet. + +"I will not. I will not. I will not." + +"You will if I command you to do so, you damned insolent wench," answered +Sir George, hoarsely. Dorothy's eyes opened in wonder. + +"Do not deceive yourself, father, for one moment," she retorted +contemptuously. "He has come here in sheep's clothing and has adroitly +laid his plans to convince you that I should marry him, but--" + +"He has done nothing of the sort," answered Sir George, growing more angry +every moment, but endeavoring to be calm. "Nothing of the sort. Many years +ago I spoke to him on this subject, which is very dear to my heart. The +project has been dear to me ever since you were a child. When I again +broached it to Malcolm a fortnight or more since I feared from his manner +that he was averse to the scheme. I had tried several times to speak to +him about it, but he warded me off, and when I did speak, I feared that he +was not inclined to it." + +"Yes," interrupted the headstrong girl, apparently bent upon destroying +both of us. "He pretended that he did not wish to marry me. He said he +wished me to give a sham consent for the purpose of gaining time till we +might hit upon some plan by which we could change your mind. He said he +had no desire nor intention to marry me. It was but a poor, lame ruse on +his part." + +During Dorothy's recital Sir George turned his face from her to me. When +she had finished speaking, he looked at me for a moment and said:-- + +"Does my daughter speak the truth? Did you say--" + +"Yes," I promptly replied, "I have no intention of marrying your +daughter." Then hoping to place myself before Sir George in a better +light, I continued: "I could not accept the hand of a lady against her +will. I told you as much when we conversed on the subject." + +"What?" exclaimed Sir George, furious with anger. "You too? You whom I +have befriended?" + +"I told you, Sir George, I would not marry Dorothy without her free +consent. No gentleman of honor would accept the enforced compliance of a +woman." + +"But Doll says that you told her you had no intention of marrying her even +should she consent," replied Sir George. + +"I don't know that I spoke those exact words," I replied, "but you may +consider them said." + +"You damned, ungrateful, treacherous hound!" stormed Sir George. "You +listened to me when I offered you my daughter's hand, and you pretended to +consent without at the time having any intention of doing so." + +"That, I suppose, is true, Sir George," said I, making a masterful effort +against anger. "That is true, for I knew that Dorothy would not consent; +and had I been inclined to the marriage, I repeat, I would marry no woman +against her will. No gentleman would do it." + +My remark threw Sir George into a paroxysm of rage. + +"I did it, you cur, you dog, you--you traitorous, ungrateful--I did it." + +"Then, Sir George," said I, interrupting him, for I was no longer able to +restrain my anger, "you were a cowardly poltroon." + +"This to me in my house!" he cried, grasping a chair with which to strike +me. Dorothy came between us. + +"Yes," said I, "and as much more as you wish to hear." I stood my ground, +and Sir George put down the chair. + +"Leave my house at once," he said in a whisper of rage. + +"If you are on my premises in one hour from now I will have you flogged +from my door by the butcher." + +"What have I done?" cried Dorothy. "What have I done?" + +"Your regrets come late, Mistress Vernon," said I. + +"She shall have more to regret," said Sir George, sullenly. "Go to your +room, you brazen, disobedient huzzy, and if you leave it without my +permission, by God, I will have you whipped till you bleed. I will teach +you to say 'I won't' when I say 'you shall.' God curse my soul, if I don't +make you repent this day!" + +As I left the room Dorothy was in tears, and Sir George was walking the +floor in a towering rage. The girl had learned that I was right in what I +had told her concerning her father's violent temper. + +I went at once to my room in Eagle Tower and collected my few belongings +in a bundle. Pitifully small it was, I tell you. + +Where I should go I knew not, and where I should remain I knew even less, +for my purse held only a few shillings--the remnant of the money Queen +Mary had sent to me by the hand of Sir Thomas Douglas. England was as +unsafe for me as Scotland; but how I might travel to France without money, +and how I might without a pass evade Elizabeth's officers who guarded +every English port, even were I supplied with gold, were problems for +which I had no solution. + +There were but two persons in Haddon Hall to whom I cared to say farewell. +They were Lady Madge and Will Dawson. The latter was a Scot, and was +attached to the cause of Queen Mary. He and I had become friends, and on +several occasions we had talked confidentially over Mary's sad plight. + +When my bundle was packed, I sought Madge and found her in the gallery +near the foot of the great staircase. She knew my step and rose to greet +me with a bright smile. + +"I have come to say good-by to you, Cousin Madge," said I. The smile +vanished from her face. + +"You are not going to leave Haddon Hall?" she asked. + +"Yes, and forever," I responded. "Sir George has ordered me to go." + +"No, no," she exclaimed. "I cannot believe it. I supposed that you and my +uncle were friends. What has happened? Tell me if you can--if you wish. +Let me touch your hand," and as she held out her hands, I gladly grasped +them. + +I have never seen anything more beautiful than Madge Stanley's hands. They +were not small, but their shape, from the fair, round forearm and wrist to +the ends of the fingers was worthy of a sculptor's dream. Beyond their +physical beauty there was an expression in them which would have belonged +to her eyes had she possessed the sense of sight. The flood of her vital +energy had for so many years been directed toward her hands as a +substitute for her lost eyesight that their sensitiveness showed itself +not only in an infinite variety of delicate gestures and movements, +changing with her changing moods, but they had an expression of their own, +such as we look for in the eyes. I had gazed upon her hands so often, and +had studied so carefully their varying expression, discernible both to my +sight and to my touch, that I could read her mind through them as we read +the emotions of others through the countenance. The "feel" of her hands, +if I may use the word, I can in no way describe. Its effect on me was +magical. The happiest moments I have ever known were those when I held the +fair blind girl by the hand and strolled upon the great terrace or +followed the babbling winding course of dear old Wye, and drank in the +elixir of all that is good and pure from the cup of her sweet, unconscious +influence. + +Madge, too, had found happiness in our strolling. She had also found +health and strength, and, marvellous to say, there had come to her a +slight improvement in vision. She had always been able to distinguish +sunlight from darkness, but with renewed strength had come the power dimly +to discern dark objects in a strong light, and even that small change for +the better had brought unspeakable gladness to her heart. She said she +owed it all to me. A faint pink had spread itself in her cheeks and a +plumpness had been imparted to her form which gave to her ethereal beauty +a touch of the material. Nor was this to be regretted, for no man can +adequately make love to a woman who has too much of the angel in her. You +must not think, however, that I had been making love to Madge. On the +contrary, I again say, the thought had never entered my mind. Neither at +that time had I even suspected that she would listen to me upon the great +theme. I had in my self-analysis assigned many reasons other than love for +my tenderness toward her; but when I was about to depart, and she +impulsively gave me her hands, I, believing that I was grasping them for +the last time, felt the conviction come upon me that she was dearer to me +than all else in life. + +"Do you want to tell me why my uncle has driven you from Haddon?" she +asked. + +"He wished me to ask Dorothy to be my wife," I returned. + +"And you?" she queried. + +"I did so." + +Instantly the girl withdrew her hands from mine and stepped back from me. +Then I had another revelation. I knew what she meant and felt. Her hands +told me all, even had there been no expression in her movement and in her +face. + +"Dorothy refused," I continued, "and her father desired to force her into +compliance. I would not be a party to the transaction, and Sir George +ordered me to leave his house." + +After a moment of painful silence Madge said:--"I do not wonder that you +should wish to marry Dorothy. She--she must be very beautiful." + +"I do not wish to marry Dorothy," said I. I heard a slight noise back of +me, but gave it no heed. "And I should not have married her had she +consented. I knew that Dorothy would refuse me, therefore I promised Sir +George that I would ask her to be my wife. Sir George had always been my +friend, and should I refuse to comply with his wishes, I well knew he +would be my enemy. He is bitterly angry against me now; but when he +becomes calm, he will see wherein he has wronged me. I asked Dorothy to +help me, but she would not listen to my plan." + +"--and now she begs your forgiveness," cried Dorothy, as she ran weeping +to me, and took my hand most humbly. + +"Dorothy! Dorothy!" I exclaimed. + +"What frightful evil have I brought upon you?" said she. "Where can you +go? What will you do?" + +"I know not," I answered. "I shall probably go to the Tower of London when +Queen Elizabeth's officers learn of my quarrel with Sir George. But I will +try to escape to France." + +"Have you money?" asked Madge, tightly holding one of my hands. + +"A small sum," I answered. + +"How much have you? Tell me. Tell me how much have you," insisted Madge, +clinging to my hand and speaking with a force that would brook no refusal. + +"A very little sum, I am sorry to say; only a few shillings," I +responded. + +She quickly withdrew her hand from mine and began to remove the baubles +from her ears and the brooch from her throat. Then she nervously stripped +the rings from her fingers and held out the little handful of jewels +toward me, groping for my hands. + +"Take these, Malcolm. Take these, and wait here till I return." She turned +toward the staircase, but in her confusion she missed it, and before I +could reach her, she struck against the great newel post. + +"God pity me," she said, as I took her hand. "I wish I were dead. Please +lead me to the staircase, Cousin Malcolm. Thank you." + +She was weeping gently when she started up the steps, and I knew that she +was going to fetch me her little treasure of gold. + +Madge held up the skirt of her gown with one hand while she grasped the +banister with the other. She was halfway up when Dorothy, whose generous +impulses needed only to be prompted, ran nimbly and was about to pass her +on the staircase when Madge grasped her gown. + +"Please don't, Dorothy. Please do not. I beg you, do not forestall me. Let +me do this. Let me. You have all else to make you happy. Don't take this +from me only because you can see and can walk faster than I." + +Dorothy did not stop, but hurried past her. Madge sank upon the steps and +covered her face with her hands. Then she came gropingly back to me just +as Dorothy returned. + +"Take these, Cousin Malcolm," cried Dorothy. "Here are a few stones of +great value. They belonged to my mother." + +Madge was sitting dejectedly upon the lowest step of the staircase. +Dorothy held her jewel-box toward me, and in the midst of the diamonds and +gold I saw the heart John Manners had given her. I did not take the box. + +"Do you offer me this, too--even this?" I said, lifting the heart from the +box by its chain.--"Yes, yes," cried Dorothy, "even that, gladly, gladly." +I replaced it in the box. + +Then spoke Madge, while she tried to check the falling tears:--"Dorothy, +you are a cruel, selfish girl." + +"Oh, Madge," cried Dorothy, stepping to her side and taking her hand. "How +can you speak so unkindly to me?" + +"You have everything good," interrupted Madge. "You have beauty, wealth, +eyesight, and yet you would not leave to me the joy of helping him. I +could not see, and you hurried past me that you might be first to give him +the help of which I was the first to think." + +Dorothy was surprised at the outburst from Madge, and kneeled by her side. + +"We may both help Cousin Malcolm," she said. + +"No, no," responded Madge, angrily. "Your jewels are more than enough. He +would have no need of my poor offering." + +I took Madge's hand and said, "I shall accept help from no one but you, +Madge; from no one but you." + +"I will go to our rooms for your box," said Dorothy, who had begun to see +the trouble. "I will fetch it for you." + +"No, I will fetch it," answered Madge. She arose, and I led her to the +foot of the staircase. When she returned she held in her hands a purse and +a little box of jewels. These she offered to me, but I took only the +purse, saying: "I accept the purse. It contains more money than I shall +need. From its weight I should say there are twenty gold pounds sterling." + +"Twenty-five," answered Madge. "I have saved them, believing that the +time might come when they would be of great use to me. I did not know the +joy I was saving for myself." + +Tears came to my eyes, and Dorothy wept silently. + +"Will you not take the jewels also?" asked Madge. + +"No," I responded; "the purse will more than pay my expenses to France, +where I have wealthy relatives. There I may have my mother's estate for +the asking, and I can repay you the gold. I can never repay your +kindness." + +"I hope you will never offer to repay the gold," said Madge. + +"I will not," I gladly answered. + +"As to the kindness," she said, "you have paid me in advance for that +many, many times over." + +I then said farewell, promising to send letters telling of my fortune. As +I was leaving I bent forward and kissed Madge upon the forehead, while she +gently pressed my hand, but did not speak a word. + +"Cousin Malcolm," said Dorothy, who held my other hand, "you are a strong, +gentle, noble man, and I want you to say that you forgive me." + +"I do forgive you, Dorothy, from my heart. I could not blame you if I +wished to do so, for you did not know what you were doing." + +"Not to know is sometimes the greatest of sins," answered Dorothy. I bent +forward to kiss her cheek in token of my full forgiveness, but she gave me +her lips and said: "I shall never again be guilty of not knowing that you +are good and true and noble, Cousin Malcolm, and I shall never again doubt +your wisdom or your good faith when you speak to me." She did doubt me +afterward, but I fear her doubt was with good cause. I shall tell you of +it in the proper place. + +Then I forced myself to leave my fair friends and went to the gateway +under Eagle Tower, where I found Will Dawson waiting for me with my horse. + +"Sir George ordered me to bring your horse," said Will. "He seemed much +excited. Has anything disagreeable happened? Are you leaving us? I see you +wear your steel cap and breastplate and are carrying your bundle." + +"Yes, Will, your master has quarrelled with me and I must leave his +house." + +"But where do you go, Sir Malcolm? You remember that of which we talked? +In England no place but Haddon Hall will be safe for you, and the ports +are so closely guarded that you will certainly be arrested if you try to +sail for France." + +"I know all that only too well, Will. But I must go, and I will try to +escape to France. If you wish to communicate with me, I may be found by +addressing a letter in care of the Duc de Guise." + +"If I can ever be of help to you," said Will, "personally, or in that +other matter, Queen Mary, you understand,--you have only to call on me." + +"I thank you, Will," I returned, "I shall probably accept your kind offer +sooner than you anticipate. Do you know Jennie Faxton, the ferrier's +daughter?" + +"I do," he responded. + +"I believe she may be trusted," I said. + +"Indeed, I believe she is true as any steel in her father's shop," Will +responded. + +"Good-by, Will, you may hear from me soon." + +I mounted and rode back of the terrace, taking my way along the Wye toward +Rowsley. When I turned and looked back, I saw Dorothy standing upon the +terrace. By her side, dressed in white, stood Madge. Her hand was covering +her eyes. A step or two below them on the terrace staircase stood Will +Dawson. They were three stanch friends, although one of them had brought +my troubles upon me. After all, I was leaving Haddon Hall well garrisoned. +My heart also was well garrisoned with a faithful troop of pain. But I +shall write no more of that time. It was too full of bitterness. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MINE ENEMY'S ROOF-TREE + + +I rode down the Wye to Rowsley, and by the will of my horse rather than by +any intention of my own took the road up through Lathkil Dale. I had +determined if possible to reach the city of Chester, and thence to ride +down into Wales, hoping to find on the rough Welsh coast a fishing boat or +a smuggler's craft that would carry me to France. In truth, I cared little +whether I went to the Tower or to France, since in either case I felt that +I had looked my last upon Haddon Hall, and had spoken farewell to the only +person in all the world for whom I really cared. My ride from Haddon gave +me time for deliberate thought, and I fully agreed with myself upon two +propositions. First, I became thoroughly conscious of my real feeling +toward Madge, and secondly, I was convinced that her kindness and her +peculiar attitude toward me when I parted from her were but the promptings +of a tender heart stirred by pity for my unfortunate situation, rather +than what I thought when I said farewell to her. The sweet Wye and the +beautiful Lathkil whispered to me as I rode beside their banks, but in +their murmurings I heard only the music of her voice. The sun shone +brightly, but its blessed light only served to remind me of the beautiful +girl whom I had left in darkness. The light were worthless to me if I +could not share it with her. What a mooning lout was I! + +All my life I had been a philosopher, and as I rode from Haddon, beneath +all my gloominess there ran a current of amusement which brought to my +lips an ill-formed, half-born laugh when I thought of the plight and +condition in which I, by candid self-communion, found myself. Five years +before that time I had left France, and had cast behind me all the fair +possibilities for noble achievement which were offered to me in that land, +that I might follow the fortunes of a woman whom I thought I loved. Before +my exile from her side I had begun to fear that my idol was but a thing of +stone; and now that I had learned to know myself, and to see her as she +really was, I realized that I had been worshipping naught but clay for lo, +these many years. There was only this consolation in the thought for me: +every man at some time in his life is a fool--made such by a woman. It is +given to but few men to have for their fool-maker the rightful queen of +three kingdoms. All that was left to me of my life of devotion was a +shame-faced pride in the quality of my fool-maker. "Then," thought I, "I +have at last turned to be my own fool-maker." But I suppose it had been +written in the book of fate that I should ride from Haddon a lovelorn +youth of thirty-five, and I certainly was fulfilling my destiny to the +letter. + +I continued to ride up the Lathkil until I came to a fork in the road. One +branch led to the northwest, the other toward the southwest. I was at a +loss which direction to take, and I left the choice to my horse, in whose +wisdom and judgement I had more confidence than in my own. My horse, +refusing the responsibility, stopped. So there we stood like an equestrian +statue arguing with itself until I saw a horseman riding toward me from +the direction of Overhaddon. When he approached I recognized Sir John +Manners. He looked as woebegone as I felt, and I could not help laughing +at the pair of us, for I knew that his trouble was akin to mine. The pain +of love is ludicrous to all save those who feel it. Even to them it is +laughable in others. A love-full heart has no room for that sort of +charity which pities for kinship's sake. + +"What is the trouble with you, Sir John, that you look so downcast?" said +I, offering my hand. + +"Ah," he answered, forcing a poor look of cheerfulness into his face, "Sir +Malcolm, I am glad to see you. Do I look downcast?" + +"As forlorn as a lover who has missed seeing his sweetheart," I responded, +guessing the cause of Sir John's despondency. + +"I have no sweetheart, therefore missing her could not have made me +downcast," he replied. + +"So you really did miss her?" I queried. "She was detained at Haddon Hall, +Sir John, to bid me farewell." + +"I do not understand--" began Sir John, growing cold in his bearing. + +"I understand quite well," I answered. "Dorothy told me all to-day. You +need keep nothing from me. The golden heart brought her into trouble, and +made mischief for me of which I cannot see the end. I will tell you the +story while we ride. I am seeking my way to Chester, that I may, if +possible, sail for France. This fork in the road has brought me to a +standstill, and my horse refuses to decide which route we shall take. +Perhaps you will direct us." + +"Gladly. The road to the southwest--the one I shall take--is the most +direct route to Chester. But tell me, how comes it that you are leaving +Haddon Hall? I thought you had gone there to marry-" He stopped speaking, +and a smile stole into his eyes. + +"Let us ride forward together, and I will tell you about it," said I. + +While we travelled I told Sir John the circumstances of my departure from +Haddon Hall, concealing nothing save that which touched Madge Stanley. I +then spoke of my dangerous position in England, and told him of my great +desire to reach my mother's people in France. + +"You will find difficulty and danger in escaping to France at this time," +said Sir John, "the guard at the ports is very strong and strict, and your +greatest risk will be at the moment when you try to embark without a +passport." + +"That is true," I responded; "but I know of nothing else that I can do." + +"Come with me to Rutland Castle," said Sir John. "You may there find +refuge until such time as you can go to France. I will gladly furnish you +money which you may repay at your pleasure, and I may soon be able to +procure a passport for you." + +I thanked him, but said I did not see my way clear to accept his kind +offer. + +"You are unknown in the neighborhood of Rutland," he continued, "and you +may easily remain incognito." Although his offer was greatly to my liking, +I suggested several objections, chief among which was the distaste Lord +Rutland might feel toward one of my name. I would not, of course, consent +that my identity should be concealed from him. But to be brief--an almost +impossible achievement for me, it seems--Sir John assured me of his +father's welcome, and it was arranged between us that I should take my +baptismal name, François de Lorraine, and passing for a French gentleman +on a visit to England, should go to Rutland with my friend. So it happened +through the strange workings of fate that I found help and refuge under my +enemy's roof-tree. + +Kind old Lord Rutland welcomed me, as his son had foretold, and I was +convinced ere I had passed an hour under his roof that the feud between +him and Sir George was of the latter's brewing. + +The happenings in Haddon Hall while I lived at Rutland I knew, of course, +only by the mouth of others; but for convenience in telling I shall speak +of them as if I had seen and heard all that took place. I may now say once +for all that I shall take that liberty throughout this entire history. + +On the morning of the day after my departure from Haddon, Jennie Faxton +went to visit Dorothy and gave her a piece of information, small in +itself, but large in its effect upon that ardent young lady. Will +Fletcher, the arrow-maker at Overhaddon, had observed Dorothy's movements +in connection with Manners; and although Fletcher did not know who Sir +John was, that fact added to his curiosity and righteous indignation. + +"It do be right that some one should tell the King of the Peak as how his +daughter is carrying on with a young man who does come here every day or +two to meet her, and I do intend to tell Sir George if she put not a stop +to it," said Fletcher to some of his gossips in Yulegrave churchyard one +Sunday afternoon. + +Dorothy notified John, Jennie being the messenger, of Will's observations, +visual and verbal, and designated another place for meeting,--the gate +east of Bowling Green Hill. This gate was part of a wall on the east side +of the Haddon estates adjoining the lands of the house of Devonshire which +lay to the eastward. It was a secluded spot in the heart of the forest +half a mile distant from Haddon Hall. + +Sir George, for a fortnight or more after my disappearance, enforced his +decree of imprisonment against Dorothy, and she, being unable to leave the +Hall, could not go to Bowling Green Gate to meet Sir John. Before I had +learned of the new trysting-place John had ridden thither several evenings +to meet Dorothy, but had found only Jennie bearing her mistress's excuses. +I supposed his journeyings had been to Overhaddon; but I did not press his +confidence, nor did he give it. + +Sir George's treatment of Dorothy had taught her that the citadel of her +father's wrath could be stormed only by gentleness, and an opportunity was +soon presented in which she used that effective engine of feminine warfare +to her great advantage. + +As I have told you, Sir George was very rich. No man, either noble or +gentle, in Derbyshire or in any of the adjoining counties, possessed so +great an estate or so beautiful a hall as did he. In France we would have +called Haddon Hall a grand château. + +Sir George's deceased wife had been a sister to the Earl of Derby, who +lived at the time of which I am now writing. The earl had a son, James, +who was heir to the title and to the estates of his father. The son was a +dissipated, rustic clown--almost a simpleton. He had the vulgarity of a +stable boy and the vices of a courtier. His associates were chosen from +the ranks of gamesters, ruffians, and tavern maids. Still, he was a scion +of one of the greatest families of England's nobility. + +After Sir George's trouble with Dorothy, growing out of his desire that I +should wed her, the King of the Peak had begun to feel that in his +beautiful daughter he had upon his hands a commodity that might at any +time cause him trouble. He therefore determined to marry her to some +eligible gentleman as quickly as possible, and to place the heavy +responsibility of managing her in the hands of a husband. The stubborn +violence of Sir George's nature, the rough side of which had never before +been shown to Dorothy, in her became adroit wilfulness of a quality that +no masculine mind may compass. But her life had been so entirely +undisturbed by opposing influences that her father, firm in the belief +that no one in his household would dare to thwart his will, had remained +in dangerous ignorance of the latent trouble which pervaded his daughter +from the soles of her shapely feet to the top of her glory-crowned head. + +Sir George, in casting about for a son-in-law, had hit upon the heir to +the house of Derby as a suitable match for his child, and had entered into +an alliance offensive and defensive with the earl against the common +enemy, Dorothy. The two fathers had partly agreed that the heir to Derby +should wed the heiress of Haddon. The heir, although he had never seen his +cousin except when she was a plain, unattractive girl, was entirely +willing for the match, but the heiress--well, she had not been consulted, +and everybody connected with the affair instinctively knew there would be +trouble in that quarter. Sir George, however, had determined that Dorothy +should do her part in case the contract of marriage should be agreed upon +between the heads of the houses. He had fully resolved to assert the +majesty of the law vested in him as a father and to compel Dorothy to do +his bidding, if there were efficacy in force and chastisement. At the time +when Sir George spoke to Dorothy about the Derby marriage, she had been a +prisoner for a fortnight or more, and had learned that her only hope +against her father lay in cunning. So she wept, and begged for time in +which to consider the answer she would give to Lord Derby's request. She +begged for two months, or even one month, in which to bring herself to +accede to her father's commands. + +"You have always been so kind and good to me, father, that I shall try to +obey if you and the earl eventually agree upon terms," she said tearfully, +having no intention whatever of trying to do anything but disobey. + +"Try!" stormed Sir George. "Try to obey me! By God, girl, I say you shall +obey!" + +"Oh, father, I am so young. I have not seen my cousin for years. I do not +want to leave you, and I have never thought twice of any man. Do not drive +me from you." + +Sir George, eager to crush in the outset any disposition to oppose his +will, grew violent and threatened his daughter with dire punishment if she +were not docile and obedient. + +Then said rare Dorothy:-- + +"It would indeed be a great match." Greater than ever will happen, she +thought. "I should be a countess." She strutted across the room with head +up and with dilating nostrils. The truth was, she desired to gain her +liberty once more that she might go to John, and was ready to promise +anything to achieve that end. "What sort of a countess would I make, +father?" + +"A glorious countess, Doll, a glorious countess," said her father, +laughing. "You are a good girl to obey me so readily." + +"Oh, but I have not obeyed you yet," returned Dorothy, fearing that her +father might be suspicious of a too ready acquiescence. + +"But you will obey me," answered Sir George, half in command and half in +entreaty. + +"There are not many girls who would refuse the coronet of a countess." She +then seated herself upon her father's knee and kissed him, while Sir +George laughed softly over his easy victory. + +Blessed is the man who does not know when he is beaten. + +Seeing her father's kindly humor, Dorothy said:-- + +"Father, do you still wish me to remain a prisoner in my rooms?" + +"If you promise to be a good, obedient daughter," returned Sir George, +"you shall have your liberty." + +"I have always been that, father, and I am too old to learn otherwise," +answered this girl, whose father had taught her deception by his violence. +You may drive men, but you cannot drive any woman who is worth possessing. +You may for a time think you drive her, but in the end she will have her +way. + +Dorothy's first act of obedience after regaining liberty was to send a +letter to Manners by the hand of Jennie Faxton. + +John received the letter in the evening, and all next day he passed the +time whistling, singing, and looking now and again at his horologue. He +walked about the castle like a happy wolf in a pen. He did not tell me +there was a project on foot, with Dorothy as the objective, but I knew it, +and waited with some impatience for the outcome. + +Long before the appointed time, which was sunset, John galloped forth for +Bowling Green Gate with joy and anticipation in his heart and pain in his +conscience. As he rode, he resolved again and again that the interview +toward which he was hastening should be the last he would have with +Dorothy. But when he pictured the girl to himself, and thought upon her +marvellous beauty and infinite winsomeness, his conscience was drowned in +his longing, and he resolved that he would postpone resolving until the +morrow. + +John hitched his horse near the gate and stood looking between the massive +iron bars toward Haddon Hall, whose turrets could be seen through the +leafless boughs of the trees. The sun was sinking perilously low, thought +John, and with each moment his heart also sank, while his good resolutions +showed the flimsy fibre of their fabric and were rent asunder by the fear +that she might not come. As the moments dragged on and she did not come, a +hundred alarms tormented him. First among these was a dread that she might +have made resolves such as had sprung up so plenteously in him, and that +she might have been strong enough to act upon them and to remain at home. +But he was mistaken in the girl. Such resolutions as he had been making +and breaking had never come to her at all. The difference between the man +and the woman was this: he resolved in his mind not to see her and failed +in keeping to his resolution; while she resolved in her heart to see +him--resolved that nothing in heaven or earth or the other place could +keep her from seeing him, and succeeded in carrying out her resolution. +The intuitive resolve, the one that does not know it is a resolution, is +the sort before which obstacles fall like corn before the sickle. + +After John had waited a weary time, the form of the girl appeared above +the crest of the hill. She was holding up the skirt of her gown, and +glided over the earth so rapidly that she appeared to be running. Beat! +beat! oh, heart of John, if there is aught in womanhood to make you throb; +if there is aught in infinite grace and winsomeness; if there is aught in +perfect harmony of color and form and movement; if there is aught of +beauty, in God's power to create that can set you pulsing, beat! for the +fairest creature of His hand is hastening to greet you. The wind had +dishevelled her hair and it was blowing in fluffy curls of golden red +about her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed with joy and exercise, +her red lips were parted, and her eyes--but I am wasting words. As for +John's heart it almost smothered him with its beating. He had never before +supposed that he could experience such violent throbbing within his breast +and live. But at last she was at the gate, in all her exquisite beauty and +winsomeness, and something must be done to make the heart conform to the +usages of good society. She, too, was in trouble with her breathing, but +John thought that her trouble was owing to exertion. However that may have +been, nothing in heaven or earth was ever so beautiful, so radiant, so +graceful, or so fair as this girl who had come to give herself to John. It +seems that I cannot take myself away from the attractive theme. + +"Ah, Sir John, you did come," said the girl, joyously. + +"Yes," John succeeded in replying, after an effort, "and you--I thank you, +gracious lady, for coming. I do not deserve--" the heart again asserted +itself, and Dorothy stood by the gate with downcast eyes, waiting to learn +what it was that John did not deserve. She thought he deserved everything +good. + +"I fear I have caused you fatigue," said John, again thinking, and with +good reason, that he was a fool. + +The English language, which he had always supposed to be his mother +tongue, had deserted him as if it were his step-mother. After all, the +difficulty, as John subsequently said, was that Dorothy's beauty had +deprived him of the power to think. He could only see. He was entirely +disorganized by a girl whom he could have carried away in his arms. + +"I feel no fatigue," replied Dorothy. + +"I feared that in climbing the hill you had lost your breath," answered +disorganized John. + +"So I did," she returned. Then she gave a great sigh and said, "Now I am +all right again." + +All right? So is the morning sun, so is the arching rainbow, and so are +the flitting lights of the north in midwinter. All are "all right" because +God made them, as He made Dorothy, perfect, each after its kind. + +A long, uneasy pause ensued. Dorothy felt the embarrassing silence less +than John, and could have helped him greatly had she wished to do so. But +she had made the advances at their former meetings, and as she had told +me, she "had done a great deal more than her part in going to meet him." +Therefore she determined that he should do his own wooing thenceforward. +She had graciously given him all the opportunity he had any right to ask. + +While journeying to Bowling Green Gate, John had formulated many true and +beautiful sentiments of a personal nature which he intended expressing to +Dorothy; but when the opportunity came for him to speak, the weather, his +horse, Dorothy's mare Dolcy, the queens of England and Scotland were the +only subjects on which he could induce his tongue to perform, even +moderately well. + +Dorothy listened attentively while John on the opposite side of the gate +discoursed limpingly on the above-named themes; and although in former +interviews she had found those topics quite interesting, upon that +occasion she had come to Bowling Green Gate to listen to something else +and was piqued not to hear it. After ten or fifteen minutes she said +demurely:-- + +"I may not remain here longer. I shall be missed at the Hall. I regained +my liberty but yesterday, and father will be suspicious of me during the +next few days. I must be watchful and must have a care of my behavior." + +John summoned his wits and might have spoken his mind freely had he not +feared to say too much. Despite Dorothy's witchery, honor, conscience, and +prudence still bore weight with him, and they all dictated that he should +cling to the shreds of his resolution and not allow matters to go too far +between him and this fascinating girl. He was much in love with her; but +Dorothy had reached at a bound a height to which he was still climbing. +Soon John, also, was to reach the pinnacle whence honor, conscience, and +prudence were to be banished. + +"I fear I must now leave you," said Dorothy, as darkness began to gather. + +"I hope I may soon see you again," said John. + +"Sometime I will see you if--if I can," she answered with downcast eyes. +"It is seldom I can leave the Hall alone, but I shall try to come here at +sunset some future day." John's silence upon a certain theme had given +offence. + +"I cannot tell you how greatly I thank you," cried John. + +"I will say adieu," said Dorothy, as she offered him her hand through the +bars of the gate. John raised the hand gallantly to his lips, and when she +had withdrawn it there seemed no reason for her to remain. But she stood +for a moment hesitatingly. Then she stooped to reach into her pocket while +she daintily lifted the skirt of her gown with the other hand and from the +pocket drew forth a great iron key. + +"I brought this key, thinking that you might wish to unlock the gate--and +come to--to this side. I had great difficulty in taking it from the +forester's closet, where it has been hanging for a hundred years or more." + +She showed John the key, returned it to her pocket, made a courtesy, and +moved slowly away, walking backward. + +"Mistress Vernon," cried John, "I beg you to let me have the key." + +"It is too late, now," said the girl, with downcast eyes. "Darkness is +rapidly falling, and I must return to the Hall." + +John began to climb the gate, but she stopped him. He had thrown away his +opportunity. + +"Please do not follow me, Sir John," said she, still moving backward. "I +must not remain longer." + +"Only for one moment," pleaded John. + +"No," the girl responded, "I--I may, perhaps, bring the key when I come +again. I am glad, Sir John, that you came to meet me this evening." She +courtesied, and then hurried away toward Haddon Hall. Twice she looked +backward and waved her hand, and John stood watching her through the bars +till her form was lost to view beneath the crest of Bowling Green Hill. + +"'I brought this key, thinking that you might wish to unlock the gate and +come to this side,'" muttered John, quoting the girl's words. "Compared +with you, John Manners, there is no other fool in this world." Then +meditatively: "I wonder if she feels toward me as I feel toward her? +Surely she does. What other reason could bring her here to meet me unless +she is a brazen, wanton creature who is for every man." Then came a +jealous thought that hurt him like the piercing of a knife. It lasted but +a moment, however, and he continued muttering to himself: "If she loves me +and will be my wife, I will--I will ... In God's name what will I do? If I +were to marry her, old Vernon would kill her, and I--I should kill my +father." + +Then John mounted his horse and rode homeward the unhappiest happy man in +England. He had made perilous strides toward that pinnacle sans honor, +sans caution, sans conscience, sans everything but love. + +That evening while we were walking on the battlements, smoking, John told +me of his interview with Dorothy and extolled her beauty, grace, and +winsomeness which, in truth, as you know, were matchless. But when he +spoke of "her sweet, shy modesty," I came near to laughing in his face. + +"Did she not write a letter asking you to meet her?" I asked. + +"Why--y-e-s," returned John. + +"And," I continued, "has she not from the first sought you?" + +"It almost seems to be so," answered John, "but notwithstanding the fact +that one might say--might call--that one might feel that her conduct +is--that it might be--you know, well--it might be called by some persons +not knowing all the facts in the case, immodest--I hate to use the word +with reference to her--yet it does not appear to me to have been at all +immodest in Mistress Vernon, and, Sir Malcolm, I should be deeply offended +were any of my friends to intimate--" + +"Now, John," I returned, laughing at him, "you could not, if you wished, +make me quarrel with you; and if you desire it, I will freely avow my firm +belief in the fact that my cousin Dorothy is the flower of modesty. Does +that better suit you?" + +I could easily see that my bantering words did not suit him at all; but I +laughed at him, and he could not find it in his heart to show his +ill-feeling. + +"I will not quarrel with you," he returned; "but in plain words, I do not +like the tone in which you speak of her. It hurts me, and I do not believe +you would wilfully give me pain." + +"Indeed, I would not," I answered seriously. + +"Mistress Vernon's conduct toward me," John continued, "has been gracious. +There has been no immodesty nor boldness in it." + +I laughed again and said: "I make my humble apologies to her Majesty, +Queen Dorothy. But in all earnestness, Sir John, you are right: Dorothy is +modest and pure. As for her conduct toward you, there is a royal quality +about beauty such as my cousin possesses which gives an air of +graciousness to acts that in a plainer girl would seem bold. Beauty, like +royalty, has its own prerogatives." + +For a fortnight after the adventures just related, John, in pursuance of +his oft-repeated resolution not to see Dorothy, rode every evening to +Bowling Green Gate; but during that time he failed to see her, and the +resolutions, with each failure, became weaker and fewer. + +One evening, after many disappointments, John came to my room bearing in +his hands a letter which he said Jennie Faxton had delivered to him at +Bowling Green Gate. + +"Mistress Vernon," said John, "and Lady Madge Stanley will ride to +Derby-town to-morrow. They will go in the Haddon Hall coach, and Dawson +will drive. Mistress Vernon writes to me thus:-- + + "'To SIR JOHN MANNERS:-- + + "'My good wishes and my kind greeting. Lady Madge Stanley, my good + aunt, Lady Crawford, and myself do intend journeying to Derby-town + to-morrow. My aunt, Lady Crawford, is slightly ill, and although I + should much regret to see her sickness grow greater, yet if ill she + must be, I do hope that her worst day will be upon the morrow, in + which case she could not accompany Lady Madge and me. I shall nurse my + good aunt carefully this day, and shall importune her to take + plentifully of physic that she may quickly recover her health--after + to-morrow. Should a gentleman ask of Will Dawson, who will be in the + tap-room of the Royal Arms at eleven o'clock of the morning, Dawson + will be glad to inform the gentleman concerning Lady Crawford's + health. Let us hope that the physic will cure Lady Crawford--by the + day after to-morrow at furthest. The said Will Dawson may be trusted. + With great respect, + + DOROTHY VERNON.'" + +"I suppose the gentleman will be solicitous concerning Lady Crawford's +health to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock," said I. + +"The gentleman is now solicitous concerning Lady Crawford's health," +answered John, laughingly. "Was there ever a lady more fair and gracious +than Mistress Vernon?" + +I smiled with a superior air at John's weakness, being, as you know, +entirely free from his complaint myself, and John continued:-- + +"Perhaps you would call Mistress Dorothy bold for sending me this letter?" + +"It is redolent with shyness," I answered. "But would you really wish poor +Lady Crawford to be ill that you might witness Mistress Dorothy's +modesty?" + +"Please don't jest on that subject," said John, seriously. "I would wish +anything, I fear, that would bring me an opportunity to see her, to look +upon her face, and to hear her voice. For her I believe I would sacrifice +every one who is dear to me. One day she shall be mine--mine at whatever +cost--if she will be. If she will be. Ah, there is the rub! If she will +be. I dare not hope for that." + +"I think," said I, "that you really have some little cause to hope." + +"You speak in the same tone again. Malcolm, you do not understand her. She +might love me to the extent that I sometimes hope; but her father and mine +would never consent to our union, and she, I fear, could not be induced to +marry me under those conditions. Do not put the hope into my heart." + +"You only now said she should be yours some day," I answered. + +"So she shall," returned John, "so she shall." + +"But Lady Madge is to be with her to-morrow," said I, my own heart beating +with an ardent wish and a new-born hope, "and you may be unable, after +all, to see Mistress Dorothy." + +"That is true," replied John. "I do not know how she will arrange matters, +but I have faith in her ingenuity." + +Well might he have faith, for Dorothy was possessed of that sort of a will +which usually finds a way. + +"If you wish me to go with you to Derby-town, I will do so. Perhaps I may +be able to entertain Lady Madge while you have a word with Dorothy. What +think you of the plan?" I asked. + +"If you will go with me, Malcolm, I shall thank you with all my heart." + +And so it was agreed between us that we should both go to Derby-town for +the purpose of inquiring about Lady Crawford's health, though for me the +expedition was full of hazard. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DANGEROUS TRIP TO DERBY-TOWN + + +The next morning broke brightly, but soon clouds began to gather and a +storm seemed imminent. We feared that the gloomy prospect of the sky might +keep Dorothy and Madge at home, but long before the appointed hour John +and I were at the Royal Arms watching eagerly for the Haddon coach. At the +inn we occupied a room from which we could look into the courtyard, and at +the window we stood alternating between exaltation and despair. + +When my cogitations turned upon myself--a palpitating youth of +thirty-five, waiting with beating heart for a simple blind girl little +more than half my age; and when I remembered how for years I had laughed +at the tenderness of the fairest women of the French and Scottish +courts--I could not help saying to myself, "Poor fool! you have achieved +an early second childhood." But when I recalled Madge in all her beauty, +purity, and helplessness, my cynicism left me, and I, who had enjoyed all +of life's ambitious possibilities, calmly reached the conclusion that it +is sometimes a blessed privilege to be a fool. While I dwelt on thoughts +of Madge, all the latent good within me came uppermost. There is latent +good in every man, though it may remain latent all his life. Good +resolves, pure thoughts, and noble aspirations--new sensations to me, I +blush to confess--bubbled in my heart, and I made a mental prayer, "If +this is folly, may God banish wisdom." What is there, after all is said, +in wisdom, that men should seek it? Has it ever brought happiness to its +possessor? I am an old man at this writing. I have tasted all the cups of +life, and from the fulness of my experience I tell you that the simple +life is the only one wherein happiness is found. When you permit your +heart and your mind to grow complex and wise, you make nooks and crannies +for wretchedness to lodge in. Innocence is Nature's wisdom; knowledge is +man's folly. + +An hour before noon our patience was rewarded when we saw the Haddon Hall +coach drive into the courtyard with Dawson on the box. I tried to make +myself believe that I did not wish Lady Crawford were ill. But there is +little profit in too close scrutiny of our deep-seated motives, and in +this case I found no comfort in self-examination. I really did wish that +Aunt Dorothy were ill. + +My motive studying, however, was brought to a joyous end when I saw Will +Dawson close the coach door after Madge and Dorothy had alighted. + +How wondrously beautiful they were! Had we lived in the days when Olympus +ruled the world, John surely would have had a god for his rival. Dorothy +seemed luminous, so radiant was she with the fire of life. As for Madge, +had I beheld a corona hovering over her head I should have thought it in +all respects a natural and appropriate phenomenon--so fair and saintlike +did she appear to me. Her warm white furs and her clinging gown of soft +light-colored woollen stuff seemed to be a saint's robe, and her dainty +little hat, fashioned with ermine about the edge of the rim--well, that +was the corona, and I was ready to worship. + +Dorothy, as befitted her, wore a blaze of harmonious colors and looked +like the spirit of life and youth. I wish I could cease rhapsodizing over +those two girls, but I cannot. You may pass over it as you read, if you do +not like it. + +"Ye gods! did ever a creature so perfect as she tread the earth?" asked +John, meaning, of course, Dorothy. + +"No," answered I, meaning, of course, Madge. + +The girls entered the inn, and John and I descended to the tap-room for +the purpose of consulting Will Dawson concerning the state of Aunt +Dorothy's health. + +When we entered the tap-room Will was standing near the fireplace with a +mug of hot punch in his hand. When I touched him, he almost dropped the +mug so great was his surprise at seeing me. + +"Sir Mal--" he began to say, but I stopped him by a gesture. He instantly +recovered his composure and appeared not to recognize me. + +I spoke in broken English, for, as you know, I belong more to France than +to any other country. "I am Sir François de Lorraine," said I. "I wish to +inquire if Lady Crawford is in good health?" + +"Her ladyship is ill, sir, I am sorry to say," responded Will, taking off +his hat. "Mistress Vernon and Lady Madge Stanley are at the inn. If you +wish to inquire more particularly concerning Lady Crawford's health, I +will ask them if they wish to receive you. They are in the parlor." + +Will was the king of trumps! + +"Say to them," said I, "that Sir François de Lorraine--mark the name +carefully, please--and his friend desire to make inquiry concerning Lady +Crawford's health, and would deem it a great honor should the ladies grant +them an interview." + +Will's countenance was as expressionless as the face upon the mug from +which he had been drinking. "I shall inform the ladies of your honor's +request." He thereupon placed the half-emptied mug upon the fire-shelf +and left the room. + +When Will announced his errand to the girls, Dorothy said in surprise:-- + +"Sir François de Lorraine? That is the name of the Grand Duc de Guise, but +surely--Describe him to me, Will." + +"He is about your height, Mistress Dorothy, and is very handsome," +responded Will. + +The latter part of Will's description placed me under obligation to him to +the extent of a gold pound sterling. + +"Ah, it is John!" thought Dorothy, forgetting the fact that John was a +great deal taller than she, but feeling that Will's description of "very +handsome" could apply to only one man in the world. "He has taken +Malcolm's name." Then she said, "Bring him to us, Will. But who is the +friend? Do you know him? Tell me his appearance." + +"I did not notice the other gentleman," replied Will, "and I can tell you +nothing of him." + +"Will, you are a very stupid man. But bring the gentlemen here." Dorothy +had taken Will into her confidence to the extent of telling him that a +gentleman would arrive at the Royal Arms who would inquire for Lady +Crawford's health, and that she, Dorothy, would fully inform the gentleman +upon that interesting topic. Will may have had suspicions of his own, but +if so, he kept them to himself, and at least did not know that the +gentleman whom his mistress expected to see was Sir John Manners. Neither +did he suspect that fact. Dawson had never seen Manners, and did not know +he was in the neighborhood of Derby. The fact was concealed from Dawson by +Dorothy not so much because she doubted him, but for the reason that she +wished him to be able truthfully to plead innocence in case trouble should +grow out of the Derby-town escapade. + +"I wonder why John did not come alone?" thought Dorothy. "This friend of +his will be a great hindrance." + +Dorothy ran to the mirror and hurriedly gave a few touches to her hair, +pressing it lightly with her soft flexible fingers here, and tucking in a +stray curl there, which for beauty's sake should have been allowed to hang +loose. She was standing at the pier-glass trying to see the back of her +head when Will knocked to announce our arrival. + +"Come," said Dorothy. + +Will opened the door and held it for us to pass in. Madge was seated near +the fire. When we entered Dorothy was standing with great dignity in the +centre of the floor, not of course intending to make an exhibition of +delight over John in the presence of a stranger. But when she saw that I +was the stranger, she ran to me with outstretched hands. + +"Good morning, Mistress Vernon," said I, in mock ceremoniousness. + +"Oh, Malcolm! Malcolm!" cried Madge, quickly rising from her chair. "You +are cruel, Dorothy, to surprise me in this fashion." + +"I, too, am surprised. I did not know that Malcolm was coming," replied +Dorothy, turning to give welcome to John. Then I stepped to Madge's side +and took her hands, but all I could say was "Madge! Madge!" and all she +said was "Malcolm! Malcolm!" yet we seemed to understand each other. + +John and Dorothy were likewise stricken with a paucity of words, but they +also doubtless understood each other. After a moment or two there fell +upon me a shower of questions from Dorothy. + +"Did you not go to France? How happens it that you are in Derby-town? +Where did you meet Sir John? What a delightful surprise you have given us! +Nothing was wanting to make us happy but your presence." + +"I am so happy that it frightens me," said Dorothy in ecstasy. "Trouble +will come, I am sure. One extreme always follows another. The pendulum +always swings as far back as it goes forward. But we are happy now, aren't +we, Madge? I intend to remain so while I can. The pendulum may swing as +far backward as it chooses hereafter. Sufficient to the day is the evil +thereof. Sometimes the joy is almost sufficient, isn't it, Madge?" + +"The evil is more than sufficient some days," answered Madge. + +"Come, Madge, don't be foreboding." + +"Dorothy, I have not met the other gentleman," said Madge. + +"Ah, pardon me. In my surprise I forgot to present you. Lady Madge +Stanley, let me present Sir John Manners." + +"Sir John Manners!" cried Madge, taking a step backward. Her surprise was +so great that she forgot to acknowledge the introduction. "Dorothy, what +means this?" she continued. + +"It means," replied Dorothy, nervously, "that Sir John is my very dear +friend. I will explain it to you at another time." + +We stood silently for a few moments, and John said:-- + +"I hope I may find favor in your heart, Lady Madge. I wish to greet you +with my sincere homage." + +"Sir John, I am glad to greet you, but I fear the pendulum of which +Dorothy spoke will swing very far backward erelong." + +"Let it swing as far back as it chooses," answered Dorothy, with a toss of +her head, "I am ready to buy and to pay for happiness. That seems to be +the only means whereby we may have it. I am ready to buy it with pain any +day, and am willing to pay upon demand. Pain passes away; joy lasts +forever." + +"I know," said Sir John, addressing Madge, "I know it is not prudent for +Malcolm and me to be here to-day; but imprudent things seem to be the most +delightful." + +"For men, Sir John," returned Madge. "Upon women they leave their mark." + +"I fear you are right," he answered. "I had not thought of my visit in +that light. For Mistress Vernon's sake it is better that I do not remain +in Derby." + +"For Mistress Vernon's sake you shall remain," cried that impetuous young +woman, clutching John's arm. + +After a time, Dorothy wishing to visit one of the shops to make purchases, +it was agreed between us that we should all walk out. Neither Dorothy nor +Madge had ever before visited Derby-town. John and I had visited the place +but once; that was upon the occasion of our first meeting. No one in the +town knew us, and we felt safe in venturing forth into the streets. So we +helped Dorothy and Madge to don their furs, and out we went happier and +more reckless than four people have any good right to be. But before +setting out I went to the tap-room and ordered dinner. + +I found the host and directed him to prepare a dozen partridges in a pie, +a haunch of venison, a few links of German sausage, and a capon. The host +informed me that he had in his pantry a barrel of roots called potatoes +which had been sent to him by a sea-captain who had recently returned from +the new world. He hurried away and brought a potato for inspection. It was +of a gray brown color and near the size of an egg. The landlord assured me +that it was delicious when baked, and I ordered four, at the cost of a +crown each. I understand that my Lord Raleigh claims to have brought the +first potatoes and tobacco into England in '85; but I know that I smoked +tobacco in '66, and I saw potatoes at the Royal Arms in Derby-town in '67. +I also ordered another new dish for our famous dinner. It was a brown +beverage called coffee. The berries from which the beverage is made mine +host showed to me, and said they had been brought to him by a sea-faring +man from Arabia. I ordered a pot of the drink at a cost of three crowns. I +have heard it said that coffee was not known in Europe or in England till +it was introduced by Rawolf in '73, but I saw it at the Royal Arms in '67. +In addition to this list, I ordered for our drinking sweet wine from +Madeira and red wine from Burgundy. The latter-named wine had begun to +grow in favor at the French court when I left France five years before. It +was little liked in England. All these dainties were rare at the time of +which I write; but they have since grown into considerable use, and I +doubt not, as we progress in luxury, they will become common articles of +food upon the tables of the rich. Prongs, or forks, as they are called, +which by some are used in cutting and eating one's food at table, I also +predict will become implements of daily use. It is really a filthy +fashion, which we have, of handling food with our fingers. The Italians +have used forks for some time, but our preachers speak against them, +saying God has given us our fingers with which to eat, and that it is +impious to thwart his purposes by the use of forks. The preachers will +probably retard the general use of forks among the common people. + +After I had given my order for dinner we started out on our ramble through +Derby-town. + +Shortly after we left the inn we divided into couples for the ostensible +reason that we did not wish to attract too much attention--Dorothy and +John, Madge and I! Our real reason for separating was--but you understand. + +Madge's hand lay like a span of snow upon my arm, and--but this time I +will restrain my tendency to rhapsodize. + +We walked out through those parts of the town which were little used, and +Madge talked freely and happily. + +She fairly babbled, and to me her voice was like the murmurings of the +rivers that flowed out of paradise. + +We had agreed with John and Dorothy to meet them at the Royal Arms in one +hour, and that time had almost passed when Madge and I turned our faces +toward the inn. + +When we were within a short distance of our hostelry we saw a crowd +gathered around a young man who was standing on a box. He was speaking in +a mournful, lugubrious voice and accompanied his words with violent +gesticulations. Out of curiosity we stopped to listen, and learned that +religion was our orator's theme. + +I turned to a man standing near me and asked:-- + +"Who is the fellow speaking?" + +"The pious man is Robert Brown. He is exhorting in the name of the Lord of +Hosts." + +"The pious Robert Brown?" I queried, "exhorting in the name of--of the +Lord of where, did you say?" + +"Hosts," laconically responded my friend, while listening intently to the +words of Brown. + +"Hosts, say you? Who is he?" I asked of my interesting neighbor. "I know +him not." + +"Doubtless you know Him not," responded the man, evidently annoyed at my +interruption and my flippancy. + +After a moment or two I, desiring to know more concerning the orator, +asked:-- + +"Robert Brown, say you?" + +"Even he," came the response. "It will be good for your soul if you but +listen to him in a prayerful mood. He is a young man upon whom the Spirit +hath descended plenteously." + +"The Spirit?" I asked. + +"Ay," returned my neighbor. + +I could not extract another word from him, so I had the worst of the +encounter. + +We had been standing there but a short time when the young exhorter +descended from his improvised pulpit and passed among the crowd for the +purpose of collecting money. His harangue had appeared ridiculous to me, +but Madge seemed interested in his discourse. She said:-- + +"He is very earnest, Malcolm," and at once my heart went out to the young +enthusiast upon the box. One kind word from Madge, and I was the fellow's +friend for life. I would have remained his friend had he permitted me that +high privilege. But that he would not do. When he came to me, I dropped +into his hat a small silver piece which shone brightly among a few black +copper coins. My liberal contribution did not induce him to kindness, but, +on the contrary, it attracted his attention to the giver. He looked at the +silver coin, and then turning his solemn gaze upon me, eyed me insolently +from head to foot. While doing so a look of profound disgust spread over +his mournful countenance. After a calm survey of my person, which to me +was uncomfortably long, he turned to the bystanders, and in the same +high-pitched, lugubrious voice which he had used when exhorting, said:-- + +"Brethren, here behold ye the type of anti-Christ," and he waved his thin +hand toward me much to my amusement and annoyance. "Here," said he, "we +find the leading strings to all that is iniquitous--vanity. It is +betokened in his velvets, satins, and laces. Think ye, young man," he +said, turning to me, "that such vanities are not an abomination in the +eyes of the God of Israel?" + +"I believe that the God of Israel cares nothing about my apparel," I +replied, more amused than angered. He paid no attention to my remark. + +"And this young woman," he continued, pointing to Madge, "this young +woman, daughter of the Roman harlot, no doubt, she also is arrayed in +silks, taffetas, and fine cloth. Look ye, friends, upon this abominable +collar of Satan; this ruff of fine linen, all smeared in the devil's own +liquor, starch. Her vanity is an offence in the nostrils of God's people." + +As he spoke he stretched forth his hand and caught in his clawlike grasp +the dainty white ruff that encircled Madge's neck. When I saw his act, my +first impulse was to run him through, and I drew my sword half from its +scabbard with that purpose. But he was not the sort of a man upon whom I +could use my blade. He was hardly more than a boy--a wild, half-crazed +fanatic, whose reason, if he had ever possessed any, had been lost in the +Charybdis of his zeal. He honestly thought it was his duty to insult +persons who apparently disagreed with him. Such a method of proselyting is +really a powerful means of persuasion among certain classes, and it has +always been used by men who have successfully founded permanent religious +sects. To plant successfully a religious thought or system requires more +violent aggression than to conquer a nation. + +Since I could not run the fellow through, I drew back my arm, and striking +as lightly as possible, I laid our zealous friend sprawling on his back. +Thus had I the honor of knocking down the founder of the Brownists. + +If I mistake not, the time will come, if these men are allowed to harangue +the populace, when the kings of England will be unable to accomplish the +feat of knocking down Brown's followers. Heresies, like noxious weeds, +grow without cultivation, and thrive best on barren soil. Or shall I say +that, like the goodly vine, they bear better fruit when pruned? I cannot +fully decide this question for myself; but I admire these sturdy fanatics +who so passionately love their own faith, and so bitterly hate all others, +and I am almost prepared to say that each new heresy brings to the world a +better orthodoxy. + +For a little time after my encounter with Brown, all my skill was needed +to ward off the frantic hero. He quickly rose to his feet, and, with the +help of his friends, seemed determined to spread the gospel by tearing me +to pieces. My sword point kept the rabble at a respectful distance for a +while, but they crowded closely upon me, and I should have been compelled +to kill some of them had I not been reënforced by two men who came to my +help and laid about them most joyfully with their quarterstaffs. A few +broken heads stemmed for a moment the torrent of religious enthusiasm, and +during a pause in the hostilities I hurriedly retreated with Madge, +ungratefully leaving my valiant allies to reap the full reward of victory +should the fortunes of war favor them. + +Madge was terribly frightened, and with her by my side I, of course, would +not have remained to fight the redoubtable Bayard himself. + +We hurried forward, but before we reached the inn we were overtaken by our +allies whom we had abandoned. Our friends were young men. One wore a rich, +half-rustic habit, and the other was dressed as a horse boy. Both were +intoxicated. I had been thankful for their help; but I did not want their +company. + +"How now, Cousin Madge?" said our richly dressed ally. "What in the +devil's name has brought you into this street broil?" + +"Ah, Cousin James, is it you?" replied the trembling girl. + +"Yes, but who is your friend that so cleverly unloaded his quarrel upon +us? Hell's fires! but they were like a swarm of wasps. Who is your friend, +Madge?" + +"Sir Malcolm Vernon," replied Madge. "Let me present you, Sir Malcolm, to +my cousin, Lord James Stanley." + +I offered my hand to his Lordship, and said:-- + +"I thank you much for your timely help. I should not have deserted you had +I not felt that my first duty was to extricate Lady Madge from the +disagreeable situation. We must hasten away from here, or the mad rabble +will follow us." + +"Right you are, my hearty," returned Stanley, slapping me on the shoulder. +"Of course you had to get the wench away. Where do you go? We will bear +you company." + +I longed to pay the fellow for his help by knocking him down; but the +possibilities of trouble ahead of us were already too great, and I forced +myself to be content with the prowess already achieved. + +"But you have not told me what brought you into the broil," asked his +Lordship, as we walked toward the inn. + +"Sir Malcolm and I were walking out to see the town and--" + +"To see the town? By gad, that's good, Cousin Madge. How much of it did +you see? You are as blind as an owl at noon," answered his Lordship. + +"Alas! I am blind," returned Madge, clinging closely to me, and shrinking +from her cousin's terrible jest. I could not think of anything +sufficiently holy and sacred upon which to vow my vengeance against this +fellow, if the time should ever come when I dared take it. + +"Are you alone with this--this gentleman?" asked his Lordship, grasping +Madge by the arm. + +"No," returned Madge, "Dorothy is with us." + +"She is among the shops," I volunteered reluctantly. + +"Dorothy? Dorothy Vernon? By gad, Tod, we are in luck. I must see the +wench I am to marry," said his Lordship, speaking to his companion, the +stable boy. "So Dorothy is with you, is she, cousin? I haven't seen her +for years. They say she is a handsome filly now. By gad, she had room to +improve, for she was plain enough, to frighten rats away from a barn when +I last saw her. We will go to the inn and see for ourselves, won't we, +Tod? Dad's word won't satisfy us when it comes to the matter of marrying, +will it, Tod?" + +Tod was the drunken stable boy who had assisted his Lordship and me in +our battle with the Brownists. + +I was at a loss what course to pursue. I was forced to submit to this +fellow's company, and to endure patiently his insolence. But John and +Dorothy would soon return, and there is no need that I should explain the +dangers of the predicament which would then ensue. + +When we were within a few yards of the inn door I looked backward and saw +Dorothy and John approaching us. I held up my hand warningly. John caught +my meaning, and instantly leaving Dorothy's side, entered an adjacent +shop. My movement had attracted Stanley's attention, and he turned in the +direction I had been looking. When he saw Dorothy, he turned again to me +and asked:-- + +"Is that Dorothy Vernon?" + +"Yes," I replied. + +"Look at her, Tod!" exclaimed my lord, "look at her, Tod! The dad was +right about her, after all. I thought the old man was hoaxing me when he +told me that she was beautiful. Holy Virgin, Tod, did you ever see +anything so handsome? I will take her quick enough; I will take her. Dad +won't need to tease me. I'm willing." + +Dorothy approached to within a few yards of us, and my Lord Stanley +stepped forward to meet her. + +"Ye don't know me, do ye?" said Stanley. + +Dorothy was frightened and quickly stepped to my side. + +"I--I believe not," responded Dorothy. + +"Lord James Stanley," murmured Madge, who knew of the approaching Stanley +marriage. + +"Madge is right," returned. Stanley, grinning foolishly. "I am your cousin +James, but not so much of a cousin that I cannot be more than cousin, +heh?" He laughed boisterously, and winking at Tod, thrust his thumb into +that worthy's ribs. "Say, Tod, something more than cousin; that's the +thing, isn't it, Tod?" + +John was standing half-concealed at the door of the shop in which he had +sought refuge. Dorothy well knew the peril of the situation, and when I +frowned at her warningly, she caught the hint that she should not resent +Stanley's words, however insulting and irritating they might become. + +"Let us go to the inn," said Dorothy. + +"That's the thing to do. Let us go to the inn and have dinner," said +Stanley. "It's two hours past dinner time now, and I'm almost famished. +We'll have a famous dinner. Come, cousin," said he, addressing Dorothy. +"We'll have kidneys and tripe and--" + +"We do not want dinner," said Dorothy. "We must return home at once. Sir +Malcolm, will you order Dawson to bring out the coach?" + +We went to the inn parlor, and I, loath to do so, left the ladies with +Stanley and his horse-boy friend while I sought Dawson for the purpose of +telling him to fetch the coach with all haste. + +"We have not dined," said the forester. + +"We shall not dine," I answered. "Fetch the coach with all the haste you +can make." The bystanders in the tap-room were listening, and I continued, +"A storm is brewing, and we must hasten home." + +True enough, a storm was brewing. + +When I left Dawson, I hurriedly found John and told him we were preparing +to leave the inn, and that we would expect him to overtake us on the road +to Rowsley. + +I returned to the ladies in the parlor and found them standing near the +window. Stanley had tried to kiss Dorothy, and she had slapped his face. +Fortunately he had taken the blow good-humoredly, and was pouring into her +unwilling ear a fusillade of boorish compliments when. I entered the +parlor. + +I said, "The coach is ready." + +The ladies moved toward the door. "I am going to ride with you, my +beauty," said his Lordship. + +"That you shall not do," retorted Dorothy, with blazing eyes. + +"That I will do," he answered. "The roads are free to all, and you cannot +keep me from following you." + +Dorothy was aware of her predicament, and I too saw it, but could find no +way out of it. I was troubled a moment; but my fear was needless, for +Dorothy was equal to the occasion. + +"We should like your company, Cousin Stanley," replied Dorothy, without a +trace of anger in her manner, "but we cannot let you ride with us in the +face of the storm that is brewing." + +"We won't mind the storm, will we, Tod? We are going with our cousin." + +"If you insist upon being so kind to us," said Dorothy, "you may come. But +I have changed my mind about dinner. I am very hungry, and we accept your +invitation." + +"Now you are coming around nicely," said Lord James, joyfully. "We like +that, don't we, Tod?" + +Tod had been silent under all circumstances. + +Dorothy continued: "Madge and I will drive in the coach to one or two of +the shops, and we shall return in one hour. Meantime, Cousin Stanley, we +wish you to have a fine dinner prepared for us, and we promise to do ample +justice to the fare." + +"She'll never come back," said silent Tod, without moving a muscle. + +"How about it, cousin?" asked Stanley. "Tod says you'll never come back; +he means that you are trying to give us the slip." + +"Never fear, Cousin Stanley," she returned, "I am too eager for dinner +not to come back. If you fail to have a well-loaded table for me, I shall +never speak to you again." + +We then went to the coach, and as the ladies entered it Dorothy said aloud +to Dawson:-- + +"Drive to Conn's shop." + +I heard Tod say to his worthy master:-- + +"She's a slippin' ye." + +"You're a fool, Tod. Don't you see she wants me more than she wants the +dinner, and she's hungry, too." + +"Don't see," retorted his laconic friend. + +Of course when the coach was well away from the inn, Dawson received new +instructions, and took the road to Rowsley. When the ladies had departed, +I went to the tap-room with Stanley, and after paying the host for the +coffee, the potatoes, and the dinner which alas! we had not tasted, I +ordered a great bowl of sack and proceeded to drink with my allies in the +hope that I might make them too drunk to follow us. Within half an hour I +discovered that I was laboring at a hopeless task. There was great danger +that I would be the first to succumb; so I, expressing a wish to sleep off +the liquor before the ladies should return, made my escape from the +tap-room, mounted my horse, and galloped furiously after Dorothy and +Madge. John was riding by the coach when I overtook it. + +It was two hours past noon when I came up with John and the girls. Snow +had been falling softly earlier in the afternoon, but as the day advanced +the storm grew in violence. A cold, bleak wind was blowing from the north, +and by reason of the weather and because of the ill condition of the +roads, the progress of the coach was so slow that darkness overtook us +before we had finished half of our journey to Rowsley. Upon the fall of +night the storm increased in violence, and the snow came in piercing, +horizontal shafts which stung like the prick of a needle. + +At the hour of six--I but guessed the time--John and I, who were riding +at the rear of the coach, heard close on our heels the trampling of +horses. I rode forward to Dawson, who was in the coach box, and told him +to drive with all the speed he could make. I informed him that some one +was following us, and that I feared highwaymen were on our track. + +Hardly had I finished speaking to Dawson when I heard the report of a +hand-fusil, back of the coach, near the spot where I had left John. I +quickly drew my sword, though it was a task of no small labor, owing to +the numbness of my fingers. I breathed along the blade to warm it, and +then I hastened to John, whom I found in a desperate conflict with three +ruffians. No better swordsman than John ever drew blade, and he was +holding his ground in the darkness right gallantly. When I rode to his +rescue, another hand-fusil was discharged, and then another, and I knew +that we need have no more fear from bullets, for the three men had +discharged their weapons, and they could not reload while John and I were +engaging them. I heard the bullets tell upon the coach, and I heard the +girls screaming lustily. I feared they had been wounded, but you may be +sure I had no leisure to learn the truth. Three against two was terrible +odds in the dark, where brute force and luck go for more than skill. We +fought desperately for a while, but in the end we succeeded in beating off +the highwaymen. When we had finished with the knaves who had attacked us, +we quickly overtook our party. We were calling Dawson to stop when we saw +the coach, careening with the slant of the hill, topple over, and fall to +the bottom of a little precipice five or six feet in height. We at once +dismounted and jumped down the declivity to the coach, which lay on its +side, almost covered by drifted snow. The pole had broken in the fall, and +the horses were standing on the road. We first saw Dawson. He was +swearing like a Dutchman, and when we had dragged him from his snowy +grave, we opened the coach door, lifted out the ladies, and seated them +upon the uppermost side of the coach. They were only slightly bruised, but +what they lacked in bruises they made up in fright. In respect to the +latter it were needless for me to attempt a description. + +We can laugh about it now and speak lightly concerning the adventure, and, +as a matter of truth, the humor of the situation appealed to me even then. +But imagine yourself in the predicament, and you will save me the trouble +of setting forth its real terrors. + +The snow was up to our belts, and we did not at first know how we were to +extricate the ladies. John and Dawson, however, climbed to the road, and I +carried Dorothy and Madge to the little precipice where the two men at the +top lifted them from my arms. The coach was broken, and when I climbed to +the road, John, Dawson, and myself held a council of war against the +storm. Dawson said we were three good miles from Rowsley, and that he knew +of no house nearer than the village at which we could find shelter. We +could not stand in the road and freeze, so I got the blankets and robes +from the coach and made riding pads for Dorothy and Madge. These we +strapped upon the broad backs of the coach horses, and then assisted the +ladies to mount. I walked by the side of Madge, and John performed the +same agreeable duty for Dorothy. Dawson went ahead of us, riding my horse +and leading John's; and thus we travelled to Rowsley, half dead and nearly +frozen, over the longest three miles in the kingdom. + +John left us before entering the village, and took the road to Rutland, +intending to stop for the night at a cottage two miles distant, upon his +father's estates. I was to follow Sir John when the ladies were safely +lodged at The Peacock. + +It was agreed between us that nothing should be said concerning the +presence of any man save Dawson and myself in our party. + +When John left us, I rode to The Peacock with Dorothy and Madge, and while +I was bidding them good-by my violent cousin, Sir George, entered the inn. +Dorothy ran to her father and briefly related the adventures of the night, +dwelling with undeserved emphasis upon the help I had rendered. She told +her father--the statement was literally true--that she had met me at the +Royal Arms, where I was stopping, and that she had, through fear of the +storm and in dread of highwaymen, asked me to ride beside their coach to +Rowsley. + +When I saw Sir George enter the room, I expected to have trouble with him; +but after he had spoken with Dorothy, much to my surprise, he offered me +his hand and said:-- + +"I thank you, Malcolm, for the help you have rendered my girls, and I am +glad you have come back to us." + +"I have not come back to you, Sir George," said I, withholding my hand. "I +met Mistress Vernon and Lady Madge at the Royal Arms, and escorted them to +Rowsley for reasons which she has just given to you. I was about to depart +when you entered." + +"Tut, tut! Malcolm, you will come with us to Haddon Hall." + +"To be ordered away again, Sir George?" I asked. + +"I did not order you to go. You left in a childish fit of anger. Why in +the devil's name did you run away so quickly? Could you not have given a +man time to cool off? You treated me very badly, Malcolm." + +"Sir George, you certainly know--" + +"I know nothing of the sort. Now I want not another word from you. Damme! +I say, not another word. If I ever ordered you to leave Haddon Hall, I +didn't know what I was doing," cried Sir George, heartily. + +"But you may again not know," said I. + +"Now, Malcolm, don't be a greater fool than I was. If I say I did not +order you to leave Haddon Hall, can't you take me at my word? My age and +my love for you should induce you to let me ease my conscience, if I can. +If the same illusion should ever come over you again--that is, if you +should ever again imagine that I am ordering you to leave Haddon +Hall--well, just tell me to go to the devil. I have been punished enough +already, man. Come home with us. Here is Dorothy, whom I love better than +I love myself. In anger I might say the same thing to her that I said to +you, but--Nonsense, Malcolm, don't be a fool. Come home with us. Haddon is +your home as freely as it is the home of Dorothy, Madge, and myself." + +The old gentleman's voice trembled, and I could not withstand the double +force of his kindness and my desire. So it came about that when Madge held +out her fair hand appealingly to me, and when Dorothy said, "Please come +home with us, Cousin Malcolm," I offered my hand to Sir George, and with +feeling said, "Let us make this promise to each other: that nothing +hereafter shall come between us." + +"I gladly promise," responded the generous, impulsive old man. "Dorothy, +Madge, and you are all in this world whom I love. Nothing shall make +trouble between us. Whatever happens, we will each forgive." + +The old gentleman was in his kindest, softest mood. + +"Let us remember the words," said I. + +"I give my hand and my word upon it," cried Sir George. + +How easy it is to stake the future upon a present impulse. But when the +time for reckoning comes,--when the future becomes the present,--it is +sometimes hard to pay the priceless present for the squandered past. Next +morning we all rode home to Haddon,--how sweet the words sound even at +this distance of time!--and there was rejoicing in the Hall as if the +prodigal had returned. + +In the evening I came upon Madge unawares. She was softly singing a +plaintive little love song. I did not disturb her, and as I stole away +again I said to myself, "God is good." A realization of that great truth +had of late been growing upon me. When once we thoroughly learn it, life +takes on a different color. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TRIBULATION IN HADDON + + +After I had left Haddon at Sir George's tempestuous order, he had remained +in a state of furious anger against Dorothy and myself for a fortnight or +more. But after her adroit conversation with him concerning the Stanley +marriage, wherein she neither promised nor refused, and after she learned +that she could more easily cajole her father than command him, Dorothy +easily ensconced herself again in his warm heart, and took me into that +capacious abode along with her. + +Then came the trip to Derby, whereby his serene Lordship, James Stanley, +had been enabled to see Dorothy and to fall in love with her winsome +beauty, and whereby I was brought back to Haddon. Thereafter came events +crowding so rapidly one upon the heels of another that I scarce know where +to begin the telling of them. I shall not stop to say, "Sir George told me +this," or "Madge, Dorothy, or John told me that," but I shall write as if +I had personal knowledge of all that happened. After all, the important +fact is that I know the truth concerning matters whereof I write, and of +that you may rest with surety. + +The snow lay upon the ground for a fortnight after the storm in which we +rode from Derby, but at the end of that time it melted, and the sun shone +with the brilliancy and warmth of springtide. So warm and genial was the +weather that the trees, flowers, and shrubs were cozened into budding +forth. The buds were withered by a killing frost which came upon us later +in the season at a time when the spring should have been abroad in all her +graciousness, and that year was called the year of the leafless summer. + +One afternoon Sir George received a distinguished guest in the person of +the Earl of Derby, and the two old gentlemen remained closeted together +for several hours. That night at supper, after the ladies had risen from +table, Sir George dismissed the servants saying that he wished to speak to +me in private. I feared that he intended again bringing forward the +subject of marriage with Dorothy, but he soon relieved my mind. + +"The Earl of Derby was here to-day. He has asked for Doll's hand in +marriage with his eldest son and heir, Lord James Stanley, and I have +granted the request." + +"Indeed," I responded, with marvellous intelligence. I could say nothing +more, but I thought--in truth I knew--that it did not lie within the power +of any man in or out of England to dispose of Dorothy Vernon's hand in +marriage to Lord James Stanley. Her father might make a murderess out of +her, but Countess of Derby, never. + +Sir George continued, "The general terms of the marriage contract have +been agreed upon by the earl and me, and the lawyers will do the rest." + +"What is your feeling in the matter?" I asked aimlessly. + +"My feeling?" cried Sir George. "Why, sir, my feeling is that the girl +shall marry Stanley just as soon as arrangements can be made for the +wedding ceremony. The young fellow, it seems, saw Doll at Derby-town the +day you came home, and since then he is eager, his father tells me, for +the union. He is coming to see her when I give my permission, and I will +send him word at as early a date as propriety will admit. I must not let +them be seen together too soon, you know. There might be a hitch in the +marriage negotiations. The earl is a tight one in business matters, and +might drive a hard bargain with me should I allow his son to place Doll in +a false position before the marriage contract is signed." He little knew +how certainly Dorothy herself would avoid that disaster. + +He took a long draught from his mug of toddy and winked knowingly at me, +saying, "I am too wise for that." + +"Have you told Dorothy?" I asked. + +"No," he replied, "I have not exactly told her. I had a talk with her a +few days ago on the subject, though the earl and I had not, at that time, +entirely agreed upon the terms, and I did not know that we should agree. +But I told her of the pending negotiations, because I wished to prepare +her for the signing of the contract; and also, by gad, Malcolm, I wanted +to make the girl understand at the outset that I will have no trifling +with my commands in this matter. I made that feature of the case very +plain, you may rest assured. She understands me fully, and although at +first she was a little inclined to fight, she soon--she soon--well, she +knuckled under gracefully when she found she must." + +"Did she consent to the marriage?" I asked, well knowing that even if she +had consented in words, she had no thought of doing so in deed. + +"Y-e-s," returned Sir George, hesitatingly. + +"I congratulate you," I replied. + +"I shall grieve to lose Doll," the old man slowly continued with +perceptible signs of emotion. "I shall grieve to lose my girl, but I am +anxious to have the wedding over. You see, Malcolm, of late I have noticed +signs of wilfulness in Doll that can be more easily handled by a husband +than by a father. Marriage and children anchor a woman, you know. In +truth, I have opened my eyes to the fact that Doll is growing dangerous. +I'gad, the other day I thought she was a child, but suddenly I learn she +is a woman. I had not before noticed the change. Beauty and wilfulness, +such as the girl has of late developed, are powers not to be +underestimated by wise men. There is hell in them, Malcolm, I tell you +there is hell in them." Sir George meditatively snuffed the candle with +his fingers and continued: "If a horse once learns that he can kick--sell +him. Only yesterday, as I said, Doll was a child, and now, by Jove, she is +a full-blown woman, and I catch myself standing in awe of her and calling +her Dorothy. Yes, damme, standing in awe of my own child! That will never +do, you know. What has wrought the change? And, after all, what is the +change? I can't define it, but there has been a great one." + +He was in a revery and spoke more to himself than to me. "Yesterday she +was my child--she was a child, and now--and now--she is--she is--Why the +devil didn't you take her, Malcolm?" cried the old man, awakening. "But +there, never mind; that is all past and gone, and the future Earl of Derby +will be a great match for her." + +"Do you know the future Earl of Derby?" I asked. "Have you ever seen him?" + +"No," Sir George replied. "I hear he is rather wild and uncouth, but--" + +"My dear cousin," said I, interrupting him, "he is a vulgar, drunken +clown, whose associates have always been stable boys, tavern maids, and +those who are worse than either." + +"What?" cried Sir George, hotly, the liquor having reached his brain. "You +won't have Doll yourself, and you won't consent to another--damme, would +you have the girl wither into spinsterhood? How, sir, dare you interfere?" + +"I withdraw all I said, Sir George," I replied hastily. "I have not a word +to say against the match. I thought--" + +"Well, damn you, sir, don't think." + +"You said you wished to consult me about the affair, and I supposed--" + +"Don't suppose either," replied Sir George, sullenly. "Supposing and +thinking have hanged many a man. I didn't wish to consult you. I simply +wanted to tell you of the projected marriage." Then after a moment of +half-maudlin, sullen silence he continued, "Go to bed, Malcolm, go to bed, +or we'll be quarrelling again." + +I was glad enough to go to bed, for my cousin was growing drunk, and drink +made a demon of this man, whose violence when sober was tempered by a +heart full of tenderness and love. + +Next morning Sir George was feeling irritable from the effects of the +brandy he had drunk over night. At breakfast, in the presence of Lady +Crawford, Madge, and myself, he abruptly informed Dorothy that he was +about to give that young goddess to Lord James Stanley for his wife. He +told her of the arrangement he had made the day before with the Earl of +Derby. Lady Crawford looked toward her brother in surprise, and Madge +pushed her chair a little way back from the table with a startled +movement. Dorothy sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing fire and her +breast rising and falling like the storm-wrought pulsing of the sea. I +coughed warningly and placed my finger on my lips, making the sign of +silence to Dorothy. The girl made a wondrous and beautiful struggle +against her wrath, and in a moment all signs of ill-temper disappeared, +and her face took on an expression of sweet meekness which did not belong +there of right. She quietly sat down again, and when I looked at her, I +would have sworn that Griselda in the flesh was sitting opposite me. Sir +George was right. "Ways such as the girl had of late developed were +dangerous." Hell was in them to an extent little dreamed of by her father. +Breakfast was finished in silence. Dorothy did not come down to dinner at +noon, but Sir George did not mark her absence. At supper her place was +still vacant. + +"Where is Doll?" cried Sir George, angrily. He had been drinking heavily +during the afternoon. "Where is Doll?" he demanded. + +"She is on the terrace," answered Madge. "She said she did not want +supper." + +"Tell your mistress to come to supper," said Sir George, speaking to one +of the servants. "You will find her on the terrace." + +The servant left the room, but soon returned, saying that Mistress Dorothy +wanted no supper. + +"Tell her to come to the table whether she wants supper or not. Tell her I +will put a stop to her moping about the place like a surly vixen," growled +Sir George. + +"Don't send such a message by a servant," pleaded Lady Crawford. + +"Then take it to her yourself, Dorothy," exclaimed her brother. + +Dorothy returned with her aunt and meekly took her place at the table. + +"I will have none of your moping and pouting," said Sir George, as Dorothy +was taking her chair. + +The girl made no reply, but she did not eat. + +"Eat your supper," her father commanded. "I tell you I will have no--" + +"You would not have me eat if I am not hungry, would you, father?" she +asked softly. + +"I'd have you hungry, you perverse wench." + +"Then make me an appetite," returned the girl. I never heard more ominous +tones fall from human lips. They betokened a mood in which one could +easily do murder in cold blood, and I was surprised that Sir George did +not take warning and remain silent. + +"I cannot make an appetite for you, fool," he replied testily. + +"Then you cannot make me eat," retorted Dorothy. + +"Ah, you would answer me, would you, you brazen, insolent huzzy," cried +her father, angrily. + +Dorothy held up her hand warningly to Sir George, and uttered the one +word, "Father." Her voice sounded like the clear, low ring of steel as I +have heard it in the stillness of sunrise during a duel to the death. +Madge gently placed her hand in Dorothy's, but the caress met no response. + +"Go to your room," answered Sir George. + +Dorothy rose to her feet and spoke calmly: "I have not said that I would +disobey you in regard to this marriage which you have sought for me; and +your harshness, father, grows out of your effort to reconcile your +conscience with the outrage you would put upon your own flesh and +blood--your only child." + +"Suffering God!" cried Sir George, frenzied with anger and drink. "Am I to +endure such insolence from my own child? The lawyers will be here +to-morrow. The contract will be signed, and, thank God, I shall soon be +rid of you. I'll place you in the hands of one who will break your +damnable will and curb your vixenish temper." Then he turned to Lady +Crawford. "Dorothy, if there is anything to do in the way of gowns and +women's trumpery in preparation for the wedding, begin at once, for the +ceremony shall come off within a fortnight." + +This was beyond Dorothy's power to endure. Madge felt the storm coming and +clutched her by the arm in an effort to stop her, but nothing could have +done that. + +"I marry Lord Stanley?" she asked in low, bell-like tones, full of +contempt and disdain. "Marry that creature? Father, you don't know me." + +"By God, I know myself," retorted Sir George, "and I say--" + +"Now hear me, father," she interrupted in a manner that silenced even +him. She bent forward, resting one fair hand upon the table, while she +held out her other arm bared to the elbow. "Hear what I say and take it +for the truth as if it had come from Holy Writ. I will open the veins in +this arm and will strew my blood in a gapless circle around Haddon Hall so +that you shall tread upon it whenever you go forth into the day or into +the night before I will marry the drunken idiot with whom you would curse +me. Ay, I will do more. I will kill you, if need be, should you try to +force him on me. Now, father, we understand each other. At least you +cannot fail to understand me. For the last time I warn you. Beware of me." + +She gently pushed the chair back from the table, quietly adjusted the +sleeve which she had drawn upward from her wrist, and slowly walked out of +the room, softly humming the refrain of a roundelay. There was no trace of +excitement about the girl. Her brain was acting with the ease and +precision of a perfectly constructed machine. Sir George, by his violence +and cruelty, had made a fiend of this strong, passionate, tender heart. +That was all. + +The supper, of course, was quickly finished, and the ladies left the room. + +Sir George took to his bottle and remained with it till his servants put +him to bed. I slipped away from him and smoked a pipe in front of the +kitchen fire. Then I went early to my bed in Eagle Tower. + +Dorothy went to her apartments. There she lay upon her bed, and for a time +her heart was like flint. Soon she thought of her precious golden heart +pierced with a silver arrow, and tears came to her eyes as she drew the +priceless treasure from her breast and breathed upon it a prayer to the +God of love for help. Her heart was soft again, soft only as hers could +be, and peace came to her as she pressed John's golden heart to her lips +and murmured over and over the words, "My love, my love, my love," and +murmuring fell asleep. + +I wonder how many of the countless women of this world found peace, +comfort, and ecstasy in breathing those magic words yesterday? How many +have found them to-day? How many will find them to-morrow? No one can +tell; but this I know, they come to every woman at some time in her life, +righteously or unrighteously, as surely as her heart pulses. + +That evening Jennie Faxton bore a letter to John, informing him of the +projected Stanley marriage. It asked him to meet the writer at Bowling +Green Gate, and begged him to help her if he could. + +The small and intermittent remnants of conscience, sense of duty, and +caution which still remained in John's head--I will not say in John's +heart, for that was full to overflowing with something else--were quickly +banished by the unwelcome news in Dorothy's letter. His first impulse was +to kill Stanley; but John Manners was not an assassin, and a duel would +make public all he wished to conceal. He wished to conceal, among other +things, his presence at Rutland. He had two reasons for so desiring. First +in point of time was the urgent purpose with which he had come to +Derbyshire. That purpose was to further a plan for the rescue of Mary +Stuart and to bring her incognito to Rutland Castle as a refuge until +Elizabeth could be persuaded to receive her. Of this plan I knew nothing +till after the disastrous attempt to carry it out, of which I shall +hereafter tell you. The other reason why John wished his presence at +Rutland unknown was that if he were supposed to be in London, no one would +suspect him of knowing Dorothy Vernon. + +You must remember there had been no overt love-making between John and +Dorothy up to that time. The scene at the gate approached perilously near +it, but the line between concealment and confession had not been crossed. +Mind you, I say there had been no love-making _between_ them. While +Dorothy had gone as far in that direction as a maiden should dare go--and +to tell the exact truth, a great deal farther--John had remained almost +silent for reasons already given you. He also felt a fear of the girl, and +failed to see in her conduct those signs of intense love which would have +been plainly discernible had not his perceptions been blinded by the fury +of his own infatuation. He had placed a curb on his passion and did not +really know its strength and power until he learned that another man was +soon to possess the girl he loved. Then life held but one purpose for him. +Thus, you see that when Dorothy was moaning, "My love, my love," and was +kissing the golden heart, she was taking a great deal for granted. +Perhaps, however, she better understood John's feeling for her than did he +himself. A woman's sixth sense, intuition, is a great help to her in such +cases. Perhaps the girl knew with intuitive confidence that her passion +was returned; and perhaps at first she found John's receptive mode of +wooing sweeter far than an aggressive attack would have been. It may be +also there was more of the serpent's cunning than of reticence in John's +conduct. He knew well the ways of women, and perhaps he realized that if +he would allow Dorothy to manage the entire affair she would do his wooing +for him much better than he could do it for himself. If you are a man, try +the plan upon the next woman whom you seek to win. If she happens to be +one who has full confidence in her charms, you will be surprised at the +result. Women lacking that confidence are restrained by fear and doubt. +But in no case have I much faith in the hammer-and-tongs process at the +opening of a campaign. Later on, of course--but you doubtless are quite as +well informed concerning this important subject as I. There is, however, +so much blundering in that branch of science that I have a mind to endow a +college at Oxford or at Paris in which shall be taught the gentle, +universally needed art of making love. What a noble attendance such a +college would draw. But I have wandered wofully from my story. + +I must go back a short time in my narrative. A few days before my return +to Haddon Hall the great iron key to the gate in the wall east of Bowling +Green Hill was missed from the forester's closet where it had hung for a +century or more. Bowling Green Hill, as you know, is eastward from Haddon +Hall a distance of the fourth part of a mile, and the gate is east of the +hill about the same distance or less. A wall is built upon the east line +of the Haddon estate, and east of the wall lies a great trackless forest +belonging to the house of Devonshire. In olden times there had been a road +from Bakewell to Rowsley along the east side of the wall; but before Sir +George's seizin the road had been abandoned and the gate was not used. It +stood in a secluded, unfrequented spot, and Dorothy thought herself very +shrewd in choosing it for a trysting-place. + +But as I told you, one day the key was missed. It was of no value or use, +and at first nothing was thought of its loss; but from time to time the +fact that it could not be found was spoken of as curious. All the servants +had been questioned in vain, and the loss of the key to Bowling Green Gate +soon took on the dignity of a mystery--a mystery soon to be solved, alas! +to Dorothy's undoing. + +The afternoon of the day following the terrible scene between Sir George +and his daughter at the supper table, Dorothy rode forth alone upon her +mare Dolcy. From the window of my room in Eagle Tower I saw her go down +the west side of the Wye toward Rowsley. I ascended to the roof of the +tower, and from that elevation I saw her cross the river, and soon she was +lost to sight in the forest. At that time I knew nothing of the new +trysting-place, but I felt sure that Dorothy had gone out to seek John. +The sun shone brightly, and its gentle warmth enticed me to remain upon +the tower battlements, to muse, and to dream. I fetched my pipe and +tobacco from my room. I had been smoking at intervals for several months, +but had not entirely learned to like the weed, because of a slight nausea +which it invariably caused me to feel. But I thought by practice now and +again to inure myself to the habit, which was then so new and fashionable +among modish gentlemen. While I smoked I mused upon the past and present, +and tried to peer into the future--a fruitless task wherein we waste much +valuable time; a vain striving, like Eve's, after forbidden knowledge, +which, should we possess it, would destroy the little remnant of Eden +still existing on earth. Could we look forward only to our joys, a +knowledge of the future might be good to have; but imagine, if you can, +the horror of anticipating evils to come. + +After a short time, a lotuslike dreaminess stole over me, and past and +future seemed to blend in a supreme present of contentment and rest. Then +I knew I had wooed and won Tobacco and that thenceforth I had at hand an +ever ready solace in time of trouble. At the end of an hour my dreaming +was disturbed by voices, which came distinctly up to me from the base of +the tower. I leaned over the battlements to listen, and what I heard gave +me alarm and concern such as all the tobacco in the world could not +assuage. I looked down the dizzy heights of Eagle Tower and saw Sir George +in conversation with Ben Shaw, a woodman. I had not heard the words first +spoken between them. + +"Ay, ay, Sir George," said Ben, "they be there, by Bowling Green Gate, +now. I saw them twenty minutes since,--Mistress Vernon and a gentleman." + +"Perhaps the gentleman is Sir Malcolm," answered my cousin. I drew back +from the battlements, and the woodman replied, "Perhaps he be, but I doubt +it." + +There had been a partial reconciliation--sincere on Sir George's part, but +false and hollow on Dorothy's--which Madge had brought about between +father and daughter that morning. Sir George, who was sober and repentant +of his harshness, was inclined to be tender to Dorothy, though he still +insisted in the matter of the Stanley marriage. Dorothy's anger had +cooled, and cunning had taken its place. Sir George had asked her to +forgive him for the hard words he had spoken, and she had again led him to +believe that she would be dutiful and obedient. It is hard to determine, +as a question of right and wrong, whether Dorothy is to be condemned or +justified in the woful deception she practised upon her father. To use a +plain, ugly word, she lied to him without hesitation or pain of +conscience. Still, we must remember that, forty years ago, girls were +frequently forced, regardless of cries and piteous agony, into marriages +to which death would have been preferable. They were flogged into +obedience, imprisoned and starved into obedience, and alas! they were +sometimes killed in the course of punishment for disobedience by men of +Sir George's school and temper. I could give you at least one instance in +which a fair girl met her death from punishment inflicted by her father +because she would not consent to wed the man of his choice. Can we blame +Dorothy if she would lie or rob or do murder to avoid a fate which to her +would have been worse than death? When you find yourself condemning her, +now or hereafter in this history, if you are a man ask yourself this +question: "If I had a sweetheart in Dorothy's sad case, should I not wish +her to do as she did? Should I not wish, if it were possible by any +means, that she should save herself from the worst of fates, and should +save me from the agony of losing her to such a man as Sir George had +selected for Dorothy's husband? Is it not a sin to disobey the law of +self-preservation actively or passively?" Answer these questions as you +choose. As for myself, I say God bless Dorothy for lying. Perhaps I am in +error. Perhaps I am not. I but tell you the story of Dorothy as it +happened, and I am a poor hand at solving questions of right and wrong +where a beautiful woman is concerned. To my thinking, she usually is in +the right. In any case, she is sure to have the benefit of the doubt. + +When Sir George heard the woodman's story, he started hurriedly toward +Bowling Green Gate. + +Now I shall tell you of Dorothy's adventures after I saw her cross the +Wye. + +When she reached the gate, John was waiting for her. + +"Ah, Sir John, I am so glad you are here. That is, I am glad you are here +before I arrived--good even," said the girl, confusedly. Her heart again +was beating in a provoking manner, and her breath would not come with ease +and regularity. The rapid progress of the malady with which she was +afflicted or blessed was plainly discernible since the last meeting with +my friend, Sir John. That is, it would have been plain to any one but +John, whose ailment had taken a fatal turn and had progressed to the +ante-mortem state of blindness. By the help of the stimulating hope and +fear which Dorothy's letter had brought to him, he had planned an +elaborate conversation, and had determined to speak decisive words. He +hoped to receive from her the answer for which he longed; but his heart +and breath seemed to have conspired with Dorothy to make +intercommunication troublesome. + +"I received your gracious letter, Mistress Vernon, and I thank you. I +was--I am--that is, my thanks are more than I--I can express." + +"So I see," said the girl, half amused at John's condition, although it +was but little worse than her own. This universal malady, love, never +takes its blind form in women. It opens their eyes. Under its influence +they can see the truth through a millstone. The girl's heart jumped with +joy when she saw John's truth-telling manner, and composure quickly came +to her relief, though she still feigned confusion because she wished him +to see the truth in her as she had seen it in him. She well knew of his +blindness, and had almost begun to fear lest she would eventually be +compelled to tell him in words that which she so ardently wished him to +see for himself. She thought John was the blindest of his sex; but she +was, to a certain extent, mistaken. John was blind, as you already know, +but his reticence was not all due to a lack of sight. He at least had +reached the condition of a well-developed hope. He hoped the girl cared +for him. He would have fully believed it had it not been for the +difficulty he found in convincing himself that a goddess like Dorothy +could care for a man so unworthy as himself. Most modest persons are +self-respecting. That was John's condition; he was not vain. + +"Jennie brought me your letter also," said the girl, laughing because she +was happy, though her merriment somewhat disconcerted John. + +"It told me," she continued, "that you would come. I have it here in my +pocket--and--and the gate key." She determined this time to introduce the +key early in the engagement. "But I feared you might not want to come." +The cunning, the boldness, and the humility of the serpent was in the +girl. "That is, you know, I thought--perhaps--that is, I feared that you +might not come. Your father might have been ill, or you might have changed +your mind after you wrote the letter." + +"No," answered John, whose face was beaming with joy. Here, truly, was a +goddess who could make the blind to see if she were but given a little +time. + +"Do you mean that your father is not ill, or that you did not change your +mind?" asked Dorothy, whose face, as it should have been after such a +speech, was bent low while she struggled with the great iron key, +entangled in the pocket of her gown. + +"I mean that I have not changed my mind," said John, who felt that the +time to speak had come. "There has been no change in me other than a new +access of eagerness with every hour, and a new longing to see you and to +hear your voice." + +Dorothy felt a great thrill pass through her breast, and she knew that the +reward of her labors was at hand. + +"Certainly," said the self-complacent girl, hardly conscious of her words, +so great was the joyous tumult in her heart, "I should have known." + +There was another pause devoted to the key, with bended head. "But--but +you might have changed your mind," she continued, "and I might not have +known it, for, you see, I did not know your former state of mind; you have +never told me." Her tongue had led her further than she had intended to +go, and she blushed painfully, and I think, considering her words, +appropriately. + +"My letter told you my state of mind. At least it told you of my intention +to come. I--I fear that I do not understand you," said John. + +"I mean," she replied, with a saucy, fluttering little laugh as she looked +up from her conflict with the entangled key, "I mean that--that you don't +know what I mean. But here is the key at last, and--and--you may, if you +wish, come to this side of the gate." + +She stepped forward to unlock the gate with an air that seemed to say, +"Now, John, you shall have a clear field." + +But to her surprise she found that the lock had been removed. That +discovery brought back to John his wandering wits. + +"Mistress Dorothy," he cried in tones of alarm, "I must not remain here. +We are suspected and are sure to be discovered. Your father has set a trap +for us. I care not for myself, but I would not bring upon you the trouble +and distress which would surely follow discovery. Let us quickly choose +another place and time of meeting. I pray you, sweet lady, meet me +to-morrow at this time near the white cliff back of Lathkil mill. I have +that to say to you which is the very blood of my heart. I must now leave +you at once." + +He took her hand, and kissing it, started to leave through the open gate. + +The girl caught his arm to detain him. "Say it now, John, say it now. I +have dreamed of it by night and by day. You know all, and I know all, and +I long to hear from your lips the words that will break down all barriers +between us." She had been carried away by the mad onrush of her passion. +She was the iron, the seed, the cloud, and the rain, and she spoke because +she could not help it. + +"I will speak, Dorothy, God help me! God help me, I will speak!" said +John, as he caught the girl to his breast in a fierce embrace. "I love +you, I love you! God Himself only knows how deeply, how passionately! I do +not know. I cannot fathom its depths. With all my heart and soul, with +every drop of blood that pulses through my veins, I love you--I adore you. +Give me your lips, my beauty, my Aphrodite, my queen!" + +"There--they--are, John,--there they are. They are--all yours--all +yours--now! Oh, God! my blood is on fire." She buried her face on his +breast for shame, that he might not see her burning eyes and her scarlet +cheeks. Then after a time she cared not what he saw, and she lifted her +lips to his, a voluntary offering. The supreme emotions of the moment +drove all other consciousness from their souls. + +"Tell me, Dorothy, that you will be my wife. Tell me, tell me!" cried +John. + +"I will, I will, oh, how gladly, how gladly!" + +"Tell me that no power on earth can force you to marry Lord Stanley. Tell +me that you will marry no man but me; that you will wait--wait for me +till--" + +"I will marry no man but you, John, no man but you," said the girl, +whisperingly. Her head was thrown back from his breast that she might look +into his eyes, and that he might see the truth in hers. "I am all yours. +But oh, John, I cannot wait--I cannot! Do not ask me to wait. It would +kill me. I wear the golden heart you gave me, John," she continued, as she +nestled closer in his embrace. "I wear the golden heart always. It is +never from me, even for one little moment. I bear it always upon my heart, +John. Here it is." She drew from her breast the golden heart and kissed +it. Then she pressed it to his lips, and said: "I kiss it twenty times in +the day and in the night; ay, a hundred times. I do not know how often; +but now I kiss your real heart, John," and she kissed his breast, and then +stood tiptoe to lift her lips to his. + +There was no room left now in John's heart for doubt that Dorothy Vernon +was his own forever and forever. She had convinced him beyond the reach of +fear or doubt. John forgot the lockless gate. He forgot everything but +Dorothy, and cruel time passed with a rapidity of which they were +unconscious. They were, however, brought back to consciousness by hearing +a long blast from the forester's bugle, and John immediately retreated +through the gate. + +Dorothy then closed the gate and hastily seated herself upon a stone +bench against the Haddon side of the wall. She quickly assumed an attitude +of listless repose, and Dolcy, who was nibbling at the grass near by, +doubtless supposed that her mistress had come to Bowling Green Gate to +rest because it was a secluded place, and because she desired to be alone. + +Dorothy's attitude was not assumed one moment too soon, for hardly was her +gown arranged with due regard to carelessness when Sir George's form rose +above the crest of Bowling Green Hill. In a few minutes he was standing in +front of his daughter, red with anger. Dorothy's face wore a look of calm +innocence, which I believe would have deceived Solomon himself, +notwithstanding that great man's experience with the sex. It did more to +throw Sir George off the scent than any words the girl could have spoken. + +"Who has been with you?" demanded Sir George, angrily. + +"When, father?" queried the girl, listlessly resting her head against the +wall. + +"Now, this afternoon. Who has been with you? Ben Shaw said that a man was +here. He said that he saw a man with you less than half an hour since." + +That piece of information was startling to Dorothy, but no trace of +surprise was visible in her manner or in her voice. She turned listlessly +and brushed a dry leaf from her gown. Then she looked calmly up into her +father's face and said laconically, but to the point:-- + +"Ben lied." To herself she said, "Ben shall also suffer." + +"I do not believe that Ben lied," said Sir George. "I, myself, saw a man +go away from here." + +That was crowding the girl into close quarters, but she did not flinch. + +"Which way did he go, father?" she asked, with a fine show of carelessness +in her manner, but with a feeling of excruciating fear in her breast. She +well knew the wisdom of the maxim, "Never confess." + +"He went northward," answered Sir George. + +"Inside the wall?" asked Dorothy, beginning again to breathe freely, for +she knew that John had ridden southward. + +"Inside the wall, of course," her father replied. "Do you suppose I could +see him through the stone wall? One should be able to see through a stone +wall to keep good watch on you." + +"You might have thought you saw him through the wall," answered the girl. +"I sometimes think of late, father, that you are losing your mind. You +drink too much brandy, my dear father. Oh, wouldn't it be dreadful if you +were to lose your mind?" She rose as she spoke, and going to her father +began to stroke him gently with her hand. She looked into his face with +real affection; for when she deceived him, she loved him best as a partial +atonement for her ill-doing. + +"Wouldn't that be dreadful?" she continued, while Sir George stood lost in +bewilderment. "Wouldn't that be dreadful for my dear old father to lose +his mind? But I really think it must be coming to pass. A great change has +of late come over you, father. You have for the first time in your life +been unkind to me and suspicious. Father, do you realize that you insult +your daughter when you accuse her of having been in this secluded place +with a man? You would punish another for speaking so against my fair +name." + +"But, Dorothy," Sir George replied, feeling as if he were in the wrong, +"Ben Shaw said that he saw you here with a man, and I saw a man pass +toward Bakewell. Who was he? I command you to tell me his name." + +Dorothy knew that her father must have seen a man near the gate, but who +he was she could not imagine. John surely was beyond the wall and well out +of sight on his way to Rowsley before her father reached the crest of +Bowling Green Hill. But it was evident that Shaw had seen John. Evidence +that a man had been at the gate was too strong to be successfully +contradicted. Facts that cannot be successfully contradicted had better be +frankly admitted. Dorothy sought through her mind for an admission that +would not admit, and soon hit upon a plan which, shrewd as it seemed to +be, soon brought her to grief. + +"Perhaps you saw Cousin Malcolm," said Dorothy, as the result of her +mental search. "He passed here a little time since and stopped for a +moment to talk. Perhaps you saw Malcolm, father. You would not find fault +with me because he was here, would you?" + +"Dorothy, my daughter," said Sir George, hesitatingly, "are you telling me +the truth?" + +Then the fair girl lifted up her beautiful head, and standing erect at her +full height (it pains me to tell you this) said: "Father, I am a Vernon. I +would not lie." + +Her manner was so truthlike that Sir George was almost convinced. + +He said, "I believe you." + +Her father's confidence touched her keenly; but not to the point of +repentance, I hardly need say. + +Dorothy then grew anxious to return to the Hall that she might prepare me +to answer whatever idle questions her father should put to me. She took +Dolcy's rein, and leading the mare with one hand while she rested the +other upon her father's arm, walked gayly across Bowling Green down to the +Hall, very happy because of her lucky escape. + +But a lie is always full of latent retribution. + +I was sitting in the kitchen, dreamily watching the huge fire when Dorothy +and her father entered. + +"Ah, Malcolm, are you here?" asked Sir George in a peculiar tone of +surprise for which I could see no reason. + +"I thought you were walking." + +I was smoking. I took my pipe from my lips and said, "No, I am helping old +Bess and Jennie with supper." + +"Have you not been walking?" asked Sir George. + +There was an odd expression on his face when I looked up to him, and I was +surprised at his persistent inquiry concerning so trivial a matter. But +Sir George's expression, agitated as it was, still was calm when compared +with that of Dorothy, who stood a step or two behind her father. Not only +was her face expressive, but her hands, her feet, her whole body were +convulsed in an effort to express something which, for the life of me, I +could not understand. Her wonderful eyes wore an expression, only too +readable, of terror and pleading. She moved her hands rapidly and stamped +her foot. During this pantomime she was forming words with her lips and +nodding her head affirmatively. Her efforts at expression were lost upon +me, and I could only respond with a blank stare of astonishment. The +expression on my face caused Sir George to turn in the direction of my +gaze, and he did so just in time to catch Dorothy in the midst of a mighty +pantomimic effort at mute communication. + +"Why in the devil's name are you making those grimaces?" demanded Sir +George. + +"I wasn't making grimaces--I--I think I was about to sneeze," replied +Dorothy. + +"Do you think I am blind?" stormed Sir George. "Perhaps I am losing my +mind? You are trying to tell Malcolm to say that he was with you at +Bowling Green Gate. Losing my mind, am I? Damme, I'll show you that if I +am losing my mind I have not lost my authority in my own house." + +"Now, father, what is all this storming about?" asked the girl, coaxingly, +as she boldly put her hands upon her father's shoulders and turned her +face in all its wondrous beauty and childish innocence of expression up to +his. "Ask Malcolm to tell you whatever you wish to know." She was sure +that her father had told me what she had been so anxious to communicate, +and she felt certain that I would not betray her. She knew that I, whose +only virtues were that I loved my friend and despised a lie, would +willingly bear false witness for her sake. She was right. I had caught the +truth of the situation from Sir George, and I quickly determined to +perjure my soul, if need be, to help Dorothy. I cannot describe the +influence this girl at times exerted over me. When under its spell I +seemed to be a creature of her will, and my power to act voluntarily was +paralyzed by a strange force emanating from her marvellous vitality. I +cannot describe it. I tell you only the incontestable fact, and you may +make out of it whatever you can. I shall again in the course of this +history have occasion to speak of Dorothy's strange power, and how it was +exerted over no less a person than Queen Elizabeth. + +"Ask Malcolm," repeated the girl, leaning coaxingly upon her father's +breast. But I was saved from uttering the lie I was willing to tell; for, +in place of asking me, as his daughter had desired, Sir George demanded +excitedly of Dorothy, "What have you in your pocket that strikes against +my knee?" + +"Mother of Heaven!" exclaimed Dorothy in a whisper, quickly stepping back +from her father and slowly lifting her skirt while she reached toward her +pocket. Her manner was that of one almost bereft of consciousness by +sudden fright, and an expression of helplessness came over her face which +filled my heart with pity. She stood during a long tedious moment holding +with one hand the uplifted skirt, while with the other she clutched the +key in her pocket. + +"What have you in your pocket?" demanded Sir George with a terrible oath. +"Bring it out, girl. Bring it out, I tell you." Dorothy started to run +from the room, but her father caught her by the wrist and violently drew +her to him. "Bring it out, huzzy; it's the key to Bowling Green Gate. Ah, +I've lost my mind, have I? Blood of Christ! I have not lost my mind yet, +but I soon shall lose it at this rate," and he certainly looked as if he +would. + +Poor frightened Dorothy was trying to take the key from her pocket, but +she was too slow to please her angry father, so he grasped the gown and +tore a great rent whereby the pocket was opened from top to bottom. +Dorothy still held the key in her hand, but upon the floor lay a piece of +white paper which had fallen out through the rent Sir George had made in +the gown. He divined the truth as if by inspiration. The note, he felt +sure, was from Dorothy's unknown lover. He did not move nor speak for a +time, and she stood as if paralyzed by fear. She slowly turned her face +from her father to me, and in a low tone spoke my name, "Malcolm." Her +voice was hardly louder than a whisper, but so piteous a cry for help I +have never heard from human lips. Then she stooped, intending to take the +letter from the floor, and Sir George drew back his arm as if he would +strike her with his clenched hand. She recoiled from him in terror, and he +took up the letter, unfolded it, and began to read:-- + +"Most gracious lady, I thank you for your letter, and with God's help I +will meet you at Bowling Green Gate--." The girl could endure no more. She +sprang with a scream toward her father and tried to snatch the letter. Sir +George drew back, holding firmly to the paper. She followed him +frantically, not to be thrown off, and succeeded in clutching the letter. +Sir George violently thrust her from him. In the scuffle that ensued the +letter was torn, and the lower portion of the sheet remained in Dorothy's +hand. She ran to the fireplace, intending to thrust the fragment into the +fire, but she feared that her father might rescue it from the ashes. She +glanced at the piece of paper, and saw that the part she had succeeded in +snatching from her father bore John's name. Sir George strode hurriedly +across the room toward her and she ran to me. + +"Malcolm! Malcolm!" she cried in terror. The cry was like a shriek. Then I +saw her put the paper in her mouth. When she reached me she threw herself +upon my breast and clung to me with her arms about my neck. She trembled +as a single leaf among the thousands that deck a full-leaved tree may +tremble upon a still day, moved by a convulsive force within itself. While +she clung to me her glorious bust rose and fell piteously, and her +wondrous eyes dilated and shone with a marvellous light. The expression +was the output of her godlike vitality, strung to its greatest tension. +Her face was pale, but terror dominated all the emotions it expressed. Her +fear, however, was not for herself. The girl, who would have snapped her +fingers at death, saw in the discovery which her father was trying to +make, loss to her of more than life. That which she had possessed for less +than one brief hour was about to be taken from her. She had not enjoyed +even one little moment alone in which to brood her new-found love, and to +caress the sweet thought of it. The girl had but a brief instant of rest +in my arms till Sir George dragged her from me by his terrible strength. + +"Where is the paper?" he cried in rage. "It contained the fellow's +signature." + +"I have swallowed it, father, and you must cut me open to find it. +Doubtless that would be a pleasant task for you," answered Dorothy, who +was comparatively calm now that she knew her father could not discover +John's name. I believe Sir George in his frenzy would have killed the girl +had he then learned that the letter was from John Manners. + +"I command you to tell me this fellow's name," said Sir George, with a +calmness born of tempest. Dorothy did not answer, and Sir George continued +"I now understand how you came by the golden heart. You lied to me and +told me that Malcolm had given it to you. Lie upon lie. In God's name I +swear that I would rather father a thief than a liar." + +"I did give her the heart, Sir George," I said, interrupting him. "It was +my mother's." I had caught the lying infection. But Sir George, in his +violence, was a person to incite lies. He of course had good cause for his +anger. Dorothy had lied to him. Of that there could be no doubt; but her +deception was provoked by his own conduct and by the masterful love that +had come upon her. I truly believe that prior to the time of her meeting +with Manners she had never spoken an untruth, nor since that time I also +believe, except when driven to do so by the same motive. Dorothy was not a +thief, but I am sure she would have stolen for the sake of her lover. She +was gentle and tender to a degree that only a woman can attain; but I +believe she would have done murder in cold blood for the sake of her love. +Some few women there are in whose hearts God has placed so great an ocean +of love that when it reaches its flood all other attributes of heart and +soul and mind are ingulfed in its mighty flow. Of this rare class was +Dorothy. + +"God is love," says the Book. + +"The universe is God," says the philosopher. "Therefore," as the +mathematician would say, "love is the universe." To that proposition +Dorothy was a corollary. + +The servants were standing open-eyed about us in the kitchen. + +"Let us go to the dining hall," I suggested. Sir George led the way by the +stone steps to the screens, and from the screens to the small banquet +hail, and I followed, leading Dorothy by the hand. + +The moment of respite from her father's furious attack gave her time in +which to collect her scattered senses. + +When we reached the banquet hall, and after I had closed the door, Sir +George turned upon his daughter, and with oath upon oath demanded to know +the name of her lover. Dorothy stood looking to the floor and said +nothing. Sir George strode furiously to and fro across the room. + +"Curse the day you were born, you wanton huzzy. Curse you! curse you! Tell +me the name of the man who wrote this letter," he cried, holding toward +her the fragment of paper. "Tell me his name or, I swear it before God, I +swear it upon my knighthood, I will have you flogged in the upper court +till you bleed. I would do it if you were fifty times my child." + +Then Dorothy awakened. The girl was herself again. Now it was only for +herself she had to fear. + +Her heart kept saying, "This for his sake, this for his sake." Out of her +love came fortitude, and out of her fortitude came action. + +Her father's oath had hardly been spoken till the girl tore her bodice +from her shoulders. She threw the garment to the floor and said:-- + +"I am ready for the whip, I am ready. Who is to do the deed, father, you +or the butcher? It must be done. You have sworn it, and I swear before God +and by my maidenhood that I will not tell you the name of the man who +wrote the letter. I love him, and before I will tell you his name or +forego his love for me, or before I will abate one jot or tittle of my +love for him, I will gladly die by the whip in your hand. I am ready for +the whip, father. I am ready. Let us have it over quickly." + +The girl, whose shoulders were bare, took a few steps toward the door +leading to the upper court, but Sir George did not move. I was deeply +affected by the terrible scene, and I determined to prevent the flogging +if to do so should cost Sir George's life at my hands. I would have +killed him ere he should have laid a single lash of the whip upon +Dorothy's back. + +"Father," continued the terrible girl, "are you not going to flog me? +Remember your oaths. Surely you would not be forsworn before God and upon +your knighthood. A forsworn Christian? A forsworn knight? A forsworn +Vernon? The lash, father, the lash--I am eager for it." + +Sir George stood in silence, and Dorothy continued to move toward the +door. Her face was turned backward over her shoulder to her father, and +she whispered the words, "Forsworn, forsworn, forsworn!" + +As she put her hand on the latch the piteous old man held forth his arms +toward her and in a wail of agony cried: "Doll! Doll! My daughter! My +child! God help me!" + +He covered his face with his hands, his great form shook for a moment as +the tree trembles before the fall, and he fell prone to the floor sobbing +forth the anguish of which his soul was full. + +In an instant Dorothy was by her father's side holding his head upon her +lap. She covered his face with her kisses, and while the tears streamed +from her eyes she spoke incoherent words of love and repentance. + +"I will tell you all, father; I will tell you all. I will give him up; I +will see him never again. I will try not to love him. Oh, father, forgive +me, forgive me. I will never again deceive you so long as I live." + +Truly the fate of an overoath is that it shall be broken. When one swears +to do too much, one performs too little. + +I helped Sir George rise to his feet. + +Dorothy, full of tenderness and in tears, tried to take his hand, but he +repulsed her rudely, and uttering terrible oaths coupled with her name +quitted the room with tottering steps. + +When her father had gone Dorothy stood in revery for a little time, and +then looking toward the door through which her father had just passed, she +spoke as if to herself: "He does not know. How fortunate!" + +"But you said you would tell him," I suggested. "You said you would give +him up." + +Dorothy was in a deep revery. She took her bodice from the floor and +mechanically put it on. + +"I know I said I would tell my father, and I offered to give--give him +up," she replied; "but I will do neither. Father would not meet my love +with love. He would not forgive me, nor would he accept my repentance when +it was he who should have repented. I was alarmed and grieved for father's +sake when I said that I would tell him about--about John, and would give +him up." She was silent and thoughtful for a little time. "Give him up?" +she cried defiantly. "No, not for my soul; not for ten thousand thousand +souls. When my father refused my love, he threw away the only opportunity +he shall ever have to learn from me John's name. That I swear, and I shall +never be forsworn. I asked father's forgiveness when he should have begged +for mine. Whip me in the courtyard, would he, till I should bleed! Yet I +was willing to forgive him, and he would not accept my forgiveness. I was +willing to forego John, who is more than life to me; but my father would +not accept my sacrifice. Truly will I never be so great a fool the second +time. Malcolm, I will not remain here to be the victim of another insult +such as my father put upon me to-day. There is no law, human or divine, +that gives to a parent the right to treat his daughter as my father has +used me. Before this day my conscience smote me when I deceived him, and I +suffered pain if I but thought of my father. But now, thanks to his +cruelty, I may be happy without remorse. Malcolm, if you betray me, I +will--I will kill you if I must follow you over the world to do it." + +"Do you think that I deserve that threat from you, Dorothy?" I asked. + +"No, no, my dear friend, forgive me. I trust you," and she caught up my +hand and kissed it gently. + +Dorothy and I remained in the banquet hail, seated upon the stone bench +under the blazoned window. + +Soon Sir George returned, closely followed by two men, one of whom bore +manacles such as were used to secure prisoners in the dungeon. Sir George +did not speak. He turned to the men and motioned with his hand toward +Dorothy. I sprang to my feet, intending to interfere by force, if need be, +to prevent the outrage; but before I could speak Lady Crawford hurriedly +entered the hall and ran to Sir George's side. + +"Brother," she said, "old Bess has just told me that you have given orders +for Dorothy's confinement in the dungeon. I could not believe Bess; but +these men with irons lead me to suspect that you really intend.--" + +"Do not interfere in affairs that do not concern you," replied Sir George, +sullenly. + +"But this does concern me greatly," said Aunt Dorothy, "and if you send +Doll to the dungeon, Madge and I will leave your house and will proclaim +your act to all England." + +"The girl has disobeyed me and has lied to me, and--" + +"I care not what she has done, I shall leave your house and disown you for +my brother if you perpetrate this outrage upon my niece. She is dear to me +as if she were my own child. Have I not brought her up since babyhood? If +you carry out this order, brother, I will leave Haddon Hall forever." + +"And I'll go with her," cried old Bess, who stood at the door of the +screens. + +"And I, too," said Dawson, who was one of the men who had entered with Sir +George. + +"And I," cried the other man, throwing the manacles to the floor, "I will +leave your service." + +Sir George took up the manacles and moved toward Dorothy. + +"You may all go, every cursed one of you. I rule my own house, and I will +have no rebels in it. When I have finished with this perverse wench, I'll +not wait for you to go. I'll drive you all out and you may go to--" + +He was approaching Dorothy, but I stepped in front of him. + +"This must not be, Sir George," said I, sternly. "I shall not leave Haddon +Hall, and I fear you not. I shall remain here to protect your daughter and +you from your own violence. You cannot put me out of Haddon Hall; I will +not go." + +"Why cannot I put you out of Haddon Hail?" retorted Sir George, whose rage +by that time was frightful to behold. + +"Because, sir, I am a better man and a better swordsman than you are, and +because you have not on all your estates a servant nor a retainer who will +not join me against you when I tell them the cause I champion." + +Dawson and his fellow stepped to my side significantly, and Sir George +raised the iron manacles as if intending to strike me. I did not move. At +the same moment Madge entered the room. + +"Where is my uncle?" she asked. + +Old Bess led her to Sir George. She spoke not a word, but placed her arms +gently about his neck and drew his face down to hers. Then she kissed him +softly upon the lips and said:-- + +"My uncle has never in all his life spoken in aught but kindness to me, +and now I beg him to be kind to Dorothy." + +The heavy manacles fell clanking to the floor. Sir George placed his hand +caressingly upon Madge's head and turned from Dorothy. + +[Illustration] + +Lady Crawford then approached her brother and put her hand upon his arm, +saying:-- + +"Come with me, George, that I may speak to you in private." + +She moved toward the door by which she had entered, and Madge quietly took +her uncle's hand and led him after Lady Crawford. Within five minutes Sir +George, Aunt Dorothy, and Madge returned to the room. + +"Dorothy?" said Madge in a low voice. + +"Here I am, Madge," murmured Dorothy, who was sitting on the bench by the +blazoned window. Madge walked gropingly over to her cousin and sat by her +side, taking her hand. Then Lady Crawford spoke to Dorothy:-- + +"Your father wishes me to say that you must go to your apartments in +Entrance Tower, and that you shall not leave them without his consent. He +also insists that I say to you if you make resistance or objection to this +decree, or if you attempt to escape, he will cause you to be manacled and +confined in the dungeon, and that no persuasion upon our part will lead +him from his purpose." + +"Which shall it be?" asked Sir George, directing his question to Lady +Crawford. + +Dorothy lifted her eyebrows, bit the corner of her lip, shrugged her +shoulders, and said:-- + +"Indeed, it makes no difference to me where you send me, father; I am +willing to do whatever will give you the greatest happiness. If you +consult my wishes, you will have me whipped in the courtyard till I bleed. +I should enjoy that more than anything else you can do. Ah, how tender is +the love of a father! It passeth understanding." + +"Come to your apartments, Dorothy," said Lady Crawford, anxious to +separate the belligerents. "I have given your father my word of honor that +I will guard you and will keep you prisoner in your rooms. Do you not pity +me? I gave my promise only to save you from the dungeon, and painful as +the task will be, I will keep my word to your father." + +"Which shall it be, father?" asked Dorothy. "You shall finish the task you +began. I shall not help you in your good work by making choice. You shall +choose my place of imprisonment. Where shall it be? Shall I go to my rooms +or to the dungeon?" + +"Go to your rooms," answered Sir George, "and let me never see--" but Sir +George did not finish the sentence. He hurriedly left the hall, and +Dorothy cheerfully went to imprisonment in Entrance Tower. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MALCOLM No. 2 + + +Sir George had done a bad day's work. He had hardened Dorothy's heart +against himself and had made it more tender toward John. Since her father +had treated her so cruelly, she felt she was at liberty to give her heart +to John without stint. So when once she was alone in her room the +flood-gates of her heart were opened, and she poured forth the ineffable +tenderness and the passionate longings with which she was filled. With +solitude came the memory of John's words and John's kisses. She recalled +every movement, every word, every tone, every sensation. She gave her soul +unbridled license to feast with joyous ecstasy upon the thrilling +memories. All thoughts of her father's cruelty were drowned in a sea of +bliss. She forgot him. In truth, she forgot everything but her love and +her lover. That evening, after she had assisted Madge to prepare for bed, +as was her custom, Dorothy stood before her mirror making her toilet for +the night. In the flood of her newly found ecstasy she soon forgot that +Madge was in the room. + +Dorothy stood before her mirror with her face near to its polished +surface, that she might scrutinize every feature, and, if possible, verify +John's words. + +"He called me 'my beauty' twice," she thought, "and 'my Aphrodite' once." +Then her thoughts grew into unconscious words, and she spoke aloud:-- + +"I wish he could see me now." And she blushed at the thought, as she +should have done. "He acted as if he meant all he said," she thought. "I +know he meant it. I trust him entirely. But if he should change? Holy +Mother, I believe I should die. But I do believe him. He would not lie, +even though he is not a Vernon." + +With thoughts of the scene between herself and her father at the gate, +there came a low laugh, half of amusement, half of contentment, and the +laugh meant a great deal that was to be regretted; it showed a sad change +in Dorothy's heart. But yesterday the memory of her deceit would have +filled her with grief. To-night she laughed at it. Ah, Sir George! +Pitiable old man! While your daughter laughs, you sigh and groan and moan, +and your heart aches with pain and impotent rage. Even drink fails to +bring comfort to you. I say impotent rage, because Dorothy is out of your +reach, and as surely as the sun rises in the east she is lost to you +forever. The years of protection and tender love which you have given to +her go for nothing. Now comes the son of your mortal enemy, and you are +but an obstruction in her path. Your existence is forgotten while she +revels in the memory of his words, his embraces, and his lips. She laughs +while you suffer, in obedience to the fate that Heaven has decreed for +those who bring children into this world. + +Who is to blame for the pitiable mite which children give in return for a +parent's flood of love? I do not know, but of this I am sure: if parents +would cease to feel that they own their children in common with their +horses, their estates, and their cattle; if they would not, as many do in +varying degrees, treat their children as their property, the return of +love would be far more adequate than it is. + +Dorothy stood before her mirror plaiting her hair. Her head was turned +backward a little to one side that she might more easily reach the great +red golden skein. In that entrancing attitude the reflection of the nether +lip of which John had spoken so fondly came distinctly to Dorothy's +notice. She paused in the braiding of her hair and held her face close to +the mirror that she might inspect the lip, whose beauty John had so +ardently admired. She turned her face from one side to the other that she +might view it from all points, and then she thrust it forward with a +pouting movement that would have set the soul of a mummy pulsing if he had +ever been a man. She stood for a moment in contemplation of the full red +lip, and then resting her hands upon the top of the mirror table leaned +forward and kissed its reflected image. + +Again forgetfulness fell upon her and her thoughts grew into words. + +"He was surely right concerning my lower lip," she said, speaking to +herself. Then without the least apparent relevance, "He had been smoking." +Again her words broke her revery, and she took up the unfinished braid of +hair. When she did so, she caught a glimpse of her arm which was as +perfectly rounded as the fairest marble of Phidias. She stretched the arm +to its full length that the mirror might reflect its entire beauty. Again +she thought aloud: "I wish he could see my arm. Perhaps some day--" But +the words ceased, and in their place came a flush that spread from her +hair to her full white throat, and she quickly turned the mirror away so +that even it should not behold her beauty. + +You see after all is told Dorothy was modest. + +She finished her toilet without the aid of her mirror; but before she +extinguished the candle she stole one more fleeting glance at its polished +surface, and again came the thought, "Perhaps some day--" Then she covered +the candle, and amid enfolding darkness lay down beside Madge, full of +thoughts and sensations that made her tremble; for they were strange to +her, and she knew not what they meant. + +Dorothy thought that Madge was asleep, but after a few minutes the latter +said:-- + +"Tell me, Dorothy, who was on fire?" + +"Who was on fire?" asked Dorothy in surprise. "What do you mean, Madge?" + +"I hope they have not been trying to burn any one," said Madge. + +"What do you mean?" again asked Dorothy. + +"You said 'He had been smoking,'" responded Madge. + +"Oh," laughed Dorothy, "that is too comical. Of course not, dear one. I +was speaking of--of a man who had been smoking tobacco, as Malcolm does." +Then she explained the process of tobacco smoking. + +"Yes, I know," answered Madge. "I saw Malcolm's pipe. That is, I held it +in my hands for a moment while he explained to me its use." + +Silence ensued for a moment, and Madge again spoke:-- + +"What was it he said about your lower lip, and who was he? I did not learn +why Uncle George wished to confine you in the dungeon. I am so sorry that +this trouble has come upon you." + +"Trouble, Madge?" returned Dorothy. "Truly, you do not understand. No +trouble has come upon me. The greatest happiness of my life has come to +pass. Don't pity me. Envy me. My happiness is so sweet and so great that +it frightens me." + +"How can you be happy while your father treats you so cruelly?" asked +Madge. + +"His conduct makes it possible for my happiness to be complete," returned +Dorothy. "If he were kind to me, I should be unhappy, but his cruelty +leaves me free to be as happy as I may. For my imprisonment in this room I +care not a farthing. It does not trouble me, for when I wish to see--see +him again, I shall do so. I don't know at this time just how I shall +effect it; but be sure, sweet one, I shall find a way." There was no doubt +in Madge's mind that Dorothy would find a way. + +"Who is he, Dorothy? You may trust me. Is he the gentleman whom we met at +Derby-town?" + +"Yes," answered Dorothy, "he is Sir John Manners." + +"Dorothy!" exclaimed Madge in tones of fear. + +"It could not be worse, could it, Madge?" said Dorothy. + +"Oh, Dorothy!" was the only response. + +"You will not betray me?" asked Dorothy, whose alarm made her suspicious. + +"You know whether or not I will betray you," answered Madge. + +"Indeed, I know, else I should not have told you my secret. Oh, you should +see him, Madge; he is the most beautiful person living. The poor soft +beauty of the fairest woman grows pale beside him. You cannot know how +wonderfully beautiful a man may be. You have never seen one." + +"Yes, I have seen many men, and I well remember their appearance. I was +twelve years old, you know, when I lost my sight." + +"But, Madge," said Dorothy, out of the fulness of her newly acquired +knowledge, "a girl of twelve cannot see a man." + +"No woman sees with her eyes the man whom she loves," answered Madge, +quietly. + +"How does she see him?" queried Dorothy. + +"With her heart." + +"Have you, too, learned that fact?" asked Dorothy. + +Madge hesitated for a moment and murmured "Yes." + +"Who is he, dear one?" whispered Dorothy. + +"I may not tell even you, Dorothy," replied Madge, "because it can come +to nothing. The love is all on my part." + +Dorothy insisted, but Madge begged her not to ask for her secret. + +"Please don't even make a guess concerning him," said Madge. "It is my +shame and my joy." + +It looked as if this malady which had fallen upon Dorothy were like the +plague that infects a whole family if one but catch it. + +Dorothy, though curious, was generous, and remained content with Madge's +promise that she should be the first one to hear the sweet story if ever +the time should come to tell it. + +"When did you see him?" asked Madge, who was more willing to receive than +to impart intelligence concerning affairs of the heart. + +"To-day," answered Dorothy. Then she told Madge about the scenes at the +gate and described what had happened between her and Sir George in the +kitchen and banquet hall. + +"How could you tell your father such a falsehood?" asked Madge in +consternation. + +"It was very easy. You see I had to do it. I never lied until recently. +But oh, Madge, this is a terrible thing to come upon a girl!" "This" was +somewhat indefinite, but Madge understood, and perhaps it will be clear to +you what Dorothy meant. The girl continued: "She forgets all else. It will +drive her to do anything, however wicked. For some strange cause, under +its influence she does not feel the wrong she does. It acts upon a girl's +sense of right and wrong as poppy juice acts on pain. Before it came upon +me in--in such terrible force, I believe I should have become ill had I +told my father a falsehood. I might have equivocated, or I might have +evaded the truth in some slight degree, but I could not have told a lie. +But now it is as easy as winking." + +"And I fear, Dorothy," responded Madge, "that winking is very easy for +you." + +"Yes," answered candid Dorothy with a sigh. + +"It must be a very great evil," said Madge, deploringly. + +"One might well believe so," answered Dorothy, "but it is not. One +instinctively knows it to be the essence of all that is good." + +Madge asked, "Did Sir John tell you that--that he--" + +"Yes," said Dorothy, covering her face even from the flickering rays of +the rushlight. + +"Did you tell him?" + +"Yes," came in reply from under the coverlet. + +After a short silence Dorothy uncovered her face. + +"Yes," she said boldly, "I told him plainly; nor did I feel shame in so +doing. It must be that this strange love makes one brazen. You, Madge, +would die with shame had you sought any man as I have sought John. I would +not for worlds tell you how bold and over-eager I have been." + +"Oh, Dorothy!" was all the answer Madge gave. + +"You would say 'Oh, Dorothy,' many times if you knew all." Another pause +ensued, after which Madge asked:-- + +"How did you know he had been smoking?" + +"I--I tasted it," responded Dorothy. + +"How could you taste it? I hope you did not smoke?" returned Madge in +wonderment. + +Dorothy smothered a little laugh, made two or three vain attempts to +explain, tenderly put her arms about Madge's neck and kissed her. + +"Oh, Dorothy, that certainly was wrong," returned Madge, although she had +some doubts in her own mind upon the point. + +"Well, if it is wrong," answered Dorothy, sighing, "I don't care to live." + +"Dorothy, I fear you are an immodest girl," said Madge. + +"I fear I am, but I don't care--John, John, John!" + +"How came he to speak of your lower lip?" asked Madge. "It certainly is +very beautiful; but how came he to speak of it?" + +"It was after--after--once," responded Dorothy. + +"And your arm," continued remorseless Madge, "how came he to speak of it? +You surely did not--" + +"No, no, Madge; I hope you do not think I would show him my arm. I have +not come to that. I have a poor remnant of modesty left; but the Holy +Mother only knows how long it will last. No, he did not speak of my arm." + +"You spoke of your arm when you were before the mirror," responded Madge, +"and you said, 'Perhaps some day--'" + +"Oh, don't, Madge. Please spare me. I indeed fear I am very wicked. I will +say a little prayer to the Virgin to-night. She will hear me, even If I am +wicked; and she will help me to become good and modest again." + +The girls went to sleep, and Dorothy dreamed "John, John, John," and +slumbered happily. + +That part of the building of Haddon Hall which lies to the northward, west +of the kitchen, consists of rooms according to the following plan:-- + +The two rooms in Entrance Tower over the great doors at the northwest +corner of Haddon Hall were occupied by Dorothy and Madge. The west room +overlooking the Wye was their parlor. The next room to the east was their +bedroom. The room next their bedroom was occupied by Lady Crawford. Beyond +that was Sir George's bedroom, and east of his room was one occupied by +the pages and two retainers. To enter Dorothy's apartments one must pass +through all the other rooms I have mentioned. Her windows were twenty-five +feet from the ground and were barred with iron. After Dorothy's sentence +of imprisonment, Lady Crawford, or some trusted person in her place, was +always on guard in Aunt Dorothy's room to prevent Dorothy's escape, and +guards were also stationed in the retainer's room for the same purpose. I +tell you this that you may understand the difficulties Dorothy would have +to overcome before she could see John, as she declared to Madge she would. +But my opinion is that there are no limits to the resources of a wilful +girl. Dorothy saw Manners. The plan she conceived to bring about the +desired end was so seemingly impossible, and her execution of it was so +adroit and daring, that I believe it will of itself interest you in the +telling, aside from the bearing it has upon this history. No sane man +would have deemed it possible, but this wilful girl carried it to +fruition. She saw no chance of failure. To her it seemed a simple, easy +matter. Therefore she said with confidence and truth, "I will see him when +I wish to." + +Let me tell you of it. + +During Dorothy's imprisonment I spent an hour or two each evening with her +and Madge at their parlor in the tower. The windows of the room, as I have +told you, faced westward, overlooking the Wye, and disclosed the +beautiful, undulating scenery of Overhaddon Hill in the distance. + +One afternoon when Madge was not present Dorothy asked me to bring her a +complete suit of my garments,--boots, hose, trunks, waistcoat, and +doublet. I laughed, and asked her what she wanted with them, but she +refused to tell me. She insisted, however, and I promised to fetch the +garments to her. Accordingly the next evening I delivered the bundle to +her hands. Within a week she returned them all, saving the boots. Those +she kept--for what reason I could not guess. + +Lady Crawford, by command of Sir George, carried in her reticule the key +of the door which opened from her own room into Sir George's apartments, +and the door was always kept locked. + +Dorothy had made several attempts to obtain possession of the key, with +intent, I believe, of making a bold dash for liberty. But Aunt Dorothy, +mindful of Sir George's wrath and fearing him above all men, acted +faithfully her part of gaoler. She smiled, half in sadness, when she told +me of the girl's simplicity in thinking she could hoodwink a person of +Lady Crawford's age, experience, and wisdom. The old lady took great pride +in her own acuteness. The distasteful task of gaoler, however, pained good +Aunt Dorothy, whose simplicity was, in truth, no match for Dorothy's +love-quickened cunning. But Aunt Dorothy's sense of duty and her fear of +Sir George impelled her to keep good and conscientious guard. + +One afternoon near the hour of sunset I knocked for admission at Lady +Crawford's door. When I had entered she locked the door carefully after +me, and replaced the key in the reticule which hung at her girdle. + +I exchanged a few words with her Ladyship, and entered Dorothy's bedroom, +where I left my cloak, hat, and sword. The girls were in the parlor. When +I left Lady Crawford she again took her chair near the candle, put on her +great bone-rimmed spectacles, and was soon lost to the world in the pages +of "Sir Philip de Comynges." The dear old lady was near-sighted and was +slightly deaf. Dorothy's bedroom, like Lady Crawford's apartments, was in +deep shadow. In it there was no candle. + +My two fair friends were seated in one of the west windows watching the +sunset. They rose, and each gave me her hand and welcomed me with the rare +smiles I had learned to expect from them. I drew a chair near to the +window and we talked and laughed together merrily for a few minutes. After +a little time Dorothy excused herself, saying that she would leave Madge +and me while she went into the bedroom to make a change in her apparel. + +Madge and I sat for a few minutes at the window, and I said, "You have not +been out to-day for exercise." + +I had ridden to Derby with Sir George and had gone directly on my return +to see my two young friends. Sir George had not returned. + +"Will you walk with me about the room?" I asked. My real reason for making +the suggestion was that I longed to clasp her hand, and to feel its +velvety touch, since I should lead her if we walked. + +She quickly rose in answer to my invitation and offered me her hand. As we +walked to and fro a deep, sweet contentment filled my heart, and I felt +that any words my lips could coin would but mar the ineffable silence. + +Never shall I forget the soft light of that gloaming as the darkening red +rays of the sinking sun shot through the panelled window across the floor +and illumined the tapestry upon the opposite wall. + +The tapestries of Haddon Hall are among the most beautiful in England, and +the picture upon which the sun's rays fell was that of a lover kneeling at +the feet of his mistress. Madge and I passed and repassed the illumined +scene, and while it was softly fading into shadow a great flood of tender +love for the girl whose soft hand I held swept over my heart. It was the +noblest motive I had ever felt. + +Moved by an impulse I could not resist, I stopped in our walk, and falling +to my knee pressed her hand ardently to my lips. Madge did not withdraw +her hand, nor did she attempt to raise me. She stood in passive silence. +The sun's rays had risen as the sun had sunk, and the light was falling +like a holy radiance from the gates of paradise upon the girl's head. I +looked upward, and never in my eyes had woman's face appeared so fair and +saintlike. She seemed to see me and to feel the silent outpouring of my +affection. I rose to my feet, and clasping both her hands spoke only her +name "Madge." + +She answered simply, "Malcolm, is it possible?" And her face, illumined by +the sunlight and by the love-god, told me all else. Then I gently took her +to my arms and kissed her lips again and again and again, and Madge by no +sign nor gesture said me nay. She breathed a happy sigh, her head fell +upon my breast, and all else of good that the world could offer compared +with her was dross to me. + +We again took our places by the window, since now I might hold her hand +without an excuse. By the window we sat, speaking little, through the +happiest hour of my I life. How dearly do I love to write about it, and to +lave my soul in the sweet aromatic essence of its memory. But my +rhapsodies must have an end. + +When Dorothy left me with Madge at the window she entered her bedroom and +quickly arrayed herself in garments which were facsimiles of those I had +lent her. Then she put her feet into my boots and donned my hat and cloak. +She drew my gauntleted gloves over her hands, buckled my sword to her slim +waist, pulled down the broad rim of my soft beaver hat over her face, and +turned up the collar of my cloak. Then she adjusted about her chin and +upper lip a black chin beard and moustachio, which she had in some manner +contrived to make, and, in short, prepared to enact the role of Malcolm +Vernon before her watchful gaoler, Aunt Dorothy. + +While sitting silently with Madge I heard the clanking of my sword against +the oak floor in Dorothy's bedroom. I supposed she had been toying with it +and had let it fall. She was much of a child, and nothing could escape her +curiosity. Then I heard the door open into Aunt Dorothy's apartments. I +whispered to Madge requesting her to remain silently by the window, and +then I stepped softly over to the door leading into the bedroom. I +noiselessly opened the door and entered. From my dark hiding-place in +Dorothy's bedroom I witnessed a scene in Aunt Dorothy's room which filled +me with wonder and suppressed laughter. Striding about in the +shadow-darkened portions of Lady Crawford's apartment was my other self, +Malcolm No. 2, created from the flesh and substance of Dorothy Vernon. + +The sunlight was yet abroad, though into Lady Crawford's room its slanting +rays but dimly entered at that hour, and the apartment was in deep shadow, +save for the light of one flickering candle, close to the flame of which +the old lady was holding the pages of the book she was laboriously +perusing. + +The girl held her hand over her mouth trumpet-wise that her voice might be +deepened, and the swagger with which she strode about the room was the +most graceful and ludicrous movement I ever beheld. I wondered if she +thought she was imitating my walk, and I vowed that if her step were a +copy of mine, I would straightway amend my pace. + +"What do you read, Lady Crawford?" said my cloak and hat, in tones that +certainly were marvellously good imitations of my voice. + +"What do you say, Malcolm?" asked the deaf old lady, too gentle to show +the ill-humor she felt because of the interruption to her reading. + +"I asked what do you read?" repeated Dorothy. + +"The 'Chronicle of Sir Philip de Comynges,'" responded Lady Crawford. +"Have you read it? It is a rare and interesting history." + +"Ah, indeed, it is a rare book, a rare book. I have read it many times." +There was no need for that little fabrication, and it nearly brought +Dorothy into trouble. + +"What part of the 'Chronicle' do you best like?" asked Aunt Dorothy, +perhaps for lack of anything else to say. Here was trouble already for +Malcolm No. 2. + +"That is hard for me to say. I so well like it all. Perhaps--ah--perhaps I +prefer the--the ah--the middle portion." + +"Ah, you like that part which tells the story of Mary of Burgundy," +returned Aunt Dorothy. "Oh, Malcolm, I know upon what theme you are always +thinking--the ladies, the ladies." + +"Can the fair Lady Crawford chide me for that?" my second self responded +in a gallant style of which I was really proud. "She who has caused so +much of that sort of thought surely must know that a gentleman's mind +cannot be better employed than--" + +"Malcolm, you are incorrigible. But it is well for a gentleman to keep in +practice in such matters, even though he have but an old lady to practise +on." + +"They like it, even if it be only practice, don't they?" said Dorothy, +full of the spirit of mischief. + +"I thank you for nothing, Sir Malcolm Vernon," retorted Aunt Dorothy with +a toss of her head. "I surely don't value your practice, as you call it, +one little farthing's worth." + +But Malcolm No. 2, though mischievously inclined, was much quicker of wit +than Malcolm No. 1, and she easily extricated herself. + +"I meant that gentlemen like it, Lady Crawford." + +"Oh!" replied Lady Crawford, again taking up her book. "I have been +reading Sir Philip's account of the death of your fair Mary of Burgundy. +Do you remember the cause of her death?" + +Malcolm No. 2, who had read Sir Philip so many times, was compelled to +admit that he did not remember the cause of Mary's death. + +"You did not read the book with attention," replied Lady Crawford. "Sir +Philip says that Mary of Burgundy died from an excess of modesty." + +"That disease will never depopulate England," was the answer that came +from my garments, much to my chagrin. + +"Sir Malcolm," exclaimed the old lady, "I never before heard so ungallant +a speech from your lips."--"And," thought I, "she never will hear its like +from me." + +"Modesty," continued Lady Crawford, "may not be valued so highly by young +women nowadays as it was in the time of my youth, but--" + +"I am sure it is not," interrupted Dorothy. + +"But," continued Lady Crawford, "the young women of England are modest and +seemly in their conduct, and they do not deserve to be spoken of in +ungallant jest." + +I trembled lest Dorothy should ruin my reputation for gallantry. + +"Do you not," said Lady Crawford, "consider Dorothy and Madge to be +modest, well-behaved maidens?" + +"Madge! Ah, surely she is all that a maiden should be. She is a saint, but +as to Dorothy--well, my dear Lady Crawford, I predict another end for her +than death from modesty. I thank Heaven the disease in its mild form does +not kill. Dorothy has it mildly," then under her breath, "if at all." + +The girl's sense of humor had vanquished her caution, and for the moment +it caused her to forget even the reason for her disguise. + +"You do not speak fairly of your cousin Dorothy," retorted Lady Crawford. +"She is a modest girl, and I love her deeply." + +"Her father would not agree with you," replied Dorothy. + +"Perhaps not," responded the aunt. "Her father's conduct causes me great +pain and grief." + +"It also causes me pain," said Dorothy, sighing. + +"But, Malcolm," continued the old lady, putting down her book and turning +with quickened interest toward my other self, "who, suppose you, is the +man with whom Dorothy has become so strangely entangled?" + +"I cannot tell for the life of me," answered Malcolm No. 2. "Surely a +modest girl would not act as she does." + +"Surely a modest girl would," replied Aunt Dorothy, testily. "Malcolm, you +know nothing of women." + +"Spoken with truth," thought I. + +The old lady continued: "Modesty and love have nothing whatever to do with +each other. When love comes in at the door, modesty flies out at the +window. I do pity my niece with all my heart, and in good truth I wish I +could help her, though of course I would not have her know my feeling. I +feign severity toward her, but I do not hesitate to tell you that I am +greatly interested in her romance. She surely is deeply in love." + +"That is a true word, Aunt Dorothy," said the lovelorn young woman. "I am +sure she is fathoms deep in love." + +"Nothing," said Lady Crawford, "but a great passion would have impelled +her to act as she did. Why, even Mary of Burgundy, with all her modesty, +won the husband she wanted, ay, and had him at the cost of half her rich +domain." + +"I wonder if Dorothy will ever have the man she wants?" said Malcolm, +sighing in a manner entirely new to him. + +"No," answered the old lady, "I fear there is no hope for Dorothy. I +wonder who he is? Her father intends that she shall soon marry Lord +Stanley. Sir George told me as much this morning when he started for +Derby-town to arrange for the signing of the marriage contract within a +day or two. He had a talk yesterday with Dorothy. She, I believe, has +surrendered to the inevitable, and again there is good feeling between her +and my brother." + +Dorothy tossed her head expressively. + +"It is a good match," continued Lady Crawford, "a good match, Malcolm. I +pity Dorothy; but it is my duty to guard her, and I shall do it +faithfully." + +"My dear Lady Crawford," said my hat and cloak, "your words and feelings +do great credit to your heart. But have you ever thought that your niece +is a very wilful girl, and that she is full of disturbing expedients? Now +I am willing to wager my beard that she will, sooner than you suspect, see +her lover. And I am also willing to lay a wager that she will marry the +man of her choice despite all the watchfulness of her father and yourself. +Keep close guard over her, my lady, or she will escape." + +Lady Crawford laughed. "She shall not escape. Have no fear of that, +Malcolm. The key to the door is always safely locked in my reticule. No +girl can outwit me. I am too old to be caught unawares by a mere child +like Dorothy. It makes me laugh, Malcolm--although I am sore at heart for +Dorothy's sake--it makes me laugh, with a touch of tears, when I think of +poor simple Dorothy's many little artifices to gain possession of this +key. They are amusing and pathetic. Poor child! But I am too old to be +duped by a girl, Malcolm, I am too old. She has no chance to escape." + +I said to myself: "No one has ever become too old to be duped by a girl +who is in love. Her wits grow keen as the otter's fur grows thick for the +winter's need. I do not know your niece's plan; but if I mistake not, Aunt +Dorothy, you will in one respect, at least, soon be rejuvenated." + +"I am sure Lady Crawford is right in what she says," spoke my other self, +"and Sir George is fortunate in having for his daughter a guardian who +cannot be hoodwinked and who is true to a distasteful trust. I would the +trouble were over and that Dorothy were well married." + +"So wish I, Malcolm, with all my heart," replied Aunt Dorothy. + +After a brief pause in the conversation Malcolm No. 2 said:-- + +"I must now take my leave. Will you kindly unlock the door and permit me +to say good night?" + +"If you must go," answered my lady, glad enough to be left alone with her +beloved Sir Philip. Then she unlocked the door. + +"Keep good watch, my dear aunt," said Malcolm. "I greatly fear that +Dorothy--" but the door closed on the remainder of the sentence and on +Dorothy Vernon. + +"Nonsense!" ejaculated the old lady somewhat impatiently. "Why should he +fear for Dorothy? I hope I shall not again be disturbed." And soon she was +deep in the pages of her book. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A TRYST AT BOWLING GREEN GATE + + +I was at a loss what course to pursue, and I remained for a moment in +puzzling thought. I went back to Madge, and after closing the door, told +her of all I had seen. She could not advise me, and of course she was +deeply troubled and concerned. After deliberating, I determined to speak +to Aunt Dorothy that she might know what had happened. So I opened the +door and walked into Lady Crawford's presence. After viewing my lady's +back for a short time, I said:-- + +"I cannot find my hat, cloak, and sword. I left them in Dorothy's bedroom. +Has any one been here since I entered?" + +The old lady turned quickly upon me, "Since you entered?" she cried in +wonderment and consternation. "Since you left, you mean. Did you not leave +this room a few minutes ago? What means this? How found you entrance +without the key?" + +"I did not leave this room, Aunt Dorothy; you see I am here," I responded. + +"Who did leave? Your wraith? Some one--Dorothy!" screamed the old lady in +terror. "That girl!!--Holy Virgin! where is she?" + +Lady Crawford hastened to Dorothy's room and returned to me in great +agitation. + +"Were you in the plot?" she demanded angrily. + +"No more than were you, Lady Crawford," I replied, telling the exact +truth. If I were accessory to Dorothy's crime, it was only as a witness +and Aunt Dorothy had seen as much as I. + +I continued: "Dorothy left Lady Madge and me at the window, saying she +wished to make a change in her garments. I was watching the sunset and +talking with Lady Madge." + +Lady Crawford, being full of concern about the main event,--Dorothy's +escape,--was easily satisfied that I was not accessory before the fact. + +"What shall I do, Malcolm? What shall I do? Help me, quickly. My brother +will return in the morning--perhaps he will return to-night--and he will +not believe that I have not intentionally permitted Dorothy to leave the +Hall. I have of late said so much to him on behalf of the girl that he +suspects me already of being in sympathy with her. He will not believe me +when I tell him that I have been duped. The ungrateful, selfish girl! How +could she so unkindly return my affection!" + +The old lady began to weep. + +I did not believe that Dorothy intended to leave Haddon Hall permanently. +I felt confident she had gone out only to meet John, and was sure she +would soon return. On the strength of that opinion I said: "If you fear +that Sir George will not believe you--he certainly will blame you--would +it not be better to admit Dorothy quietly when she returns and say nothing +to any one concerning the escapade? I will remain here in these rooms, and +when she returns I will depart, and the guards will never suspect that +Dorothy has left the Hall." + +"If she will but return," wailed Aunt Dorothy, "I shall be only too glad +to admit her and to keep silent." + +"I am sure she will," I answered. "Leave orders with the guard at Sir +George's door to admit me at any time during the night, and Dorothy will +come in without being recognized. Her disguise must be very complete if +she could deceive you." + +"Indeed, her disguise is complete," replied the tearful old lady. + +Dorothy's disguise was so complete and her resemblance to me had been so +well contrived that she met with no opposition from the guards in the +retainer's room nor from the porter. She walked out upon the terrace where +she strolled for a short time. Then she climbed over the wall at the stile +back of the terrace and took her way up Bowling Green Hill toward the +gate. She sauntered leisurely until she was out of sight of the Hall. Then +gathering up her cloak and sword she sped along the steep path to the hill +crest and thence to the gate. + +Soon after the first day of her imprisonment she had sent a letter to John +by the hand of Jennie Faxton, acquainting him with the details of all that +had happened. In her letter, among much else, she said:-- + +"My true love, I beg you to haunt with your presence Bowling Green Gate +each day at the hour of sunset. I cannot tell you when I shall be there to +meet you, or surely I would do so now. But be there I will. Let no doubt +of that disturb your mind. It does not lie in the power of man to keep me +from you. That is, it lies in the power of but one man, you, my love and +my lord, and I fear not that you will use your power to that end. So it is +that I beg you to wait for me at sunset hour each day near by Bowling +Green Gate. You may be caused to wait for me a long weary time; but one +day, sooner or later, I shall go to you, and then--ah, then, if it be in +my power to reward your patience, you shall have no cause for complaint." + +When Dorothy reached the gate she found it securely locked. She peered +eagerly through the bars, hoping to see John. She tried to shake the +heavy iron structure to assure herself that it could not be opened. + +"Ah, well," she sighed, "I suppose the reason love laughs at locksmiths is +because he--or she--can climb." + +Then she climbed the gate and sprang to the ground on the Devonshire side +of the wall. + +"What will John think when he sees me in this attire?" she said half +aloud. "Malcolm's cloak serves but poorly to cover me, and I shall instead +be covered with shame and confusion when John comes. I fear he will think +I have disgraced myself." Then, with a sigh, "But necessity knows no +raiment." + +She strode about near the gate for a few minutes, wishing that she were +indeed a man, save for one fact: if she were not a woman, John would not +love her, and, above all, she could not love John. The fact that she could +and did love John appealed to Dorothy as the highest, sweetest privilege +that Heaven or earth could offer to a human being. + +The sun had sunk in the west, and his faint parting glory was but dimly to +be seen upon a few small clouds that floated above Overhaddon Hill. The +moon was past its half; and the stars, still yellow and pale from the +lingering glare of day, waited eagerly to give their twinkling help in +lighting the night. The forest near the gate was dense, and withal the +fading light of the sun and the dawning beams of the moon and stars, deep +shadow enveloped Dorothy and all the scene about her. The girl was +disappointed when she did not see Manners, but she was not vexed. There +was but one person in all the world toward whom she held a patient, humble +attitude--John. If he, in his greatness, goodness, and condescension, +deigned to come and meet so poor a person as Dorothy Vernon, she would be +thankful and happy; if he did not come, she would be sorrowful. His will +was her will, and she would come again and again until she should find +him waiting for her, and he should stoop to lift her into heaven. + +If there is a place in all the earth where red warm blood counts for its +full value, it is in a pure woman's veins. Through self-fear it brings to +her a proud reserve toward all mankind till the right one comes. Toward +him it brings an eager humbleness that is the essence and the life of +Heaven and of love. Poets may praise snowy women as they will, but the +compelling woman is she of the warm blood. The snowy woman is the lifeless +seed, the rainless cloud, the unmagnetic lodestone, the drossful iron. The +great laws of nature affect her but passively. If there is aught in the +saying of the ancients, "The best only in nature can survive," the day of +her extermination will come. Fire is as chaste as snow, and infinitely +more comforting. + +Dorothy's patience was not to be tried for long. Five minutes after she +had climbed the gate she beheld John riding toward her from the direction +of Rowsley, and her heart beat with thrill upon thrill of joy. She felt +that the crowning moment of her life was at hand. By the help of a subtle +sense--familiar spirit to her love perhaps--she knew that John would ask +her to go with him and to be his wife, despite all the Rutlands and +Vernons dead, living, or to be born. The thought of refusing him never +entered her mind. Queen Nature was on the throne in the fulness of power, +and Dorothy, in perfect attune with her great sovereign, was fulfilling +her destiny in accordance with the laws to which her drossless being was +entirely amenable. + +Many times had the fear come to her that Sir John Manners, who was heir to +the great earldom of Rutland,--he who was so great, so good, and so +beautiful,--might feel that his duty to his house past, present, and +future, and the obligations of his position among the grand nobles of the +realm, should deter him from a marriage against which so many good reasons +could be urged. But this evening her familiar spirit whispered to her that +she need not fear, and her heart was filled with joy and certainty. John +dismounted and tethered his horse at a short distance from the gate. He +approached Dorothy, but halted when he beheld a man instead of the girl +whom he longed to meet. His hesitancy surprised Dorothy, who, in her +eagerness, had forgotten her male attire. She soon saw, however, that he +did not recognize her, and she determined, in a spirit of mischief, to +maintain her incognito till he should penetrate her disguise. + +She turned her back on John and sauntered leisurely about, whistling +softly. She pretended to be unconscious of his presence, and John, who +felt that the field was his by the divine right of love, walked to the +gate and looked through the bars toward Bowling Green. He stood at the +gate for a short time with indifference in his manner and irritation in +his heart. He, too, tried to hum a tune, but failed. Then he tried to +whistle, but his musical efforts were abortive. There was no music in him. +A moment before his heart had been full of harmony; but when he found a +man instead of his sweetheart, the harmony quickly turned to rasping +discord. + +John was not a patient man, and his impatience was apt to take the form of +words and actions. A little aimless stalking about at the gate was more +than enough for him, so he stepped toward the intruder and lifted his hat. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, "I thought when first I saw you that you +were Sir Malcolm Vernon. I fancied you bore resemblance to him. I see that +I was in error." + +"Yes, in error," answered my beard. + +Again the two gentlemen walked around each other with great amusement on +the part of one, and with ever increasing vexation on the part of the +other. + +Soon John said, "May I ask whom have I the honor to address?" + +"Certainly, you may ask," was the response. + +A silence ensued during which Dorothy again turned her back on John and +walked a few paces away from him. John's patience was rapidly oozing, and +when the unknown intruder again turned in his direction, John said with +all the gentleness then at his command:-- + +"Well, sir, I do ask." + +"Your curiosity is flattering," said the girl. + +"Pardon me, sir," returned John. "My curiosity is not intended to be +flattering. I--" + +"I hope it is not intended to be insulting, sir?" asked my hat and cloak. + +"That, sir, all depends upon yourself," retorted John, warmly. Then after +an instant of thought, he continued in tones of conciliation:-- + +"I have an engagement of a private nature at this place. In short, I hope +to meet a--a friend here within a few minutes and I feel sure that under +the circumstances so gallant a gentleman as yourself will act with due +consideration for the feelings of another. I hope and believe that you +will do as you would be done by." + +"Certainly, certainly," responded the gallant. "I find no fault at all +with your presence. Please take no account whatever of me. I assure you I +shall not be in the least disturbed." + +John was somewhat disconcerted. + +"Perhaps you will not be disturbed," replied John, struggling to keep down +his temper, "but I fear you do not understand me. I hope to meet a--a lady +and--" + +"I hope also to meet a--a friend," the fellow said; "but I assure you we +shall in no way conflict." + +"May I ask," queried John, "if you expect to meet a gentleman or a lady?" + +"Certainly you may ask," was the girl's irritating reply. + +"Well, well, sir, I do ask," said John. "Furthermore, I demand to know +whom you expect to meet at this place." + +"That, of course, sir, is no business of yours." + +"But I shall make it my affair. I expect to meet a lady here, my +sweetheart." The girl's heart jumped with joy. "And if you have any of the +feelings of a gentleman, you must know that your presence will be +intolerable to me." + +"Perhaps it will be, my dear sir, but I have as good a right here as you +or any other. If you must know all about my affairs, I tell you I, too, +hope to meet my sweetheart at this place. In fact, I know I shall meet my +sweetheart, and, my good fellow, I beg to inform you that a stranger's +presence would be very annoying to me." + +John was at his wit's end. He must quickly do or say something to persuade +this stubborn fellow to leave. If Dorothy should come and see two persons +at the gate she, of course, would return to the Hall. Jennie Faxton, who +knew that the garments were finished, had told Sir John that he might +reasonably expect to see Dorothy at the gate on that evening, for Sir +George had gone to Derby-town, presumably to remain over night. + +In sheer desperation John said, "I was here first, and I claim the +ground." + +"That is not true," replied the other. "I have been waiting here for +you--I mean for the person I am to meet--" Dorothy thought she had +betrayed herself, and that John would surely recognize her. "I had been +waiting full five minutes before you arrived." + +John's blindness in failing to recognize Dorothy is past my understanding. +He explained it to me afterward by saying that his eagerness to see +Dorothy, and his fear, nay almost certainty, that she could not come, +coupled with the hope which Jennie Faxton had given him, had so completely +occupied his mind that other subjects received but slight consideration. + +"But I--I have been here before this night to meet--" + +"And I have been here to meet--quite as often as you, I hope," retorted +Dorothy. + +They say that love blinds a man. It must also have deafened John, since he +did not recognize his sweetheart's voice. + +"It may be true that you have been here before this evening," retorted +John, angrily; "but you shall not remain here now. If you wish to save +yourself trouble, leave at once. If you stalk about in the forest, I will +run you through and leave you for the crows to pick." + +"I have no intention of leaving, and if I were to do so you would regret +it; by my beard, you would regret it," answered the girl, pleased to see +John in his overbearing, commanding mood. His stupidity was past +comprehension. + +"Defend yourself," said John, drawing his sword. + +"Now he will surely know the truth," thought Dorothy, but she said: "I am +much younger than you, and am not so large and strong. I am unskilled in +the use of a sword, and therefore am I no match for Sir John Manners than +whom, I have heard, there is no better swordsman, stronger arm, nor braver +heart in England." + +"You flatter me, my friend," returned John, forced into a good humor +against his will; "but you must leave. He who cannot defend himself must +yield; it is the law of nature and of men." + +John advanced toward Dorothy, who retreated stepping backward, holding her +arm over her face. + +"I am ready to yield if you wish. In fact, I am eager to yield--more eager +than you can know," she cried. + +"It is well," answered John, putting his sword in sheath. + +"But," continued Dorothy, "I will not go away." + +"Then you must fight," said John. + +"I tell you again I am willing, nay, eager to yield to you, but I also +tell you I cannot fight in the way you would have me. In other ways +perhaps I can fight quite as well as anybody. But really, I am ashamed to +draw my sword, since to do so would show you how poorly I am equipped to +defend myself under your great laws of nature and of man. Again, I wish to +assure you that I am more than eager to yield; but I cannot fight you, and +I will not go away." + +The wonder never ceases that John did not recognize her. She took no pains +to hide her identity, and after a few moments of concealment she was +anxious that John should discover her under my garments. + +"I would know his voice," she thought, "did he wear all the petticoats in +Derbyshire." + +"What shall I do with you?" cried John, amused and irritated. "I cannot +strike you." + +"No, of course you would not murder me in cold blood," answered Dorothy, +laughing heartily. She was sure her laughter would open John's eyes. + +"I cannot carry you away," said John. + +"I would come back again, if you did," answered the irrepressible fellow. + +"I suppose you would," returned John, sullenly. "In the devil's name, tell +me what you will do. Can I not beg you to go?" + +"Now, Sir John, you have touched me. I make you this offer: you expect +Mistress Vernon to come from the Hall--" + +"What do you know about Mistress Vernon?" cried John. "By God, I will--" + +"Now don't grow angry, Sir John, and please don't swear in my presence. +You expect her, I say, to come from the Hall. What I propose is this: you +shall stand by the gate and watch for Doll--oh, I mean Mistress +Vernon--and I will stand here behind the wall where she cannot see me. +When she comes in sight--though in truth I don't think she will come, and +I believe were she under your very nose you would not see her--you shall +tell me and I will leave at once; that is, if you wish me to leave. After +you see Dorothy Vernon if you still wish me to go, I pledge my faith no +power can keep me. Now is not that fair? I like you very much, and I want +to remain here, if you will permit me, and talk to you for a little +time--till you see Doll Vernon." + +"Doll Vernon, fellow? How dare you so speak of her?" demanded John, hotly. + +"Your pardon and her pardon, I beg; Mistress Vernon, soon to be Countess +of Derbyshire. By the way, I wager you a gold pound sterling that by the +time you see Doll Vernon--Mistress Vernon, I pray your pardon--you will +have grown so fond of me that you will not permit me to leave you." She +thought after that speech he could not help but know her; but John's skull +was like an oaken board that night. Nothing could penetrate it. He began +to fancy that his companion was a simple witless person who had escaped +from his keepers. + +"Will you take the wager?" asked Dorothy. + +"Nonsense!" was the only reply John deigned to give to so foolish a +proposition. + +"Then will you agree that I shall remain at the gate till Doll--Mistress +Vernon comes?" + +"I suppose I shall have to make the best terms possible with you," he +returned. "You are an amusing fellow and as perverse as a woman." + +"I knew you would soon learn to like me," she responded. "The first step +toward a man's affection is to amuse him. That old saw which says the road +to a man's heart is through his stomach, is a sad mistake. Amusement is +the highway to a man's affections." + +"It is better that one laugh with us than at us. There is a vast +difference in the two methods," answered John, contemptuously. + +"You dare to laugh at me," cried Dorothy, grasping the hilt of her sword, +and pretending to be angry. John waved her off with his hand, and +laughingly said, "Little you know concerning the way to a man's heart, and +no doubt less of the way to a woman's." + +"I, perhaps, know more about it than you would believe," returned Malcolm +No. 2. + +"If you know aught of the latter subject, it is more than I would +suppose," said John. "It is absurd to say that a woman can love a man who +is unable to defend himself." + +"A vain man thinks that women care only for men of his own pattern," +retorted Dorothy. "Women love a strong arm, it is true, but they also love +a strong heart, and you see I am not at all afraid of you, even though you +have twice my strength. There are as many sorts of bravery, Sir John, +as--as there are hairs in my beard." + +"That is not many," interrupted John. + +"And," continued the girl, "I believe, John,--Sir John,--you possess all +the kinds of bravery that are good." + +"You flatter me," said John. + +"Yes," returned Dorothy, "that was my intent." + +After that unflattering remark there came a pause. Then the girl continued +somewhat hesitatingly: "Doubtless many women, Sir John, have seen your +virtues more clearly than even I see them. Women have a keener perception +of masculine virtues than--than we have." + +Dorothy paused, and her heart beat with a quickened throb while she +awaited his reply. A new field of discovery was opening up to her and a +new use for her disguise. + +John made no reply, but the persistent girl pursued her new line of +attack. + +[Illustration] + +"Surely Sir John Manners has had many sweethearts," said Dorothy, in +flattering tones. There were rocks and shoals ahead for John's love barge. +"Many, many, I am sure," the girl persisted. + +"Ah, a few, a few, I admit," John like a fool replied. Dorothy was +accumulating disagreeable information rapidly. + +"While you were at London court," said she, "the fine ladies must have +sought you in great numbers--I am sure they did." + +"Perhaps, oh, perhaps," returned John. "One cannot always remember such +affairs." His craft was headed for the rocks. Had he observed Dorothy's +face, he would have seen the storm a-brewing. + +"To how many women, Sir John, have you lost your heart, and at various +times how many have lost their hearts to you?" asked the persistent +girl.--"What a senseless question," returned John. "A dozen times or more; +perhaps a score or two score times. I cannot tell the exact number. I did +not keep an account." + +Dorothy did not know whether she wanted to weep or be angry. Pique and a +flash of temper, however, saved her from tears, and she said, "You are so +brave and handsome that you must have found it a very easy task--much +easier than it would be for me--to convince those confiding ones of your +affection?" + +"Yes," replied John, plunging full sail upon the breakers, "I admit that +usually they have been quite easy to convince. I am naturally bold, and I +suppose that perhaps--that is, I may possibly have a persuasive trick +about me." + +Shades of good men who have blundered into ruin over the path of petty +vanity, save this man! But no, Dorothy must drink the bitter cup of +knowledge to the dregs. + +"And you have been false to all of these women? she said. + +"Ah, well, you know--the devil take it! A man can't be true to a score of +women," replied John. + +"I am sure none of them wished you to be true," the girl answered, +restraining her tears with great difficulty. + +At that point in the conversation John began to suspect from the manner +and shapeliness of his companion that a woman had disguised herself in +man's attire. Yet it did not once occur to him that Dorothy's fair form +was concealed within the disguise. He attempted to lift my soft beaver +hat, the broad rim of which hid Dorothy's face, but to that she made a +decided objection, and John continued: "By my soul I believe you are a +woman. Your walk"--Dorothy thought she had been swaggering like a +veritable swash-buckler--"your voice, the curves of your form, all betray +you." Dorothy gathered the cloak closely about her. + +"I would know more of you," said John, and he stepped toward the now +interesting stranger. But she drew away from him, and told him to keep +hands off. + +"Oh, I am right. You are a woman," said John. + +Dorothy had maintained the disguise longer than she wished, and was +willing that John should discover her identity. At first it had been rare +sport to dupe him; but the latter part of her conversation had given her +no pleasure. She was angry, jealous, and hurt by what she had learned. + +"Yes," she answered, "I admit that I am a--a woman. Now I must go." + +"Stay but one moment," pleaded John, whose curiosity and gallantry were +aroused. "I will watch for Mistress Vernon, and when she appears, then you +may go." + +"I told you that you would want me to remain," said the girl with a sigh. +She was almost ready to weep. Then she thought: "I little dreamed I was +coming here for this. I will carry the disguise a little farther, and +will, perhaps, learn enough to--to break my heart." + +She was soon to learn all she wanted to know and a great deal more. + +"Come sit by me on this stone," said John, coaxingly. The girl complied, +and drew the cloak over her knees. + +"Tell me why you are here," he asked. + +"To meet a gentleman," she replied, with low-bent face. + +"Tell me your name," John asked, as he drew my glove from her passive +hand. John held the hand in his, and after examining it in the dim light +saw that it was a great deal more than good to look upon. Then he lifted +it to his lips and said: + +"Since our sweethearts have disappointed us, may we not console ourselves +with each other?" He placed his arm around the girl's waist and drew her +yielding form toward him. Dorothy, unobserved by John, removed the false +beard and moustachio, and when John put his arm about her waist and leaned +forward to kiss the fair accommodating neighbor she could restrain her +tears no longer and said:-- + +"That would be no consolation for me, John; that would be no consolation +for me. How can you? How can you?" + +She rose to her feet and covered her face with her hands in a paroxysm of +weeping. John, too, sprang to his feet, you may be sure. "Dorothy! God +help me! I am the king of fools. Curse this hour in which I have thrown +away my heaven. You must hate and despise me, fool, fool that I am." + +John knew that it were worse than useless for him to attempt an +explanation. The first thought that flashed through his mind was, to tell +the girl that he had only pretended not to know her. He thought he would +try to make her believe that he had been turning her trick upon herself; +but he was wise in his day and generation, and did not seek refuge in that +falsehood. + +The girl would never have forgiven him for that. + +"The only amends I can make," he said, in very dolefulness, "is that I may +never let you see my face again." + +"That will not help matters," sobbed Dorothy. + +"I know it will not," returned John. "Nothing can help me. I can remain +here no longer. I must leave you. I cannot even ask you to say farewell. +Mistress Vernon, you do not despise me half so bitterly as I despise +myself." + +Dorothy was one of those rare natures to whom love comes but once. It had +come to her and had engulfed her whole being. To part with it would be +like parting with life itself. It was her tyrant, her master. It was her +ego. She could no more throw it off than she could expel herself from her +own existence. All this she knew full well, for she had analyzed her +conditions, and her reason had joined with all her other faculties in +giving her a clear concept of the truth. She knew she belonged to John +Manners for life and for eternity. She also knew that the chance of seeing +him soon again was very slight, and to part from him now in aught but +kindness would almost kill her. + +Before John had recognized Dorothy he certainly had acted like a fool, but +with the shock of recognition came wisdom. All the learning of the +ancients and all the cunning of the prince of darkness could not have +taught him a wiser word with which to make his peace, "I may never let you +see my face again." That was more to be feared by Dorothy than even John's +inconstancy. + +Her heart was full of trouble. "I do not know what I wish," she said +simply. "Give me a little time to think." + +John's heart leaped with joy, but he remained silent. + +Dorothy continued: "Oh, that I had remained at home. I would to God I had +never seen Derby-town nor you." + +John in the fulness of his wisdom did not interrupt her. + +"To think that I have thus made a fool of myself about a man who has +given his heart to a score of women." + +"This is torture," moaned John, in real pain. + +"But," continued Dorothy, "I could not remain away from this place when I +had the opportunity to come to you. I felt that I must come. I felt that I +should die if I did not. And you are so false. I wish I were dead. A +moment ago, had I been another woman, you would have kissed her. You +thought I was another woman." + +John's wisdom stood by him nobly. He knew he could neither explain +successfully nor beg forgiveness. He simply said: "I cannot remain and +look you in the face. If I dare make any request, it is that despite all +you have heard from my lips you will still believe that I love you, and +that in all my life I have never loved any one so dearly. There is no +other woman for me." + +"You doubtless spoke the same false words to the other two score women," +said Dorothy. Tears and sobs were playing sad havoc with her powers of +speech. + +"Farewell, Mistress Vernon," replied John. "I should be shameless if I +dared ask you to believe any word I can utter. Forget, if possible, that I +ever existed; forget me that you may not despise me. I am unworthy to +dwell even in the smallest of your thoughts. I am altogether base and +contemptible." + +"N-o-o," sighed Dorothy, poutingly, while she bent low her head and toyed +with the gold lace of my cloak. + +"Farewell," said John. He took a step or two backward from her. + +"You are over-eager to leave, it seems to me," said the girl in an injured +tone. "I wonder that you came at all." John's heart was singing hosanna. +He, however, maintained his voice at a mournful pitch and said: "I must +go. I can no longer endure to remain." While he spoke he moved toward his +horse, and his head was bowed with real shame as he thought of the +pitiable fool he had made of himself. Dorothy saw him going from her, and +she called to him softly and reluctantly, "John." + +He did not hear her, or perhaps he thought best to pretend that he did not +hear, and as he moved from her the girl became desperate. Modesty, +resentment, insulted womanhood and injured pride were all swept away by +the stream of her mighty love, and she cried again, this time without +hesitancy or reluctance, "John, John." She started to run toward him, but +my cloak was in her way, and the sword tripped her feet. In her fear lest +John might leave her, she unclasped the sword-belt from her waist and +snatched the cloak from her shoulders. Freed from these hindrances, she +ran toward John. + +"John, do not leave me. Do not leave me." As she spoke, she reached an +open space among the trees and John turned toward her. Her hat had fallen +off, and the red golden threads of her hair, freed from their fastenings, +streamed behind her. Never before had a vision of such exquisite +loveliness sped through the moonbeams. So entrancing was her beauty to +John that he stood motionless in admiration. He did not go to meet her as +he should have done, and perhaps as he would have done had his senses not +been wrapped in benumbing wonderment. His eyes were unable to interpret to +his brain all her marvellous beauty, and his other senses abandoning their +proper functions had hastened to the assistance of his sight He saw, he +heard, he felt her loveliness. Thus occupied he did not move, so Dorothy +ran to him and fell upon his breast. + +"You did not come to meet me," she sobbed. "You made me come all the way, +to forgive you. Cruel, cruel!" + +John held the girl in his arms, but he did not dare to kiss her, and his +self-denial soon brought its reward. He had not expected that she would +come a beggar to him. The most he had dared to hope was that she would +listen to his prayer for forgiveness. With all his worldly wisdom John had +not learned the fact that inconstancy does not destroy love in the one who +suffers by reason of it; nor did he know of the exquisite pain-touched +happiness which comes to a gentle, passionate heart such as Dorothy's from +the mere act of forgiving. + +"Is it possible you can forgive me for the miserable lies I have uttered?" +asked John, almost unconscious of the words he was speaking. "Is it +possible you can forgive me for uttering those lies, Dorothy?" he +repeated. + +She laid her head upon his breast, and softly passing her hand over the +lace of his doublet, whispered:-- + +"If I could believe they were lies, I could easily forgive you," she +answered between low sobs and soft sighs. Though she was a woman, the +sweet essence of childhood was in her heart. + +"But you cannot believe me, even when I tell you that I spoke not the +truth," answered John, with growing faith in his system of passive +repentance. Again came the sighs, and a few struggling, childish sobs. + +"It is easy for us to believe that which we long to believe," she said. +Then she turned her face upward to him, and John's reward was altogether +disproportioned to the self-denial he had exercised a few minutes before. +She rewarded him far beyond his deserts; and after a pause she said +mischievously:-- + +"You told me that you were a bold man with women, and I know that at least +that part of what you said was untrue, for you are a bashful man, John, +you are downright bashful. It is I who have been bold. You were too timid +to woo me, and I so longed for you that I--I--was not timid." + +"For God's sake, Dorothy, I beg you to have pity and to make no jest of +me. Your kindness almost kills me, and your ridicule--" + +"There, there, John," whispered the girl, "I will never again make a jest +of you if it gives you pain. Tell me, John, tell me truly, was it all +false--that which you told me about the other women?" + +There had been more truth in John's bragging than he cared to confess. He +feared and loathed a lie; so he said evasively, but with perfect truth:-- + +"You must know, my goddess. If you do not know without the telling that I +love you with all my being; if you do not know that there is for me and +ever will be no woman but you in all the world; if you do not know that +you have stolen my soul and that I live only in your presence, all that I +can say will avail nothing toward convincing you. I am almost crazed with +love for you, and with pain and torture. For the love of God let me leave +you that I may hide my face." + +"Never," cried the girl, clasping her hands about his neck and pressing +her lips gently upon his. "Never. There, that will soothe you, won't it, +John?" + +It did soothe him, and in the next moment, John, almost frenzied with joy, +hurt the girl by the violence of his embraces; but she, woman-like, found +her heaven in the pain. + +They went back to the stone bench beside the gate, and after a little time +Dorothy said:-- + +"But tell me, John, would you have kissed the other woman? Would you +really have done it?" + +John's honesty certainly was good policy in that instance. The adroit girl +had set a trap for him. + +"I suppose I would," answered John, with a groan. + +"It hurts me to hear the fact," said Dorothy, sighing; "but it pleases me +to hear the truth. I know all else you tell me is true. I was trying you +when I asked the question, for I certainly knew what you intended to do. A +woman instinctively knows when a man is going to--to--when anything of +that sort is about to happen." + +"How does she know?" asked John. + +Rocks and breakers ahead for Dorothy. + +"I cannot tell you," replied the girl, naïvely, "but she knows." + +"Perhaps it is the awakened desire in her own heart which forewarns her," +said John, stealthily seeking from Dorothy a truth that would pain him +should he learn it. + +"I suppose that is partly the source of her knowledge," replied the +knowing one, with a great show of innocence in her manner. John was in no +position to ask impertinent questions, nor had he any right to grow angry +at unpleasant discoveries; but he did both, although for a time he +suppressed the latter. + +"You believe she is sure to know, do you?" he asked. + +"Usually," she replied. "Of course there are times when--when it happens +so suddenly that--" + +John angrily sprang to his feet, took a few hurried steps in front of +Dorothy, who remained demurely seated with her eyes cast down, and then +again he took his place beside her on the stone bench. He was trembling +with anger and jealousy. The devil was in the girl that night for +mischief. + +"I suppose you speak from the fulness of your experience," demanded John, +in tones that would have been insulting had they not been pleasing to the +girl. She had seen the drift of John's questions at an early stage of the +conversation, and his easily aroused jealousy was good proof to her of his +affection. After all, she was in no danger from rocks and breakers. She +well knew the currents, eddies, rocks, and shoals of the sea she was +navigating, although she had never before sailed it. Her fore-mothers, all +the way back to Eve, had been making charts of those particular waters for +her especial benefit. Why do we, a slow-moving, cumbersome army of men, +continue to do battle with the foe at whose hands defeat is always our +portion? + +"Experience?" queried Dorothy, her head turned to one side in a +half-contemplative attitude. "Experience? Of course that is the only way +we learn anything." + +John again sprang to his feet, and again he sat down beside the girl. He +had so recently received forgiveness for his own sins that he dared not be +unforgiving toward Dorothy. He did not speak, and she remained silent, +willing to allow time for the situation to take its full effect. The +wisdom of the serpent is black ignorance compared with the cunning of a +girl in Dorothy's situation. God gives her wit for the occasion as He +gives the cat soft paws, sharp claws, and nimbleness. She was teaching +John a lesson he would never forget. She was binding him to her with hoops +of steel. + +"I know that I have not the right to ask," said John, suppressing his +emotions, "but may I know merely as a matter of trivial information--may I +know the name of--of the person--this fellow with whom you have had so +full an experience? God curse him! Tell me his name." He caught the girl +violently by both arms as if he would shake the truth out of her. He was +unconsciously making full amends for the faults he had committed earlier +in the evening. The girl made no answer. John's powers of self-restraint, +which were not of the strongest order, were exhausted, and he again sprang +to his feet and stood towering before her in a passion. "Tell me his +name," he said hoarsely. "I demand it. I will not rest till I kill him." + +"If you would kill him, I surely will not tell you his name. In truth, I +admit I am very fond of him." + +"Speak not another word to me till you tell me his name," stormed John. I +feel sorry for John when I think of the part he played in this interview; +but every man knows well his condition. + +"I care not," continued John, "in what manner I have offended you, nor +does my debt of gratitude to you for your generosity in forgiving my sins +weigh one scruple against this you have told me. No man, unless he were a +poor clown, would endure it; and I tell you now, with all my love for you, +I will not--I will not!" + +Dorothy was beginning to fear him. She of course did not fear personal +violence; but after all, while he was slower than she, he was much +stronger every way, and when aroused, his strength imposed itself upon her +and she feared to play him any farther. + +"Sit beside me, John, and I will tell you his name," said the girl, +looking up to him, and then casting down her eyes. A dimpling smile was +playing about her lips. + +"No, I will not sit by you," replied John, angrily. She partly rose, and +taking him by the arm drew him to her side. + +"Tell me his name," again demanded John, sitting rigidly by Dorothy. "Tell +me his name." + +"Will you kill him?" she asked. + +"That I will," he answered. "Of that you may rest assured." + +"If you kill him, John, it will break my heart; for to do so, you must +commit suicide. There is no other man but you, John. With you I had my +first, last, and only experience." + +John, of course, was speechless. He had received only what he deserved. I +freely admit he played the part of a fool during this entire interview +with Dorothy, and he was more fully convinced of the fact than either you +or I can be. I do not like to have a fool for the hero of my history; but +this being a history and not a romance, I must tell you of events just as +they happened, and of persons exactly as they were, else my conscience +will smite me for untruthfulness. Dorothy's last assault was too much for +John. He could neither parry nor thrust. + +Her heart was full of mirth and gladness. + +"None other but you, John," she repeated, leaning forward in front of him, +and looking up into his eyes. A ray of moonlight stealing its way between +the forest boughs fell upon her upturned face and caused it to glow with a +goddess-like radiance. + +"None but you, John. There never has been and there never shall be +another." + +When John's consciousness returned he said, "Dorothy, can you love such a +fool as I?" + +"That I can and that I do with all my heart," she returned. + +"And can you forgive me for this last fault--for doubting you?" + +"That is easily done," she answered softly, "because doubt is the child of +love." + +"But you do not doubt me?" he replied. + +"N-o-o," she answered somewhat haltingly; "but I--I am a woman." + +"And a woman's heart is the home of faith," said John, reverentially. + +"Y-e-s," she responded, still not quite sure of her ground. "Sometimes it +is the home of too much faith, but faith, like virtue, is its own reward. +Few persons are false to one who gives a blind, unquestioning faith. Even +a poor degree of honor responds to it in kind." + +"Dorothy, I am so unworthy of you that I stand abashed in your presence," +replied John. + +"No, you are not unworthy of me. We don't look for unmixed good in men," +said the girl with a mischievous little laugh. Then seriously: "Those +virtues you have are so great and so strong, John, that my poor little +virtues, while they perhaps are more numerous than yours, are but weak +things by comparison. In truth, there are some faults in men which we +women do not--do not altogether dislike. They cause us--they make us--oh, +I cannot express exactly what I mean. They make us more eager perhaps. A +too constant man is like an overstrong sweet: he cloys us. The faults I +speak of hurt us; but we thrive on them. Women enjoy pain now and then. +Malcolm was telling me the other day that the wise people of the East have +a saying: 'Without shadow there can be no light; without death there can +be no life; without suffering there can be no joy.' Surely is that saying +true of women. She who suffers naught enjoys naught. When a woman becomes +passive, John, she is but a clod. Pain gives us a vent--a vent for +something, I know not what it is; but this I know, we are happier for it." + +"I fear, Dorothy, that I have given you too much 'vent,' as you call it," +said John. + +"No, no," she replied. "That was nothing. My great vent is that I can pour +out my love upon you, John, without stint. Now that I know you are mine, I +have some one whom I can deluge with it. Do you know, John, I believe that +when God made me He collected together the requisite portions of reason, +imagination, and will,--there was a great plenty of will, John,--and all +the other ingredients that go to make a human being. But after He had +gotten them all together there was still a great space left to be filled, +and He just threw in an immensity of love with which to complete me. +Therefore, John, am I not in true proportion. There is too much love in +me, and it wells up at times and overflows my heart. How thankful I should +be that I may pour it upon you and that it will not be wasted. How good +you are to give me the sweet privilege." + +"How thankful should I be, Dorothy. I have never known you till this +night. I am unworthy--" + +"Not another word of that sort, John," she interrupted, covering his mouth +with her hand. + +They stood for a long time talking a deal of celestial nonsense which I +shall not give you. I fear I have already given you too much of what John +and Dorothy did and said in this very sentimental interview. But in no +other way can I so well make you to know the persons of whom I write. I +might have said Dorothy was so and so, and John was such and such. I might +have analyzed them in long, dull pages of minute description; but it is +that which persons do and say that gives us true concept of their +characters; what others say about them is little else than a mere +statement that black is black and white is white. But to my story again. + +Dorothy by her beauty had won John's admiration when first he beheld her. +When he met her afterward, her charms of mind and her thousand winsome +ways moved him deeply. But upon the evening of which I am now telling you +he beheld for the first time her grand burning soul, and he saw her pure +heart filled to overflowing with its dangerous burden of love, right from +the hands of God Himself, as the girl had said. John was of a coarser +fibre than she who had put him up for her idol; but his sensibilities were +keen, and at their awakening he saw clearly the worth of the priceless +treasure which propitious fate had given him in the love of Dorothy, and +he sat humbly at her feet. Yet she knew it not, but sat humbly at John's +feet the happiest woman in all the world because of her great good fortune +in having a demi-god upon whom she could lavish the untold wealth of her +heart. If you are a woman, pray God that He may touch your eyes with +Dorothy's blessed blindness. There is a heaven in the dark for you, if you +can find it. + +I must leave the scene, though I am loath to do so. Seldom do we catch a +glimpse of a human soul, and more seldom still does it show itself like a +gust of God's breath upon the deep of eternity as it did that night in +Dorothy. + +After a time John said: "I have your promise to be my wife. Do you still +wish to keep it?" + +"What an absurd question, John," replied the girl, laughing softly and +contentedly. "Why else am I here? Tell me, think you, John, should I be +here if I were not willing and eager to--to keep that promise?" + +"Will you go with me notwithstanding your father's hatred of my house?" he +asked. + +"Ah, truly that I will, John," she answered; "surely you know I will go +with you." + +"Let us go at once. Let us lose not a moment. We have already delayed too +long," cried John in eager ecstasy. + +"Not to-night, John; I cannot go to-night," she pleaded. "Think of my +attire," and she drew my cloak more closely about her. "I cannot go with +you this time. My father is angry with me because of you, although he does +not know who you are. Is it not famous to have a lover in secret of whom +nobody knows? Father is angry with me, and as I told you in my letter, he +keeps me a prisoner in my rooms. Aunt Dorothy stands guard over me. The +dear, simple old soul! She told me, thinking I was Malcolm, that she was +too old to be duped by a girl! Oh, it was too comical!" And she threw back +her head and gave forth a peal of laughter that John was reluctantly +compelled to silence. "I would so delight to tell you of the scene when I +was in Aunt Dorothy's room impersonating Malcolm; but I have so much else +to say of more importance that I know I shall not tell the half. When you +have left me, I shall remember what I most wished to say but forgot." + +"No, John," she continued seriously, "my father has been cruel to me, and +I try to make myself think I do not love him; but I fail, for I do love +him." Tears were welling up in her eyes and stifling her voice. In a +moment she continued: "It would kill him, John, were I to go with you +now. I _will_ go with you soon,--I give you my solemn promise to that--but +I cannot go now,--not now. I cannot leave him and the others. With all his +cruelty to me, I love him, John, next to you. He will not come to see me +nor will he speak to me. Think of that." The tears that had welled up to +her eyes fell in a piteous stream over her cheeks. "Aunt Dorothy and +Madge," she continued, "are so dear to me that the thought of leaving them +is torture. But I will go with you some day, John, some day soon, I +promise you. They have always been kind and gentle to me, and I love them +and my father and my dear home where I was born and where my sweet mother +died--and Dolcy--I love them all so dearly that I must prepare myself to +leave them, John, even to go with you. The heart strings of my whole life +bind me to them. Forgive me, John, forgive me. You must think of the grief +and pain I shall yet pass through to go to you. It is as I told you: we +women reach heaven only through purgatory. I must forsake all else I love +when I go to you. All, all! All that has been dear to me in life I must +forsake for--for that which is dearer to me than life itself. I promise, +John, to go with you, but--but forgive me. I cannot go to-night." + +"Nor can I ask it of you, Dorothy," said John. "The sacrifice would be all +on one side. I should forego nothing, and I should receive all. You would +forego everything, and God help me, you would receive nothing worth +having. I am unworthy--" + +"Not that word, John," cried Dorothy, again covering his mouth with--well, +not with her hand. "I shall give up a great deal," she continued, "and I +know I shall suffer. I suffer even now when I think of it, for you must +remember that I am rooted to my home and to the dear ones it shelters; but +I will soon make the exchange, John; I shall make it gladly when the time +comes, because--because I feel that I could not live if I did not make +it." + +"My father has already consented to our marriage," said John. "I told him +to-day all that had passed between you and me. He, of course, was greatly +pained at first; but when I told him of your perfections, he said that if +you and I were dear to each other, he would offer no opposition, but would +welcome you to his heart." + +"Is your father that--that sort of a man?" asked Dorothy, half in revery. +"I have always heard--" and she hesitated. + +"I know," replied John, "that you have heard much evil of my father, +but--let us not talk on that theme. You will know him some day, and you +may judge him for yourself. When will you go with me, Dorothy?" + +"Soon, very soon, John," she answered. "You know father intends that I +shall marry Lord Stanley. _I_ intend otherwise. The more father hurries +this marriage with my beautiful cousin the sooner I shall be--be +your--that is, you know, the sooner I shall go with you." + +"You will not allow your father to force you to marry Lord Stanley?" asked +John, frightened by the thought. + +"Ah," cried the girl, softly, "you know I told you that God had put into +me a great plenty of will. Father calls it wilfulness; but whichever it +is, it stands me in good hand now. You don't know how much I have of it! +You never will know until I am your--your--wife." The last word was spoken +in a soft, hesitating whisper, and her head sought shamefaced refuge on +John's breast. Of course the magic word "wife" on Dorothy's lips aroused +John to action, and--but a cloud at that moment passed over the moon and +kindly obscured the scene. + +"You do not blame me, John," said Dorothy, "because I cannot go with you +to-night? You do not blame me?" + +"Indeed I do not, my goddess," answered John. "You will soon be mine. I +shall await your pleasure and your own time, and when you choose to come +to me--ah, then--" And the kindly cloud came back to the moon. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THOMAS THE MAN SERVANT + + +After a great effort of self-denial John told Dorothy it was time for her +to return to the Hall, and he walked with her down Bowling Green Hill to +the wall back of the terrace garden. + +Dorothy stood for a moment on the stile at the old stone wall, and John, +clasping her hand, said:-- + +"You will perhaps see me sooner than you expect," and then the cloud +considerately floated over the moon again, and John hurried away up +Bowling Green Hill. + +Dorothy crossed the terrace garden, going toward the door since known as +"Dorothy's Postern." She had reached the top of the postern steps when she +heard her father's voice, beyond the north wall of the terrace garden well +up toward Bowling Green Hill. John, she knew, was at that moment climbing +the hill. Immediately following the sound of her father's voice she heard +another voice--that of her father's retainer, Sir John Guild. Then came +the word "Halt!" quickly followed by the report of a fusil, and the sharp +clinking of swords upon the hillside. She ran back to the wall, and saw +the dimly outlined forms of four men. One of them was John, who was +retreating up the hill. The others were following him. Sir George and Sir +John Guild had unexpectedly returned from Derby. They had left their +horses with the stable boys and were walking toward the kitchen door when +Sir George noticed a man pass from behind the corner of the terrace +garden wall and proceed up Bowling Green Hill. The man of course was John. +Immediately Sir George and Guild, accompanied by a servant who was with +them, started in pursuit of the intruder, and a moment afterward Dorothy +heard her father's voice and the discharge of the fusil. She climbed to +the top of the stile, filled with an agony of fear. Sir George was fifteen +or twenty yards in advance of his companion, and when John saw that his +pursuers were attacking him singly, he turned and quickly ran back to meet +the warlike King of the Peak. By a few adroit turns with his sword John +disarmed his antagonist, and rushing in upon him easily threw him to the +ground by a wrestler's trick. Guild and the servant by that time were +within six yards of Sir George and John. + +"Stop!" cried Manners, "your master is on the ground at my feet. My sword +point is at his heart. Make but one step toward me and Sir George Vernon +will be a dead man." + +Guild and the servant halted instantly. + +"What are your terms?" cried Guild, speaking with the haste which he well +knew was necessary if he would save his master's life. + +"My terms are easy," answered John. "All I ask is that you allow me to +depart in peace. I am here on no harmful errand, and I demand that I may +depart and that I be not followed nor spied upon by any one." + +"You may depart in peace," said Guild. "No one will follow you; no one +will spy upon you. To this I pledge my knightly word in the name of Christ +my Saviour." + +John at once took his way unmolested up the hill and rode home with his +heart full of fear lest his tryst with Dorothy had been discovered. + +Guild and the servant assisted Sir George to rise, and the three started +down the hill toward the stile where Dorothy was standing. She was hidden +from them, however, by the wall. Jennie Faxton, who had been on guard +while John and Dorothy were at the gate, at Dorothy's suggestion stood on +top of the stile where she could easily be seen by Sir George when he +approached. + +"When my father comes here and questions you," said Dorothy to Jennie +Faxton, "tell him that the man whom he attacked was your sweetheart." + +"Never fear, mistress," responded Jennie. "I will have a fine story for +the master." + +Dorothy crouched inside the wall under the shadow of a bush, and Jennie +waited on the top of the stile. Sir George, thinking the girl was Dorothy, +lost no time in approaching her. He caught her roughly by the arm and +turned her around that he might see her face. + +"By God, Guild," he muttered, "I have made a mistake. I thought the girl +was Doll." + +He left instantly and followed Guild and the servant to the kitchen door. +When Sir George left the stile, Dorothy hastened back to the postern of +which she had the key, and hurried toward her room. She reached the door +of her father's room just in time to see Sir George and Guild enter it. +They saw her, and supposed her to be myself. If she hesitated, she was +lost. But Dorothy never hesitated. To think, with her, was to act. She did +not of course know that I was still in her apartments. She took the +chance, however, and boldly followed Sir John Guild into her father's +room. There she paused for a moment that she might not appear to be in too +great haste, and then entered Aunt Dorothy's room where I was seated, +waiting for her. + +"Dorothy, my dear child," exclaimed Lady Crawford, clasping her arms about +Dorothy's neck. + +"There is no time to waste in sentiment, Aunt Dorothy," responded the +girl. "Here are your sword and cloak, Malcolm. I thank you for their use. +Don them quickly." I did so, and walked into Sir George's room, where that +worthy old gentleman was dressing a slight wound in the hand. I stopped to +speak with him; but he seemed disinclined to talk, and I left the room. He +soon went to the upper court, and I presently followed him. + +Dorothy changed her garments, and she, Lady Crawford, and Madge also came +to the upper court. The braziers in the courtyard had been lighted and +cast a glare over two score half-clothed men and women who had been +aroused from their beds by the commotion of the conflict on the hillside. +Upon the upper steps of the courtyard stood Sir George and Jennie Faxton. + +"Who was the man you were with?" roughly demanded Sir George of the +trembling Jennie. Jennie's trembling was assumed for the occasion. + +"I will not tell you his name," she replied with tears. "He is my +sweetheart, and I will never come to the Hall again. Matters have come to +a pretty pass when a maiden cannot speak with her sweetheart at the stile +without he is set upon and beaten as if he were a hedgehog. My father is +your leal henchman, and his daughter deserves better treatment at your +hands than you have given me." + +"There, there!" said Sir George, placing his hand upon her head. "I was in +the wrong. I did not know you had a sweetheart who wore a sword. When I +saw you at the stile, I was sure you were another. I am glad I was wrong." +So was Dorothy glad. + +"Everybody be off to bed," said Sir George. "Ben Shaw, see that the +braziers are all blackened." + +Dorothy, Madge, and Lady Crawford returned to the latter's room, and Sir +George and I entered after them. He was evidently softened in heart by the +night's adventures and by the mistake he supposed he had made. + +A selfish man grows hard toward those whom he injures. A generous heart +grows tender. Sir George was generous, and the injustice he thought he had +done to Dorothy made him eager to offer amends. The active evil in all Sir +George's wrong-doing was the fact that he conscientiously thought he was +in the right. Many a man has gone to hell backward--with his face honestly +toward heaven. Sir George had not spoken to Dorothy since the scene +wherein the key to Bowling Green Gate played so important a part. + +"Doll," said Sir George, "I thought you were at the stile with a man. I +was mistaken. It was the Faxton girl. I beg your pardon, my daughter. I +did you wrong." + +"You do me wrong in many matters, father," replied Dorothy. + +"Perhaps I do," her father returned, "perhaps I do, but I mean for the +best. I seek your happiness." + +"You take strange measures at times, father, to bring about my happiness," +she replied. + +"Whom God loveth He chasteneth," replied Sir George, dolefully. + +"That manner of loving may be well enough for God," retorted Dorothy with +no thought of irreverence, "but for man it is dangerous. Whom man loves he +should cherish. A man who has a good, obedient daughter--one who loves +him--will not imprison her, and, above all, he will not refuse to speak to +her, nor will he cause her to suffer and to weep for lack of that love +which is her right. A man has no right to bring a girl into this world and +then cause her to suffer as you--as you--" + +She ceased speaking and sought refuge in silent feminine eloquence--tears. +One would have sworn she had been grievously injured that night. + +"But I am older than you, Doll, and I know what is best for your +happiness," said Sir George. + +"There are some things, father, which a girl knows with better, surer +knowledge than the oldest man living. Solomon was wise because he had so +many wives from whom he could absorb wisdom." + +"Ah, well!" answered Sir George, smiling in spite of himself, "you will +have the last word." + +"Confess, father," she retorted quickly, "that you want the last word +yourself." + +"Perhaps I do want it, but I'll never have it," returned Sir George; "kiss +me, Doll, and be my child again." + +"That I will right gladly," she answered, throwing her arms about her +father's neck and kissing him with real affection. Then Sir George said +good night and started to leave. At the door he stopped, and stood for a +little time in thought. + +"Dorothy," said he, speaking to Lady Crawford, "I relieve you of your duty +as a guard over Doll. She may go and come when she chooses." + +"I thank you, George," said Aunt Dorothy. "The task has been painful to +me." + +Dorothy went to her father and kissed him again, and Sir George departed. + +When the door was closed, Lady Crawford breathed a great sigh and said: "I +thank Heaven, Dorothy, he does not know that you have been out of your +room. How could you treat me so cruelly? How could you deceive me?" + +"That, Aunt Dorothy," replied the niece, "is because you are not old +enough yet to be a match for a girl who is--who is in love." + +"Shame upon you, Dorothy!" said Lady Crawford. "Shame upon you, to act as +you did, and now to speak so plainly about being in love! Malcolm said you +were not a modest girl, and I am beginning to believe him." + +"Did Malcolm speak so ill of me?" asked Dorothy, turning toward me with a +smile in her eyes. + +"My lady aunt," said I, turning to Lady Crawford, "when did I say that +Dorothy was an immodest girl?" + +"You did not say it," the old lady admitted. "Dorothy herself said it, and +she proves her words to be true by speaking so boldly of her feelings +toward this--this strange man. And she speaks before Madge, too." + +"Perhaps Madge is in the same sort of trouble. Who knows?" cried Dorothy, +laughing heartily. Madge blushed painfully. "But," continued Dorothy, +seriously, "I am not ashamed of it; I am proud of it. For what else, my +dear aunt, was I created but to be in love? Tell me, dear aunt, for what +else was I created?" + +"Perhaps you are right," returned the old lady, who in fact was +sentimentally inclined. + +"The chief end of woman, after all, is to love," said Dorothy. "What would +become of the human race if it were not?" + +"Child, child," cried the aunt, "where learned you such things?" + +"They were written upon my mother's breast," continued Dorothy, "and I +learned them when I took in my life with her milk. I pray they may be +written upon my breast some day, if God in His goodness shall ever bless +me with a baby girl. A man child could not read the words." + +"Dorothy, Dorothy!" cried Lady Crawford, "you shock me. You pain me." + +"Again I ask," responded Dorothy, "for what else was I created? I tell +you, Aunt Dorothy, the world decrees that women shall remain in ignorance, +or in pretended ignorance--in silence at least--regarding the things +concerning which they have the greatest need to be wise and talkative." + +"At your age, Dorothy, I did not have half your wisdom on the subject," +answered Lady Crawford. + +"Tell me, my sweet Aunt Dorothy, were you really in a state of ignorance +such as you would have me believe?" + +"Well," responded the old lady, hesitatingly, "I did not speak of such +matters." + +"Why, aunt, did you not?" asked Dorothy. "Were you ashamed of what God had +done? Were you ashamed of His great purpose in creating you a woman, and +in creating your mother and your mother's mother before you?" + +"No, no, child; no, no. But I cannot argue with you. Perhaps you are +right," said Aunt Dorothy. + +"Then tell me, dear aunt, that I am not immodest and bold when I speak +concerning that of which my heart is full to overflowing. God put it +there, aunt, not I. Surely I am not immodest by reason of His act." + +"No, no, my sweet child," returned Aunt Dorothy, beginning to weep softly. +"No, no, you are not immodest. You are worth a thousand weak fools such as +I was at your age." + +Poor Aunt Dorothy had been forced into a marriage which had wrecked her +life. Dorothy's words opened her aunt's eyes to the fact that the girl +whom she so dearly loved was being thrust by Sir George into the same +wretched fate through which she had dragged her own suffering heart for so +many years. From that hour she was Dorothy's ally. + +"Good night, Malcolm," said Lady Crawford, offering me her hand. I kissed +it tenderly; then I kissed the sweet old lady's cheek and said:-- + +"I love you with all my heart, Aunt Dorothy." + +"I thank you, Malcolm," she returned. + +I took my leave, and soon Madge went to her room, leaving Dorothy and Lady +Crawford together. + +When Madge had gone the two Dorothys, one at each end of life, spanned the +long years that separated them, and became one in heart by reason of a +heartache common to both. + +Lady Crawford seated herself and Dorothy knelt by her chair. + +"Tell me, Dorothy," said the old lady, "tell me, do you love this man so +tenderly, so passionately that you cannot give him up?" + +"Ah, my dear aunt," the girl responded, "words cannot tell. You cannot +know what I feel." + +"Alas! I know only too well, my child. I, too, loved a man when I was your +age, and none but God knows what I suffered when I was forced by my +parents and the priests to give him up, and to wed one whom--God help +me--I loathed." + +"Oh, my sweet aunt!" cried Dorothy softly, throwing her arms about the old +lady's neck and kissing her cheek. "How terribly you must have suffered!" + +"Yes," responded Lady Crawford, "and I am resolved you shall not endure +the same fate. I hope the man who has won your love is worthy of you. Do +not tell me his name, for I do not wish to practise greater deception +toward your father than I must. But you may tell me of his station in +life, and of his person, that I may know he is not unworthy of you." + +"His station in life," answered Dorothy, "is far better than mine. In +person he is handsome beyond any woman's wildest dream of manly beauty. In +character he is noble, generous, and good. He is far beyond my deserts, +Aunt Dorothy." + +"Then why does he not seek your hand from your father?" asked the aunt. + +"That I may not tell you, Aunt Dorothy," returned the girl, "unless you +would have me tell you his name, and that I dare not do. Although he is +vastly my superior in station, in blood, and in character, still my father +would kill me before he would permit me to marry this man of my choice; +and I, dear aunt, fear I shall die if I have him not." + +Light slowly dawned upon Aunt Dorothy's mind, and she exclaimed in a +terrified whisper:-- + +"My God, child, is it he?" + +"Yes," responded the girl, "yes, it is he." + +"Do not speak his name, Dorothy," the old lady said. "Do not speak his +name. So long as you do not tell me, I cannot know with certainty who he +is." After a pause Aunt Dorothy continued, "Perhaps, child, it was his +father whom I loved and was compelled to give up." + +"May the blessed Virgin pity us, sweet aunt," cried Dorothy, caressingly. + +"And help us," returned Lady Crawford. "I, too, shall help you," she +continued. "It will be through no fault of mine if your life is wasted as +mine has been." + +Dorothy kissed her aunt and retired. + +Next morning when Dorothy arose a song came from her heart as it comes +from the skylark when it sees the sun at dawn--because it cannot help +singing. It awakened Aunt Dorothy, and she began to live her life anew, in +brightness, as she steeped her soul in the youth and joyousness of Dorothy +Vernon's song. + +I have spoken before in this chronicle of Will Dawson. He was a Conformer. +Possibly it was by reason of his religious faith that he did not share the +general enmity that existed in Haddon Hall against the house of Rutland. +He did not, at the time of which I speak, know Sir John Manners, and he +did not suspect that the heir to Rutland was the man who had of late been +causing so much trouble to the house of Vernon. At least, if he did +suspect it, no one knew of his suspicions. + +Sir George made a great effort to learn who the mysterious interloper was, +but he wholly failed to obtain any clew to his identity. He had jumped to +the conclusion that Dorothy's mysterious lover was a man of low degree. He +had taken for granted that he was an adventurer whose station and person +precluded him from openly wooing his daughter. He did not know that the +heir to Rutland was in the Derbyshire country; for John, after his first +meeting with Dorothy, had carefully concealed his presence from everybody +save the inmates of Rutland. In fact, his mission to Rutland required +secrecy, and the Rutland servants and retainers were given to understand +as much. Even had Sir George known of John's presence at Rutland, the old +gentleman's mind could not have compassed the thought that Dorothy, who, +he believed, hated the race of Manners with an intensity equalled only by +his own feelings, could be induced to exchange a word with a member of the +house. His uncertainty was not the least of his troubles; and although +Dorothy had full liberty to come and go at will, her father kept constant +watch over her. As a matter of fact, Sir George had given Dorothy liberty +partly for the purpose of watching her, and he hoped to discover thereby +and, if possible, to capture the man who had brought trouble to his +household. Sir George had once hanged a man to a tree on Bowling Green +Hill by no other authority than his own desire. That execution was the +last in England under the old Saxon law of Infangthef and Outfangthef. Sir +George had been summoned before Parliament for the deed; but the writ had +issued against the King of the Peak, and that being only a sobriquet, was +neither Sir George's name nor his title. So the writ was quashed, and the +high-handed act of personal justice was not farther investigated by the +authorities. Should my cousin capture his daughter's lover, there would +certainly be another execution under the old Saxon law. So you see that my +friend Manners was tickling death with a straw for Dorothy's sake. + +One day Dawson approached Sir George and told him that a man sought +employment in the household of Haddon Hall. Sir George placed great +confidence in his forester; so he told Dawson to employ the man if his +services were needed. The new servant proved to be a fine, strong fellow, +having a great shock of carrot-colored hair and a bushy beard of rusty +red. + +Dawson engaged the newcomer, and assigned to him the duty of kindling the +fires in the family apartments of the Hall. The name of the new servant +was Thomas Thompson, a name that Dorothy soon abbreviated to Tom-Tom. + +One day she said to him, by way of opening the acquaintance, "Thomas, you +and I should be good friends; we have so much in common." + +"Thank you, my lady," responded Thomas, greatly pleased. "I hope we shall +be good friends; indeed, indeed I do, but I cannot tell wherein I am so +fortunate as to have anything in common with your Ladyship. What is it, +may I ask, of which we have so much in common?" + +"So much hair," responded Dorothy, laughing. + +"It were blasphemy, lady, to compare my hair with yours," returned Thomas. +"Your hair, I make sure, is such as the blessed Virgin had. I ask your +pardon for speaking so plainly; but your words put the thought into my +mind, and perhaps they gave me license to speak." + +Thomas was on his knees, placing wood upon the fire. + +"Thomas," returned Dorothy, "you need never apologize to a lady for making +so fine a speech. I declare a courtier could not have made a better one." + +"Perhaps I have lived among courtiers, lady," said Thomas. + +"I doubt not," replied Dorothy, derisively. "You would have me believe you +are above your station. It is the way with all new servants. I suppose +you have seen fine company and better days." + +"I have never seen finer company than now, and I have never known better +days than this," responded courtier Thomas. Dorothy thought he was +presuming on her condescension, and was about to tell him so when he +continued: "The servants at Haddon Hall are gentlefolk compared with +servants at other places where I have worked, and I desire nothing more +than to find favor in Sir George's eyes. I would do anything to achieve +that end." + +Dorothy was not entirely reassured by Thomas's closing words; but even if +they were presumptuous, she admired his wit in giving them an inoffensive +turn. From that day forth the acquaintance grew between the servant and +mistress until it reached the point of familiarity at which Dorothy dubbed +him Tom-Tom. + +Frequently Dorothy was startled by remarks made by Thomas, having in them +a strong dash of familiarity; but he always gave to his words a harmless +turn before she could resent them. At times, however, she was not quite +sure of his intention. + +Within a week after Thomas's advent to the hall, Dorothy began to suspect +that the new servant looked upon her with eyes of great favor. She +frequently caught him watching her, and at such times his eyes, which +Dorothy thought were really very fine, would glow with an ardor all too +evident. His manner was cause for amusement rather than concern, and since +she felt kindly toward the new servant, she thought to create a faithful +ally by treating him graciously. She might, she thought, need Thomas's +help when the time should come for her to leave Haddon Hall with John, if +that happy time should ever come. She did not realize that the most +dangerous, watchful enemy to her cherished scheme would be a man who was +himself in love with her, even though he were a servant, and she looked on +Thomas's evident infatuation with a smile. She did not once think that in +the end it might cause her great trouble, so she accepted his mute +admiration, and thought to make use of it later on. To Tom, therefore, +Dorothy was gracious. + +John had sent word to Dorothy, by Jennie Faxton, that he had gone to +London, and would be there for a fortnight or more. + +Sir George had given permission to his daughter to ride out whenever she +wished to do so, but he had ordered that Dawson or I should follow in the +capacity of spy, and Dorothy knew of the censorship, though she pretended +ignorance of it. So long as John was in London she did not care who +followed her; but I well knew that when Manners should return, Dorothy +would again begin manoeuvring, and that by some cunning trick she would +see him. + +[Illustration] + +One afternoon I was temporarily absent from the Hall and Dorothy wished to +ride. Dawson was engaged, and when Dorothy had departed, he ordered Tom to +ride after his mistress at a respectful distance. Nearly a fortnight had +passed since John had gone to London, and when Dorothy rode forth that +afternoon she was beginning to hope he might have returned, and that by +some delightful possibility he might then be loitering about the old +trysting-place at Bowling Green Gate. There was a half-unconscious +conviction in her heart that he would be there. She determined therefore, +to ride toward Rowsley, to cross the Wye at her former fording-place, and +to go up to Bowling Green Gate on the Devonshire side of the Haddon wall. +She had no reason, other than the feeling born of her wishes, to believe +that John would be there; but she loved the spot for the sake of the +memories which hovered about it. She well knew that some one would follow +her from the Hall; but she felt sure that in case the spy proved to be +Dawson or myself, she could easily arrange matters to her satisfaction, if +by good fortune she should find her lover at the gate. + +Tom rode so far behind his mistress that she could not determine who was +following her. Whenever she brought Dolcy to a walk, Tom-Tom also walked +his horse. When Dorothy galloped, he galloped; but after Dorothy had +crossed the Wye and had taken the wall over into the Devonshire lands, Tom +also crossed the river and wall and quickly rode to her side. He uncovered +and bowed low with a familiarity of manner that startled her. The act of +riding up to her and the manner in which he took his place by her side +were presumptuous to the point of insolence, and his attitude, although +not openly offensive, was slightly alarming. She put Dolcy to a gallop; +but the servant who, she thought, was presuming on her former +graciousness, kept close at Dolcy's heels. The man was a stranger, and she +knew nothing of his character. She was alone in the forest with him, and +she did not know to what length his absurd passion for her might lead him. +She was alarmed, but she despised cowardice, although she knew herself to +be a coward, and she determined to ride to the gate, which was but a short +distance ahead of her. She resolved that if the insolent fellow continued +his familiarity, she would teach him a lesson he would never forget. When +she was within a short distance of the gate she sprang from Dolcy and +handed her rein to her servant. John was not there, but she went to the +gate in the hope that a letter might be hidden beneath the stone bench +where Jennie was wont to find them in times past. Dorothy found no letter, +but she could not resist the temptation to sit down upon the bench where +he and she had sat, and to dream over the happy moments she had spent +there. Tom, instead of holding the horses, hitched them, and walked toward +Dorothy. That act on the part of her servant was effrontery of the most +insolent sort. Will Dawson himself would not have dared do such a thing. +It filled her with alarm, and as Tom approached she was trying to +determine in what manner she would crush him. But when the audacious +Thomas, having reached the gate, seated himself beside his mistress on the +stone bench, the girl sprang to her feet in fright and indignation. She +began to realize the extent of her foolhardiness in going to that secluded +spot with a stranger. + +"How dare you approach me in this insolent fashion?" cried Dorothy, +breathless with fear. + +"Mistress Vernon," responded Thomas, looking boldly up into her pale face, +"I wager you a gold pound sterling that if you permit me to remain here by +your side ten minutes you will be unwilling--" + +"John, John!" cried the girl, exultantly. Tom snatched the red beard from +his face, and Dorothy, after one fleeting, luminous look into his eyes, +fell upon her knees and buried her face in her hands. She wept, and John, +bending over the kneeling girl, kissed her sunlit hair. + +"Cruel, cruel," sobbed Dorothy. Then she lifted her head and clasped her +hands about his neck. "Is it not strange," she continued, "that I should +have felt so sure of seeing you? My reason kept telling me that my hopes +were absurd, but a stronger feeling full of the breath of certainty seemed +to assure me that you would be here. It impelled me to come, though I +feared you after we crossed the wall. But reason, fear, and caution were +powerless to keep me away." + +"You did not know my voice," said John, "nor did you penetrate my +disguise. You once said that you would recognize me though I wore all the +petticoats in Derbyshire." + +"Please don't jest with me now," pleaded Dorothy. "I cannot bear it. Great +joy is harder to endure than great grief. Why did you not reveal yourself +to me at the Hall?" she asked plaintively. + +"I found no opportunity," returned John, "others were always present." + +I shall tell you nothing that followed. It is no affair of yours nor of +mine. + +They were overjoyed in being together once more. Neither of them seemed to +realize that John, while living under Sir George's roof, was facing death +every moment. To Dorothy, the fact that John, who was heir to one of +England's noblest houses, was willing for her sake to become a servant, to +do a servant's work, and to receive the indignities constantly put upon a +servant, appealed most powerfully. It added to her feeling for him a +tenderness which is not necessarily a part of passionate love. + +It is needless for me to tell you that while John performed faithfully the +duty of keeping bright the fires in Haddon Hall, he did not neglect the +other flame--the one in Dorothy's heart--for the sake of whose warmth he +had assumed the leathern garb of servitude and had placed his head in the +lion's mouth. + +At first he and Dorothy used great caution in exchanging words and +glances, but familiarity with danger breeds contempt for it. So they +utilized every opportunity that niggard chance offered, and blinded by +their great longing soon began to make opportunities for speech with each +other, thereby bringing trouble to Dorothy and deadly peril to John. Of +that I shall soon tell you. + +During the period of John's service in Haddon Hall negotiations for +Dorothy's marriage with Lord Stanley were progressing slowly but surely. +Arrangements for the marriage settlement by the Stanleys, and for +Dorothy's dower to be given by Sir George, were matters that the King of +the Peak approached boldly as he would have met any other affair of +business. But the Earl of Derby, whose mind moved slowly, desiring that a +generous portion of the Vernon wealth should be transferred with Dorothy +to the Stanley holdings without the delay incident to Sir George's death, +put off signing the articles of marriage in his effort to augment the cash +payment. In truth, the great wealth which Dorothy would bring to the house +of Stanley was the earl's real reason for desiring her marriage with his +son. The earl was heavily in debt, and his estate stood in dire need of +help. + +Sir George, though attracted by the high nobility of the house of Stanley, +did not relish the thought that the wealth he had accumulated by his own +efforts, and the Vernon estates which had come down to him through +centuries, should go to pay Lord Derby's debts. He therefore insisted that +Dorothy's dower should be her separate estate, and demanded that it should +remain untouched and untouchable by either of the Stanleys. That +arrangement did not suit my lord earl, and although the son since he had +seen Dorothy at Derby-town was eager to possess the beautiful girl, his +father did not share his ardor. Lawyers were called in who looked +expensively wise, but they accomplished the purpose for which they were +employed. An agreement of marriage was made and was drawn up on an +imposing piece of parchment, brave with ribbons, pompous with seals, and +fair in clerkly penmanship. + +One day Sir George showed me the copy of the contract which had been +prepared for him. That evening at the cost of much labor he and I went +over the indenture word for word, and when we had finished Sir George +thought it was very good indeed. He seemed to think that all difficulties +in the way of the marriage were overcome when the agreement that lay +before us on the table had been achieved between him and the earl. I knew +Sir George's troubles had only begun; for I was aware of a fact which it +seemed impossible for him to learn, though of late Dorothy had given him +much teaching thereto. I knew that he had transmitted to his daughter a +large portion of his own fierce, stubborn, unbreakable will, and that in +her it existed in its most deadly form--the feminine. To me after supper +that night was assigned the task of reading and rereading many times to +Sir George the contents of the beautiful parchment. When I would read a +clause that particularly pleased my cousin, he insisted on celebrating the +event by drinking a mug of liquor drawn from a huge leather stoup which +sat upon the table between us. By the time I had made several readings of +the interesting document the characters began to mingle in a way that did +not impart ease and clearness to my style. Some of the strange +combinations which I and the liquor extracted from amid the seals and +ribbons puzzled Sir George not a little. But with each new libation he +found new clauses and fresh causes for self-congratulation, though to +speak exact truth I more than once married Sir George to the Earl of +Derby, and in my profanity gave Lord James Stanley to the devil to have +and to hold. + +Sir George was rapidly falling before his mighty enemy, drink, and I was +not far behind him, though I admit the fault with shame. My cousin for a +while was mightily pleased with the contract; but when the liquor had +brought him to a point where he was entirely candid with himself, he let +slip the fact that after all there was regret at the bottom of the goblet, +metaphorically and actually. Before his final surrender to drink he +dropped the immediate consideration of the contract and said:-- + +"Malcolm, I have in my time known many fools, but if you will permit an +old man, who loves you dearly, to make a plain statement of his +conviction--" + +"Certainly," I interrupted. + +"It would be a great relief to me," he continued, "to say that I believe +you to be the greatest fool the good God ever permitted to live." + +"I am sure, Sir George, that your condescending flattery is very +pleasing," I said. + +Sir George, unmindful of my remark, continued, "Your disease is not +usually a deadly malady, as a look about you will easily show; but, +Malcolm, if you were one whit more of a fool, you certainly would perish." + +I was not offended, for I knew that my cousin meant no offence. + +"Then, Sir George, if the time ever comes when I wish to commit suicide, I +have always at hand an easy, painless mode of death. I shall become only a +little more of a fool." I laughingly said, "I will do my utmost to absorb +a little wisdom now and then as a preventive." + +"Never a bit of wisdom will you ever absorb. A man who would refuse a girl +whose wealth and beauty are as great as Dorothy's, is past all hope. I +often awaken in the dark corners of the night when a man's troubles stalk +about his bed like livid demons; and when I think that all of this evil +which has come up between Dorothy and me, and all of this cursed +estrangement which is eating out my heart could have been averted if you +had consented to marry her, I cannot but feel--" + +"But, Sir George," I interrupted, "it was Dorothy, not I, who refused. She +could never have been brought to marry me." + +"Don't tell me, Malcolm; don't tell me," cried the old man, angrily. Drink +had made Sir George sullen and violent. It made me happy at first; but +with liquor in excess there always came to me a sort of frenzy. + +"Don't tell me," continued Sir George. "There never lived a Vernon who +couldn't win a woman if he would try. But put all that aside. She would +have obeyed me. I would have forced her to marry you, and she would have +thanked me afterward." + +"You could never have forced her to marry me," I replied. + +"But that I could and that I would have done," said Sir George. "The like +is done every day. Girls in these modern times are all perverse, but they +are made to yield. Take the cases of Sir Thomas Mobley, Sir Grant Rhodas, +and William Kimm. Their daughters all refused to marry the men chosen for +them, but the wenches were made to yield. If I had a daughter who refused +to obey me, I would break her; I would break her. Yes, by God, I would +break her if I had to kill her," and the old man brought his clenched hand +down upon the oak table with a crash. His eyes glared frightfully, and his +face bore a forbidding expression which boded no good for Dorothy. + +"She will make trouble in this matter," Sir George continued, tapping the +parchment with his middle finger. + +"She will make trouble about this; but, by God, Malcolm, she shall obey +me." + +He struck the oaken table another great blow with his fist, and glared +fiercely across at me. + +"Lord Wyatt had trouble with his daughter when he made the marriage with +Devonshire," continued Sir George. + +"A damned good match it was, too, for the girl. But she had her heart set +on young Gillman, and she refused to obey her father. She refused, by God, +point blank, to obey her father. She refused to obey the man who had given +her life. What did Wyatt do? He was a man who knew what a child owes to +its father, and, by God, Malcolm, after trying every other means to bring +the wench to her senses, after he had tried persuasion, after having in +two priests and a bishop to show her how badly she was acting, and after +he had tried to reason with her, he whipped her; yes, he whipped her till +she bled--till she bled, Malcolm, I tell you. Ah, Wyatt knew what is due +from a child to its parents. The whipping failed to bring the perverse +huzzy to obedience, so Wyatt threw her into a dungeon and starved her +till--till--" + +"Till she died," I interrupted. + +"Yes, till she died," mumbled Sir George, sullenly, "till she died, and it +served her right, by God, served her right." + +The old man was growing very drunk, and everything was beginning to +appear distorted to me. Sir George rose to his feet, leaned toward me with +glaring eyes, struck the table a terrible blow with his fist, and said:-- + +"By the blood of God I swear that if Doll refuses to marry Stanley, and +persists in her refusal, I'll whip her. Wyatt is a man after my own heart. +I'll starve her. I'll kill her. Ay, if I loved her ten thousand times more +than I do, I would kill her or she should obey me." + +Then dawned upon me a vision of terrible possibilities. I was sure Sir +George could not force Dorothy to marry against her will; but I feared +lest he might kill her in his effort to "break her." I do not mean that I +feared he would kill her by a direct act, unless he should do so in a +moment of frenzy induced by drink and passion, but I did fear for the +results of the breaking process. The like had often happened. It had +happened in the case of Wyatt's daughter. Dorothy under the intoxicating +influence of her passion might become so possessed by the spirit of a +martyr that she could calmly take a flogging, but my belief was that +should matters proceed to that extreme, should Sir George flog his +daughter, the chords of her highly strung nature would snap under the +tension, and she would die. I loved Dorothy for the sake of her fierce, +passionate, tender heart, and because she loved me; and even in my sober, +reflective moments I had resolved that my life, ay, and Sir George's life +also, should stand between the girl and the lash. If in calmness I could +deliberately form such a resolution, imagine the effect on my +liquor-crazed brain of Sir George's words and the vista of horrors they +disclosed. I was intoxicated. I was drunk. I say it with shame; and on +hearing Sir George's threat my half-frenzied imagination ran riot into the +foreboding future. + +All the candles, save one tottering wick, were dead in their sockets, and +the room was filled with lowering phantom-like shadows from oaken floor +to grimy vaulted roof beams. Sir George, hardly conscious of what he did +and said, all his evil passions quickened with drink, leaned his hands +upon the table and glared across at me. He seemed to be the incarnation of +rage and ferocity, to so great a pitch had he wrought himself. The +sputtering candle feebly flickered, and seemed to give its dim light only +that the darksome shadows might flit and hover about us like vampires on +the scent of blood. A cold perspiration induced by a nameless fear came +upon me, and in that dark future to which my heated imagination travelled +I saw, as if revealed by black magic, fair, sweet, generous Dorothy, +standing piteously upon Bowling Green hillside. Over her drooping form +there hung in air a monster cloudlike image of her father holding in its +hand a deadly bludgeon. So black, so horrid was this shadow-demon that I +sprang from my chair with a frightful oath, and shrieked:-- + +"Hell is made for man because of his cruelty to woman." + +Sir George had sunk into his chair. Liquor had finished its work, and the +old man, resting his head upon his folded arms, leaned forward on the +table. He was drunk--dead to the world. How long I stood in frenzied +stupor gazing at shadow-stricken Dorothy upon the hillside I do not know. +It must have been several minutes. Blood of Christ, how vividly I remember +the vision! The sunny radiance of the girl's hair was darkened and dead. +Her bending attitude was one of abject grief. Her hands covered her face, +and she was the image of woe. Suddenly she lifted her head with the quick +impulsive movement so familiar in her, and with a cry eloquent as a +child's wail for its mother called, "John," and held out her arms +imploringly toward the dim shadowy form of her lover standing upon the +hill crest. Then John's form began to fade, and as its shadowy essence +grew dim, despair slowly stole like a mask of death over Dorothy's face. +She stood for a moment gazing vacantly into space. Then she fell to the +ground, the shadow of her father hovering over her prostrate form, and the +words, "Dead, dead, dead," came to me in horrifying whispers from every +dancing shadow-demon in the room. + +In trying to locate the whispers as they reverberated from floor to oaken +rafters, I turned and saw Sir George. He looked as if he were dead. + +"Why should you not be dead in fact?" I cried. "You would kill your +daughter. Why should I not kill you? That will solve the whole question." + +I revelled in the thought; I drank it in; I nursed it; I cuddled it; I +kissed it. Nature's brutish love for murder had deluged my soul. I put my +hand to my side for the purpose of drawing my sword or my knife. I had +neither with me. Then I remember staggering toward the fireplace to get +one of the fire-irons with which to kill my cousin. I remember that when I +grasped the fire-iron, by the strange working of habit I employed it for +the moment in its proper use; and as I began to stir the embers on the +hearth, my original purpose was forgotten. That moment of habit-wrought +forgetfulness saved me and saved Sir George's life. I remember that I sank +into the chair in front of the fireplace, holding the iron, and I thank +God that I remember nothing more. + +During the night the servants aroused me, and I staggered up the stone +stairway of Eagle Tower and clambered into my room. + +The next morning I awakened feeling ill. There was a taste in my mouth as +If I had been chewing a piece of the devil's boot over night. I wanted no +breakfast, so I climbed to the top of the tower, hoping the fresh morning +breeze might cool my head and cleanse my mouth. For a moment or two I +stood on the tower roof bareheaded and open-mouthed while I drank in the +fresh, purifying air. The sweet draught helped me physically; but all the +winds of Boreas could not have blown out of my head the vision of the +previous night. The question, "Was it prophetic?" kept ringing in my ears, +answerless save by a superstitious feeling of fear. Then the horrid +thought that I had only by a mere chance missed becoming a murderer came +upon me, and again was crowded from my mind by the memory of Dorothy and +the hovering spectre which had hung over her head on Bowling Green +hillside. + +I walked to the north side of the tower and on looking down the first +person I saw was our new servant, Thomas, holding two horses at the +mounting stand. One of them was Dolcy, and I, feeling that a brisk ride +with Dorothy would help me to throw off my wretchedness, quickly descended +the tower stairs, stopped at my room for my hat and cloak, and walked +around to the mounting block. Dorothy was going to ride, and I supposed +she would prefer me to the new servant as a companion. + +I asked Thomas if his mistress were going out for a ride, and he replied +affirmatively. + +"Who is to accompany her?" I asked. + +"She gave orders for me to go with her," he answered. + +"Very well," I responded, "take your horse back to the stable and fetch +mine." The man hesitated, and twice he began to make reply, but finally he +said:-- + +"Very well, Sir Malcolm." + +He hitched Dolcy to the ring in the mounting block and started back toward +the stable leading his own horse. At that moment Dorothy came out of the +tower gate, dressed for the ride. Surely no woman was ever more beautiful +than she that morning. + +"Tom-Tom, where are you taking the horse?" she cried. + +"To the stable, Mistress," answered the servant. "Sir Malcolm says he will +go with you." + +Dorothy's joyousness vanished. From radiant brightness her expression +changed in the twinkling of an eye to a look of disappointment so +sorrowful that I at once knew there was some great reason why she did not +wish me to ride with her. I could not divine the reason, neither did I +try. I quickly said to Thomas:-- + +"Do not bring my horse. If Mistress Vernon will excuse me, I shall not +ride with her this morning. I forgot for the moment that I had not +breakfasted." + +Again came to Dorothy's face the radiant look of joy as if to affirm what +it had already told me. I looked toward Thomas, and his eyes, too, were +alight. I could make nothing of it. Thomas was a fine-looking fellow, +notwithstanding his preposterous hair and beard; but I felt sure there +could be no understanding between the man and his mistress. + +When Thomas and Dorothy had mounted, she timidly ventured to say:-- + +"We are sorry, Cousin Malcolm, that you cannot ride with us." + +She did not give me an opportunity to change my mind, but struck Dolcy a +sharp blow with her whip that sent the spirited mare galloping toward the +dove-cote, and Thomas quickly followed at a respectful distance. From the +dove-cote Dorothy took the path down the Wye toward Rowsley. I, of course, +connected her strange conduct with John. When a young woman who is well +balanced physically, mentally, and morally acts in a strange, unusual +manner, you may depend on it there is a man somewhere behind her motive. + +I knew that John was in London. Only the night before I had received word +from Rutland Castle that he had not returned, and that he was not expected +home for many days. + +So I concluded that John could not be behind my fair cousin's motive. I +tried to stop guessing at the riddle Dorothy had set me, but my effort was +useless. I wondered and thought and guessed, but I brought to myself only +the answer, "Great is the mystery of womanhood." + +After Dorothy had ridden away I again climbed to the top of Eagle Tower +and saw the riders cross the Wye at Dorothy's former fording-place, and +take the wall. I then did a thing that fills me with shame when I think of +it. For the only time in my whole life I acted the part of a spy. I +hurried to Bowling Green Gate, and horror upon horror, there I beheld my +cousin Dorothy in the arms of Thomas, the man-servant. I do not know why +the truth of Thomas's identity did not dawn upon me, but it did not, and I +stole away from the gate, thinking that Dorothy, after all, was no better +than the other women I had known at various times in my life, and I +resolved to tell John what I had seen. You must remember that the women I +had known were of the courts of Mary Stuart and of Guise, and the less we +say about them the better. God pity them! Prior to my acquaintance with +Dorothy and Madge I had always considered a man to be a fool who would put +his faith in womankind. To me women were as good as men,--no better, no +worse. But with my knowledge of those two girls there had grown up in me a +faith in woman's virtue which in my opinion is man's greatest comforter; +the lack of it his greatest torment. + +I went back to Eagle Tower and stood at my window looking down the Wye, +hoping soon to see Dorothy returning home. I did not feel jealousy in the +sense that a lover would feel it; but there was a pain in my heart, a +mingling of grief, anger, and resentment because Dorothy had destroyed not +only my faith in her, but, alas! my sweet, new-born faith in womankind. +Through her fault I had fallen again to my old, black belief that virtue +was only another name for the lack of opportunity. It is easy for a man +who has never known virtue in woman to bear and forbear the lack of it; +but when once he has known the priceless treasure, doubt becomes +excruciating pain. + +After an hour or two Dorothy and her servant appeared at the ford and took +the path up the Wye toward Haddon. Thomas was riding a short distance +behind his accommodating mistress, and as they approached the Hall, I +recognized something familiar in his figure. At first, the feeling of +recognition was indistinct, but when the riders drew near, something about +the man--his poise on the horse, a trick with the rein or a turn with his +stirrup, I could not tell what it was--startled me like a flash in the +dark, and the word "John!" sprang to my lips. The wonder of the thing +drove out of my mind all power to think. I could only feel happy, so I lay +down upon my bed and soon dropped off to sleep. + +When I awakened I was rapt in peace, for I had again found my treasured +faith in womankind. I had hardly dared include Madge in my backsliding, +but I had come perilously near doing it, and the thought of my narrow +escape from such perfidy frightened me. I have never taken the risk since +that day. I would not believe the testimony of my own eyes against the +evidence of my faith in Madge. + +I knew that Thomas was Sir John Manners, and yet I did not know it +certainly. I determined, if possible, to remain in partial ignorance, +hoping that I might with some small show of truth be able to plead +ignorance should Sir George accuse me of bad faith in having failed to +tell him of John's presence in Haddon Hall. That Sir George would sooner +or later discover Thomas's identity I had little doubt. That he would kill +him should he once have him in his power, I had no doubt at all. Hence, +although I had awakened in peace concerning Dorothy, you may understand +that I awakened to trouble concerning John. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE COST MARK OF JOY + + +Peace had been restored between Dorothy and her father. At least an +armistice had been tacitly declared. But, owing to Dorothy's knowledge of +her father's intention that she should marry Lord Stanley, and because of +Sir George's feeling that Dorothy had determined to do nothing of the +sort, the belligerent powers maintained a defensive attitude which +rendered an absolute reconciliation impossible. They were ready for war at +a moment's notice. + +The strangest part of their relation was the failure of each to comprehend +and fully to realize the full strength of the other's purpose. Dorothy +could not bring herself to believe that her father, who had until within +the last few weeks, been kind and indulgent to her, seriously intended to +force her into marriage with a creature so despicable as Stanley. In fact, +she did not believe that her father could offer lasting resistance to her +ardent desire in any matter. Such an untoward happening had never befallen +her. Dorothy had learned to believe from agreeable experience that it was +a crime in any one, bordering on treason, to thwart her ardent desires. It +is true she had in certain events, been compelled to coax and even to weep +gently. On a few extreme occasions she had been forced to do a little +storming in order to have her own way; but that any presumptuous +individuals should resist her will after the storming had been resorted +to was an event of such recent happening in her life that she had not +grown familiar with the thought of it. Therefore, while she felt that her +father might seriously annoy her with the Stanley project, and while she +realized that she might be compelled to resort to the storming process in +a degree thitherto uncalled for, she believed that the storm she would +raise would blow her father entirely out of his absurd and utterly +untenable position. On the other hand, while Sir George anticipated +trouble with Dorothy, he had never been able to believe that she would +absolutely refuse to obey him. In those olden times--now nearly half a +century past--filial disobedience was rare. The refusal of a child to obey +a parent, and especially the refusal of a daughter to obey her father in +the matter of marriage, was then looked upon as a crime and was frequently +punished in a way which amounted to barbarous ferocity. Sons, being of the +privileged side of humanity, might occasionally disobey with impunity, but +woe to the poor girl who dared set up a will of her own. A man who could +not compel obedience from his daughter was looked upon as a poor weakling, +and contempt was his portion in the eyes of his fellow-men--in the eyes of +his fellow-brutes, I should like to say. + +Growing out of such conditions was the firm belief on the part of Sir +George that Dorothy would in the end obey him; but if by any hard chance +she should be guilty of the high crime of disobedience--Well! Sir George +intended to prevent the crime. Perhaps mere stubborness and fear of the +contempt in which he would be held by his friends in case he were defeated +by his own daughter were no small parts of Sir George's desire to carry +through the enterprise in which he had embarked with the Stanleys. +Although there was no doubt in Sir George's mind that he would eventually +conquer in the conflict with Dorothy, he had a profound respect for the +power of his antagonist to do temporary battle, and he did not care to +enter into actual hostilities until hostilities should become actually +necessary. + +Therefore, upon the second day after I had read the beribboned, besealed +contract to Sir George, he sent an advance guard toward the enemy's line. +He placed the ornamental piece of parchment in Lady Crawford's hands and +directed her to give it to Dorothy. + +But before I tell you of the parchment I must relate a scene that occurred +in Aunt Dorothy's room a few hours after I recognized John as he rode up +the Wye with Dorothy. It was late in the afternoon of the day after I read +the contract to Sir George and saw the horrid vision on Bowling Green. + +I was sitting with Madge at the west window of Dorothy's parlor. We were +watching the sun as it sank in splendor beneath Overhaddon Hill. + +I should like first to tell you a few words--only a few, I pray +you--concerning Madge and myself. I will. + +I have just said that Madge and I were watching the sun at the west +window, and I told you but the truth, for Madge had learned to see with my +eyes. Gladly would I have given them to her outright, and willingly would +I have lived in darkness could I have given light to her. She gave light +to me--the light of truth, of purity, and of exalted motive. There had +been no words spoken by Madge nor me to any one concerning the strange and +holy chain that was welding itself about us, save the partial confession +which she had whispered to Dorothy. But notwithstanding our silence, our +friends in the Hall understood that Madge and I were very dear to each +other. I, of course, saw a great deal of her; but it was the evening hour +at the west window to which I longingly looked forward all the day. I am +no poet, nor do my words and thoughts come with the rhythmic flow and +eloquent imagery of one to whom the talent of poesy is given. But during +those evening hours it seemed that with the soft touch of Madge's hand +there ran through me a current of infectious dreaming which kindled my +soul till thoughts of beauty came to my mind and words of music sprang to +my lips such as I had always considered not to be in me. It was not I who +spoke; it was Madge who saw with my eyes and spoke with my voice. To my +vision, swayed by Madge's subtle influence, the landscape became a thing +of moving beauty and of life, and the floating clouds became a panorama of +ever shifting pictures. I, inspired by her, described so eloquently the +wonders I saw that she, too, could see them. Now a flock of white-winged +angels rested on the low-hung azure of the sky, watching the glory of +Phoebus as he drove his fiery steeds over the western edge of the world. +Again, Mount Olympus would grow before my eyes, and I would plainly see +Jove sitting upon his burnished throne, while gods and goddesses floated +at his feet and revelled on the fleecy mountain sides. Then would +mountain, gods, and goddesses dissolve,--as in fact they did dissolve ages +ago before the eyes of millions who had thought them real,--and in their +places perhaps would come a procession of golden-maned lions, at the +description of which would Madge take pretended fright. Again, would I see +Madge herself in flowing white robes made of the stuff from which fleecy +clouds are wrought. All these wonders would I describe, and when I would +come to tell her of the fair cloud image of herself I would seize the +joyous chance to make her understand in some faint degree how altogether +lovely in my eyes the vision was. Then would she smile and softly press my +hand and say:-- + +"Malcolm, it must be some one else you see in the cloud," though she was +pleased. + +But when the hour was done then came the crowning moment of the day, for +as I would rise to take my leave, if perchance we were alone, she would +give herself to my arms for one fleeting instant and willingly would her +lips await--but there are moments too sacred for aught save holy thought. +The theme is sweet to me, but I must go back to Dorothy and tell you of +the scene I have promised you. + +As I have already said, it was the evening following that upon which I had +read the marriage contract to Sir George, and had seen the vision on the +hillside. Madge and I were sitting at the west window. Dorothy, in +kindness to us, was sitting alone by the fireside in Lady Crawford's +chamber. Thomas entered the room with an armful of fagots, which he +deposited in the fagot-holder. He was about to replenish the fire, but +Dorothy thrust him aside, and said:-- + +"You shall kindle no more fires for me. At least you shall not do so when +no one else is by. It pains me that you, at whose feet I am unworthy to +kneel, should be my servant" + +Thereupon she took in her hands the fagot John had been holding. He +offered to prevent her, but she said:-- + +"Please, John, let me do this." + +The doors were open, and we heard all that was said by Dorothy and Tom. +Madge grasped my hand in surprise and fear. + +"Please, John," said Dorothy, "if it gives me pleasure to be your servant, +you should not wish to deny me. There lives but one person whom I would +serve. There, John, I will give you another, and you shall let me do as I +will." + +Dorothy, still holding the fagot in her hands, pressed it against John's +breast and gently pushed him backward toward a large armchair, in which +she had been sitting by the west side of the fireplace. + +"You sit there, John, and we will make believe that this is our house, and +that you have just come in very cold from a ride, and that I am making a +fine fire to warm you. Isn't it pleasant, John? There, you sit and warm +yourself--my--my--husband," she said laughingly. "It is fine sport even to +play at. There is one fagot on the fire," she said, as she threw the wood +upon the embers, causing them to fly in all directions. John started up to +brush the scattered embers back into the fireplace, but Dorothy stopped +him. + +"I will put them all back," she said. "You know you are cold and very +tired. You have been overseeing the tenantry and have been hunting. Will +you have a bowl of punch, my--my husband?" and she laughed again and +kissed him as she passed to the holder for another fagot. + +"I much prefer that to punch," said John, laughing softly. "Have you +more?" + +"Thousands of them, John, thousands of them." She rippled forth a little +laugh and continued: "I occupy my time nowadays in making them that I may +always have a great supply when we are--that is, you know, when you--when +the time comes that you may require a great many to keep you in good +humor." Again came the laugh, merry and clear as the tinkle of sterling +silver. + +She laughed again within a minute or two; but when the second laugh came, +it sounded like a knell. + +Dorothy delighted to be dressed in the latest fashion. Upon this occasion +she wore a skirt vast in width, of a pattern then much in vogue. The +sleeves also were preposterously large, in accordance with the custom of +the times. About her neck a beautiful white linen ruff stood out at least +the eighth part of an ell. The day had been damp and cold, and the room in +which she had been sitting was chilly. For that reason, most fortunately, +she had thrown over her shoulders a wide sable cloak broad enough to +enfold her many times and long enough to reach nearly to her knees: +Dorothy thus arrayed was standing in front of John's chair. She had just +spoken the words "good humor," when the door leading to her father's room +opened and in walked Sir George. She and her ample skirts and broad +sleeves were between John and the door. Not one brief instant did Dorothy +waste in thought. Had she paused to put in motion the machinery of reason, +John would have been lost. Thomas sitting in Lady Crawford's chair and +Dorothy standing beside him would have told Sir George all he needed to +know. He might not have discovered John's identity, but a rope and a tree +in Bowling Green would quickly have closed the chapter of Dorothy's +mysterious love affair. Dorothy, however, did not stop to reason nor to +think. She simply acted without preliminary thought, as the rose unfolds +or as the lightning strikes. She quietly sat down upon John's knees, +leaned closely back against him, spread out the ample folds of her skirt, +threw the lower parts of her broad cape over her shoulders and across the +back of the chair, and Sir John Manners was invisible to mortal eyes. + +"Come in, father," said Dorothy, in dulcet tones that should have betrayed +her. + +"I heard you laughing and talking," said Sir George, "and I wondered who +was with you." + +"I was talking to Madge and Malcolm who are in the other room," replied +Dorothy. + +"Did not Thomas come in with fagots?" asked Sir George. + +"I think he is replenishing the fire in the parlor, father, or he may have +gone out. I did not notice. Do you want him?" + +"I do not especially want him," Sir George answered. + +"When he finishes in the parlor I will tell him that you want him," said +Dorothy. + +"Very well," replied Sir George. + +He returned to his room, but he did not close the door. + +The moment her father's back was turned Dorothy called:-- + +"Tom--Tom, father wants you," and instantly Thomas was standing +deferentially by her side, and she was seated in the great chair. It was a +rapid change, I assure you. But a man's life and his fortune for good or +ill often hang upon a tiny peg--a second of time protruding from the wall +of eternity. It serves him briefly; but if he be ready for the vital +instant, it may serve him well. + +"Yes, mistress," said Thomas, "I go to him at once." + +John left the room and closed the door as he passed out. Then it was that +Dorothy's laugh sounded like the chilling tones of a knell. It was the +laugh of one almost distraught. She came to Madge and me laughing, but the +laugh quickly changed to convulsive sobs. The strain of the brief moment +during which her father had been in Lady Crawford's room had been too +great for even her strong nerves to bear. She tottered and would have +fallen had I not caught her. I carried her to the bed, and Madge called +Lady Crawford. Dorothy had swooned. + +When she wakened she said dreamily:-- + +"I shall always keep this cloak and gown." + +Aunt Dorothy thought the words were but the incoherent utterances of a +dimly conscious mind, but I knew they were the deliberate expression of a +justly grateful heart. + +The following evening trouble came about over the matter of the marriage +contract. + +You remember I told you that Sir George had sent Lady Crawford as an +advance guard to place the parchment in the enemy's hands. But the advance +guard feared the enemy and therefore did not deliver the contract directly +to Dorothy. She placed it conspicuously upon the table, knowing well that +her niece's curiosity would soon prompt an examination. + +I was sitting before the fire in Aunt Dorothy's room, talking to Madge +when Lady Crawford entered, placed the parchment on the table, and took a +chair by my side. Soon Dorothy entered the room. The roll of parchment, +brave with ribbons, was lying on the table. It attracted her attention at +once, and she took it in her hands. + +"What is this?" she asked carelessly. Her action was prompted entirely by +idle curiosity. That, by the way, was no small motive with Dorothy. She +had the curiosity of a young doe. Receiving no answer, she untied the +ribbons and unrolled the parchment to investigate its contents for +herself. When the parchment was unrolled, she began to read:-- + +"In the name of God, amen. This indenture of agreement, looking to union +in the holy bonds of marriage between the Right Honorable Lord James +Stanley of the first part, and Mistress Dorothy Vernon of Haddon of the +second part--" + +She read no farther. She crumpled the beautiful parchment in her hands, +walked over to the fire, and quietly placed the sacred instrument in the +midst of the flames. Then she turned away with a sneer of contempt upon +her face and--again I grieve to tell you this--said:-- + +"In the name of God, amen. May this indenture be damned." + +"Dorothy!" exclaimed Lady Crawford, horrified at her niece's profanity. "I +feel shame for your impious words." + +"I don't care what you feel, aunt," retorted Dorothy, with a dangerous +glint in her eyes. "Feel as you wish, I meant what I said, and I will say +it again if you would like to hear it. I will say it to father when I see +him. Now, Aunt Dorothy, I love you and I love my father, but I give you +fair warning there is trouble ahead for any one who crosses me in this +matter." + +She certainly looked as if she spoke the truth. Then she hummed a tune +under her breath--a dangerous signal in Dorothy at certain times. Soon the +humming turned to whistling. Whistling in those olden days was looked upon +as a species of crime in a girl. + +Dorothy stood by the window for a short time and then taking up an +embroidery frame, drew a chair nearer to the light and began to work at +her embroidery. In a moment or two she stopped whistling, and we could +almost feel the silence in the room. Madge, of course, only partly knew +what had happened, and her face wore an expression of expectant, anxious +inquiry. Aunt Dorothy looked at me, and I looked at the fire. The +parchment burned slowly. Lady Crawford, from a sense of duty to Sir George +and perhaps from politic reasons, made two or three attempts to speak, and +after five minutes of painful silence she brought herself to say:-- + +"Dorothy, your father left the contract here for you to read. He will be +angry when he learns what you have done. Such disobedience is sure to--" + +"Not another word from you," screamed Dorothy, springing like a tigress +from her chair. "Not another word from you or I will--I will scratch you. +I will kill some one. Don't speak to me. Can't you see that I am trying to +calm myself for an interview with father? An angry brain is full of +blunders. I want to make none. I will settle this affair with father. No +one else, not even you, Aunt Dorothy, shall interfere." The girl turned to +the window, stood beating a tattoo upon the glass for a moment or two, +then went over to Lady Crawford and knelt by her side. She put her arms +about Aunt Dorothy's neck, softly kissed her, and said:-- + +"Forgive me, dear aunt; forgive me. I am almost crazed with my troubles. I +love you dearly indeed, indeed I do." + +Madge gropingly went to Dorothy's side and took her hand. Dorothy kissed +Madge's hand and rose to her feet. + +"Where is my father?" asked Dorothy, to whom a repentant feeling toward +Lady Crawford had brought partial calmness. "I will go to him immediately +and will have this matter over. We might as well understand each other at +once. Father seems very dull at understanding me. But he shall know me +better before long." + +Sir George may have respected the strength of his adversary, but Dorothy +had no respect for the strength of her foe. She was eager for the fray. +When she had a disagreeable thing to do, she always wanted to do it +quickly. + +Dorothy was saved the trouble of seeking her father, for at that moment he +entered the room. + +"You are welcome, father," said Dorothy in cold, defiant tones. "You have +come just in time to see the last flickering flame of your fine marriage +contract." She led him to the fireplace. "Does it not make a beautiful +smoke and blaze?" + +"Did you dare--" + +"Ay, that I did," replied Dorothy. + +"You dared?" again asked her father, unable to believe the evidence of his +eyes. + +"Ay, so I said; that I did," again said Dorothy. + +"By the death of Christ--" began Sir George. + +"Now be careful, father, about your oaths," the girl interrupted. "You +must not forget the last batch you made and broke." + +Dorothy's words and manner maddened Sir George. The expression of her +whole person, from her feet to her hair, breathed defiance. The poise of +her body and of her limbs, the wild glint in her eyes, and the turn of her +head, all told eloquently that Sir George had no chance to win and that +Dorothy was an unconquerable foe. It is a wonder he did not learn in that +one moment that he could never bring his daughter to marry Lord Stanley. + +"I will imprison you," cried Sir George, gasping with rage. + +"Very well," responded Dorothy, smilingly. "You kept me prisoner for a +fortnight. I did not ask you to liberate me. I am ready to go back to my +apartments." + +"But now you shall go to the dungeon," her father said. + +"Ah, the dungeon!" cried the girl, as if she were delighted at the +thought. "The dungeon! Very well, again. I am ready to go to the dungeon. +You may keep me there the remainder of my natural life. I cannot prevent +you from doing that, but you cannot force me to marry Lord Stanley." + +"I will starve you until you obey me!" retorted her father. "I will starve +you!" + +"That, again, you may easily do, my dear father; but again I tell you I +will never marry Stanley. If you think I fear to die, try to kill me. I do +not fear death. You have it not in your power to make me fear you or +anything you can do. You may kill me, but I thank God it requires my +consent for my marriage to Stanley, and I swear before God that never +shall be given." + +The girl's terrible will and calm determination staggered Sir George, and +by its force beat down even his strong will. The infuriated old man +wavered a moment and said:-- + +"Fool, I seek only your happiness in this marriage. Only your happiness. +Why will you not consent to it?" + +I thought the battle was over, and that Dorothy was the victor. She +thought so, too, but was not great enough to bear her triumph silently. +She kept on talking and carried her attack too far. + +"And I refuse to obey because of my happiness. I refuse because I hate +Lord Stanley, and because, as you already know, I love another man." + +When she spoke the words "because I love another man," the cold, defiant +expression of her face changed to one of ecstasy. + +"I will have you to the dungeon this very hour, you brazen huzzy," cried +Sir George. + +"How often, father, shall I repeat that I am ready to go to the dungeon? I +am eager to obey you in all things save one." + +"You shall have your wish," returned Sir George. "Would that you had died +ere you had disgraced your house with a low-bred dog whose name you are +ashamed to utter." + +"Father, there has been no disgrace," Dorothy answered, and her words bore +the ring of truth. + +"You have been meeting the fellow at secluded spots in the forest--how +frequently you have met him God only knows--and you lied to me when you +were discovered at Bowling Green Gate." + +"I would do it again gladly if I but had the chance," answered the girl, +who by that time was reckless of consequences. + +"But the chance you shall not have," retorted Sir George. + +"Do not be too sure, father," replied Dorothy. She was unable to resist +the temptation to mystify him. "I may see him before another hour. I will +lay you this wager, father, if I do not within one hour see the man--the +man whom I love--I will marry Lord Stanley. If I see him within that time +you shall permit me to marry him. I have seen him two score times since +the day you surprised me at the gate." + +That was a dangerous admission for the girl to make, and she soon +regretted it with all her heart. Truly she was right. An angry brain is +full of blunders. + +Of course Dorothy's words, which were so full of meaning to Madge and me, +meant little to Sir George. He looked upon them only as irritating +insolence on her part. A few minutes later, however, they became full of +significance. + +Sir George seemed to have forgotten the Stanley marriage and the burning +of the contract in his quarrel with Dorothy over her unknown lover. + +Conceive, if you can, the situation in Haddon Hall at that time. There was +love-drunk Dorothy, proud of the skill which had enabled her to outwit her +wrathful father. There was Sir George, whose mental condition, inflamed by +constant drinking, bordered on frenzy because he felt that his child, whom +he had so tenderly loved from the day of her birth, had disgraced herself +with a low-born wretch whom she refused to name. And there, under the same +roof, lived the man who was the root and source of all the trouble. A +pretty kettle of fish! + +"The wager, father, will you take it?" eagerly asked Dorothy. + +Sir George, who thought that her words were spoken only to anger him, +waved her off with his hands and said:-- + +"I have reason to believe that I know the wretch for whose sake you have +disgraced yourself. You may be sure that I shall soon know him with +certainty. When I do, I will quickly have him in my power. Then I will +hang him to a tree on Bowling Green, and you shall see the low-born dog +die." + +"He is better born than any of our house," retorted Dorothy, who had lost +all sense of caution. "Ay, he is better born than any with whom we claim +kin." + +Sir George stood in open-eyed wonder, and Dorothy continued: "You cannot +keep him from me. I shall see him, and I will have him despite you. I tell +you again, I have seen him two score times since you tried to spy upon us +at Bowling Green Gate, and I will see him whenever I choose, and I will +wed him when I am ready to do so. You cannot prevent it. You can only be +forsworn, oath upon oath; and if I were you, I would stop swearing." + +Sir George, as was usual with him in those sad times, was inflamed with +drink, and Dorothy's conduct, I must admit, was maddening. In the midst of +her taunting Thomas stepped into the room bearing an armful of fagots. Sir +George turned to him and said:-- + +"Go and tell Welch to bring a set of manacles." + +"For Mistress Dorothy?" Thomas asked, surprised into the exclamation. + +"Curse you, do you mean to bandy words with me, you scum?" cried Sir +George. + +He snatched a fagot from John and drew back his arm to strike him. John +took one step back from Sir George and one step nearer to Dorothy. + +"Yes, Thomas," said Dorothy, sneeringly, "bring Welch with the manacles +for me. My dear father would put me in the dungeon out of the reach of +other men, so that he may keep me safely for my unknown lover. Go, Thomas. +Go, else father will again be forsworn before Christ and upon his +knighthood." + +"This before a servant! I'll gag you, you hellish vixen," cried Sir +George. Then I am sure he knew not what he did. "Curse you!" he cried, as +he held the fagot upraised and rushed upon Dorothy. John, with his arms +full of fagots, could not avert the blow which certainly would have killed +the girl, but he could take it. He sprang between Dorothy and her father, +the fagot fell upon his head, and he sank to the floor. In his fall John's +wig dropped off, and when the blood began to flow from the wound Dorothy +kneeled beside his prostrate form. She snatched the great bush of false +beard from his face and fell to kissing his lips and his hands in a +paroxysm of passionate love and grief. Her kisses she knew to be a panacea +for all ills John could be heir to, and she thought they would heal even +the wound her father had given, and stop the frightful outpouring of +John's life-blood. The poor girl, oblivious of all save her wounded +lover, murmured piteously:-- + +"John, John, speak to me; 'tis Dorothy." She placed her lips near his ear +and whispered: "'Tis Dorothy, John. Speak to her." But she received no +response. Then came a wild light to her eyes and she cried aloud: "John, +'tis Dorothy. Open your eyes. Speak to me, John! oh, for God's sake speak +to me! Give some little sign that you live," but John was silent. "My God, +my God! Help, help! Will no one help me save this man? See you not that +his life is flowing away? This agony will kill me. John, my lover, my +lord, speak to me. Ah, his heart, his heart! I will know." She tore from +his breast the leathern doublet and placed her ear over his heart. "Thank +God, it beats!" she cried in a frenzied whisper, as she kissed his breast +and turned her ear again to hear his heart's welcome throbbing. Then she +tried to lift him in her arms and succeeded in placing his head in her +lap. It was a piteous scene. God save me from witnessing another like it. + +After Dorothy lifted John's head to her lap he began to breathe +perceptibly, and the girl's agitation passed away as she gently stroked +his hair and kissed him over and over again, softly whispering her love to +his unresponsive ear in a gentle frenzy of ineffable tenderness such as +was never before seen in this world, I do believe. I wish with all my +heart that I were a maker of pictures so that I might draw for you the +scene which is as clear and vivid in every detail to my eyes now as it was +upon that awful day in Haddon Hall. There lay John upon the floor and by +his side knelt Dorothy. His head was resting in her lap. Over them stood +Sir George with the murderous fagot raised, as if he intended again to +strike. I had sprung to his side and was standing by him, intending to +fell him to the floor should he attempt to repeat the blow upon either +Dorothy or John. Across from Sir George and me, that is, upon the opposite +side of Dorothy and John, stood Lady Crawford and Madge, who clung to each +other in terror. The silence was heavy, save when broken by Dorothy's sobs +and whispered ejaculations to John. Sir George's terrible deed had +deprived all of us, including himself, of the power to speak. I feared to +move from his side lest he should strike again. After a long agony of +silence he angrily threw the fagot away from him and asked:-- + +"Who is this fellow? Can any one tell me?" + +Only Madge, Dorothy, and I could have given him true answer. By some +strange power of divination Madge had learned all that had happened, and +she knew as well as I the name of the man who lay upon the floor battling +with death. Neither Madge nor I answered. + +"Who is this fellow?" again demanded Sir George. + +Dorothy lifted her face toward her father. + +"He is the man whom you seek, father," she answered, in a low, tearful +voice. "He is my lover; he is my life; he is my soul, and if you have +murdered him in your attempt to kill your own child, all England shall +hear of it and you shall hang. He is worth more in the eyes of the queen +than we and all our kindred. You know not whom you have killed." + +Sir George's act had sobered him. + +"I did not intend to kill him--in that manner," said Sir George, dropping +his words absent-mindedly. "I hoped to hang him. Where is Dawson? Some one +fetch Dawson." + +Several of the servants had gathered about the open door in the next room, +and in obedience to Sir George's command one of them went to seek the +forester. I feared that John would die from the effects of the blow; but I +also knew from experience that a man's head may receive very hard knocks +and life still remain. Should John recover and should Sir George learn +his name, I was sure that my violent cousin would again attempt the +personal administration of justice and would hang him, under the old Saxon +law. In that event Parliament would not be so easily pacified as upon the +occasion of the former hanging at Haddon; and I knew that if John should +die by my cousin's hand, Sir George would pay for the act with his life +and his estates. Fearing that Sir George might learn through Dawson of +John's identity, I started out in search of Will to have a word with him +before he could see his master. I felt sure that for many reasons Will +would be inclined to save John; but to what extent his fidelity to the +cause of his master might counteract his resentment of Sir George's act, I +did not know. I suspected that Dawson was privy to John's presence in +Haddon Hall, but I was not sure of it, so I wished to prepare the forester +for his interview with Sir George and to give him a hint of my plans for +securing John's safety, in the event he should not die in Aunt Dorothy's +room. + +When I opened the door in the Northwest Tower I saw Dawson coming toward +the Hall from the dove-cote, and I hastened forward to meet him. It was +pitiful that so good a man as Sir George Vernon was, should have been +surrounded in his own house by real friends who were also traitors. That +was the condition of affairs in Haddon Hall, and I felt that I was the +chief offender. The evil, however, was all of Sir George's making. Tyranny +is the father of treason. + +When I met Dawson I said: "Will, do you know who Tom-Tom is?" + +The forester hesitated for a moment, and said, "Well, Sir Malcolm, I +suppose he is Thomas--" + +"No, no, Will, tell me the truth. Do you know that he is--or perhaps by +this time I should say he was--Sir John Manners?" + +[Illustration] + +"Was?" cried Will. "Great God! Has Sir George discovered--is he dead? If +he is dead, it will be a sad day for Sir George and for Haddon Hall. Tell +me quickly." + +I at once knew Will Dawson was in the secret. I answered:-- + +"I hope he is not dead. Sir George attempted to strike Dorothy with a +fagot, but Thomas stepped in front of her and received the blow. He is +lying almost, if not quite, dead in Lady Crawford's room. Sir George knows +nothing about him, save that he is Dorothy's lover. But should Thomas +revive I feel sure my cousin will hang him in the morning unless steps are +taken to prevent the deed." + +"Sir Malcolm, if you will stand by me," said Dawson, "Sir George will not +hang him." + +"I certainly will stand by you, Dawson. Have no doubt on that score. Sir +George intends to cast John into the dungeon, and should he do so I want +you to send Jennie Faxton to Rutland and have her tell the Rutlanders to +rescue John to-night. To-morrow morning I fear will be too late. Be on +your guard, Will. Do not allow Sir George to discover that you have any +feeling in this matter. Above all, lead him from the possibility of +learning that Thomas is Sir John Manners. I will contrive to admit the +Rutland men at midnight." + +I hastened with Dawson back to the Hall, where we found the situation as I +had left it. John's head was lying on Dorothy's lap, and she was trying to +dress his wound with pieces of linen torn from her clothing. Sir George +was pacing to and fro across the room, breaking forth at times in curses +against Dorothy because of her relations with a servant. + +When Dawson and I entered the room, Sir George spoke angrily to Will:-- + +"Who is this fellow? You employed him. Who is he?" + +"He gave me his name as Thomas Thompson," returned Will, "and he brought +me a favorable letter of recommendation from Danford." + +Danford was forester to the Duke of Devonshire, and lived at Chatsworth. + +"There was naught in the letter save that he was a good servant and an +honest man. That is all we can ask of any man." + +"But who is he?" again demanded Sir George. + +"Your worship may perhaps learn from Danford more than I can tell you," +replied the forester, adroitly avoiding a lie. + +"Think of it, Malcolm," said Sir George, speaking to me. "Think of it. My +daughter, my only child, seeks for her husband this low-born serving man. +I have always been sure that the fellow would prove to be such." Then he +turned to Dawson: "Throw the fellow into the dungeon. If he lives till +morning, I will have him hanged. To the dungeon with him." + +Sir George waved his hand toward Dawson and Tom Welch, and then stepped +aside. Will made an effort to hide his feelings, and without a word or +gesture that could betray him, he and Welch lifted John to carry him away. +Then it was piteous to see Dorothy. She clung to John and begged that he +might be left with her. Sir George violently thrust her away from John's +side, but she, still upon her knees, grasped her father's hand and cried +out in agony:-- + +"Father, let me remain with him. If you have ever felt love for me, and if +my love for you has ever touched one tender spot in your heart, pity me +now and leave this man with me, or let me go with him. I beg you, father; +I plead; I implore. He may be dying. We know not. In this hour of my agony +be merciful to me." + +But Sir George rudely repulsed her and left the room, following Welch and +Dawson, who bore John's unconscious form between them. Dorothy rose to her +feet screaming and tried to follow John. I, fearing that in her frenzy of +grief she might divulge John's name, caught her in my arms and detained +her by force. She turned upon me savagely and struck me in her effort to +escape. She called me traitor, villain, dog, but I lifted her in my arms +and carried her struggling to her bedroom. I wanted to tell her of the +plans which Dawson and I had made, but I feared to do so, lest she might +in some way betray them, so I left her in the room with Lady Crawford and +Madge. I told Lady Crawford to detain Dorothy at all hazards, and I +whispered to Madge asking her to tell Dorothy that I would look to John's +comfort and safety. I then hastily followed Sir George, Dawson, and Welch, +and in a few moments I saw them leave John, bleeding and senseless, upon +the dungeon floor. When Sir George's back was turned, Dawson by my orders +brought the surgeon from the stable where he had been working with the +horses. The surgeon bound up the wound in John's head and told me, to my +great joy, that it was not fatal. Then he administered a reviving potion +and soon consciousness returned. I whispered to John that Dawson and I +would not forsake him, and, fearing discovery by Sir George, hurriedly +left the dungeon. + +I believe there is a certain amount of grief and sorrow which comes with +every great joy to give it a cost mark whereby we may always know its +value. The love between Dorothy and John indeed was marked in plain +figures of high denominations. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LEICESTER POSSIBILITY + + +On leaving the dungeon I sought Madge, and after I had whispered a word to +her from my heart I asked her to tell Dorothy the encouraging words of the +surgeon, and also to tell her that she should not be angry with me until +she was sure she had good cause. I dared not send a more explicit message, +and I dared not go to Dorothy, for Sir George was in a suspicious mood and +I feared ruin not only for myself but for John, should my violent cousin +suspect me of sympathy with his daughter and her lover. + +I also sought Aunt Dorothy and whispered a word to her of which you shall +hear more presently. + +"Ah, I cannot do it," cried the trembling old lady in response to my +whispered request. "I cannot do it." + +"But you must, Aunt Dorothy," I responded. "Upon it depend three lives: +Sir George's, Dorothy's, and her lover's. You must do it." + +"I will try," she replied. + +"That assurance will not suit me," I responded. "You must promise upon +your salvation that you will not fail me." + +"I promise upon my salvation," replied Aunt Dorothy. + +That evening of course we did not see the ladies at supper. Sir George and +I ate in silence until my cousin became talkative from drink. Then he +spoke bitterly of Dorothy's conduct, and bore with emphasis upon the fact +that the lover to whom Dorothy had stooped was a low-born serving man. + +"But Dorothy declares he is noble," I responded. + +"She has lied to me so often that I do not believe a word she says," +returned Sir George. + +He swore oath upon oath that the wretch should hang in the morning, and +for the purpose of carrying into effect his intention he called in Joe the +butcher and told him to make all things ready for the execution. + +I did not attempt to thwart his purpose by word or gesture, knowing it +would be useless, but hoped that John would be out of his reach long ere +the cock would crow his first greeting to the morrow's sun. + +After Sir George had drunk far into the night the servants helped him to +bed, and he carried with him the key to the dungeon together with the keys +to all the outer doors and gates of Haddon Hall, as was his custom. The +keys were in a bunch, held together by an iron ring, and Sir George always +kept them under his pillow at night. + +I sought my bed in Eagle Tower and lay down in my clothes to rest and +wait. The window of my room was open. + +Within an hour after midnight I heard the hooting of an owl. The doleful +sound came up to me from the direction of the stone footbridge at the +southwest corner of the Hall below the chapel. I went to my window and +looked out over the courts and terrace. Haddon Hall and all things in and +about it were wrapped in slumbrous silence. I waited, and again I heard +the hooting of the owl. Noiselessly leaving my room I descended the stone +steps to an unused apartment in the tower from which a window opened upon +the roof of the north wing of the Hall. Along that roof I crept with bared +feet, till I reached another roof, the battlements of which at the lowest +point were not more than twenty feet from the ground. Thence I clambered +down to a window cornice five or six feet lower, and jumped, at the risk +of my limbs, the remaining distance of fifteen or sixteen feet to the soft +sod beneath. I ran with all haste, took my stand under Aunt Dorothy's +window, and whistled softly. The window casing opened and I heard the +great bunch of keys jingling and clinking against the stone wall as Aunt +Dorothy paid them out to me by means of a cord. After I had secured the +keys I called in a whisper to Lady Crawford and directed her to leave the +cord hanging from the window. I also told her to remain in readiness to +draw up the keys when they should have served their purpose. Then I took +them and ran to the stone footbridge where I found four Rutland men who +had come in response to the message Dawson had sent by Jennie Faxton. Two +of the men went with me, and we entered the lower garden by the southwest +postern. Thence we crept noiselessly to the terrace and made our entrance +into the Hall by "Dorothy's Postern." I had in my life engaged in many +questionable and dangerous enterprises, but this was my first attempt at +house-breaking. To say that I was nervous would but poorly define the +state of my feelings. Since that day I have respected the high calling of +burglary and regard with favor the daring knights of the skeleton key. I +was frightened. I, who would feel no fear had I to fight a dozen men, +trembled with fright during this adventure. The deathlike silence and the +darkness in familiar places seemed uncanny to me. The very chairs and +tables appeared to be sleeping, and I was fearful lest they should awaken. +I cannot describe to you how I was affected. Whether it was fear or awe or +a smiting conscience I cannot say, but my teeth chattered as if they were +in the mouth of a fool, and my knees quaked as if they supported a coward. +Still I knew I was doing my duty, though one's conscience sometimes smites +him when his reason tells him he is acting righteously. It is more +dangerous to possess a sensitive conscience which cannot be made to hear +reason than to have none at all. But I will make short my account of that +night's doings. The two Rutland men and I groped our way to the dungeon +and carried forth John, who was weak from loss of blood. I told them to +lock the door of the Hall as they passed out and to attach the keys to the +cord hanging from Lady Crawford's window. Then I climbed to my room again, +feeling in conscience like a criminal because I had done the best act of +my life. + +Early next morning I was awakened by a great noise in the upper court. +When I looked out at my window I beheld Sir George. He was half dressed +and was angrily questioning the servants and retainers. I knew that he had +discovered John's escape, but I did not know all, nor did I know the +worst. I dressed and went to the kitchen, where I bathed my hands and +face. There I learned that the keys to the hall had been stolen from under +Sir George's pillow, and that the prisoner had escaped from the dungeon. +Old Bess, the cook, nodded her head wisely and whispered to me the words, +"Good for Mistress Doll." + +Bess's unsought confidence alarmed me. I did not relish the thought that +Bess nor any one else should believe me to be in sympathy with Dorothy, +and I said:-- + +"If Mistress Vernon had aught to do with last night's affairs, she should +be full of shame. I will not believe that she knew of it at all. My +opinion is that one of the servants was bribed by some person interested +in Tom-Tom's escape." + +"Believe nothing of the sort," retorted Bess. "It is the mistress and not +the servant who stole the keys and liberated Tom-Tom. But the question is, +who may Tom-Tom be? and the servants' hall is full of it. We are not +uncertain as to the manner of his escape. Some of the servants do say that +the Earl of Leicester be now visiting the Duke of Devonshire; and some +also do say that his Lordship be fond of disguises in his gallantry. They +do also say that the queen is in love with him, and that he must disguise +himself when he woos elsewhere, or she be's famously jealous. It would be +a pretty mess the master has brought us all into should Tom-Tom prove to +be my lord Earl of Leicester. We'd all hang and to hell." + +"Bess, that tongue of yours will cost you your head one of these good +times," I remarked, while I rubbed my face with the towel. + +"I would sooner lose my head," retorted Bess, "than have my mouth shut by +fear. I know, Sir Malcolm, that I'll not die till my time comes; but +please the good God when my time does come I will try to die talking." + +"That you will," said I. + +"True word, Sir Malcolm," she answered, and I left her in possession of +the field. + +I went into the courtyard, and when Sir George saw me he said, "Malcolm, +come with me to my room; I want a word with you." + +We went to his room. + +"I suppose you know of the fellow's escape last night?" he said. + +"Yes," I replied, "Bess told me about it in the kitchen." + +It seemed to me that my words said, "I did it." + +"Not only was the fellow liberated," said my cousin, "but the keys to all +the outer gates and doors of the Hall have been stolen and carried away. +Can you help me unravel this affair?" + +"Do you suspect any one of having stolen the keys?" I asked. + +"I know, of course, that Dorothy did it. Who her accomplices were, if any +she had, I do not know. I have catechized the servants, but the question +is bottomless to me." + +"Have you spoken to Dorothy on the subject?" I asked. + +"No," he replied, "but I have sent word to her by the Faxton girl that I +am going to see her at once. Come with me." + +We went into Lady Crawford's room. She was ill and in bed. I did not +wonder that she was ill after the experiences of the previous night. Sir +George asked her if she had heard or seen Dorothy pass through her room +during the night. She said:-- + +"Dorothy did not pass through this room last night. I did not once close +my eyes in sleep, and I should have seen her had she been here at all." + +Sir George entered Dorothy's bedroom, and Lady Crawford beckoned me to go +to her side. + +"I waited till sunrise," she said, "that I might draw up the keys." + +"Hush!" said I, "the cord?" + +"I burned it," she replied. + +Then I followed Sir George into Dorothy's room. Madge was dressed for the +day, and Dorothy, who had been helping her, was making her own toilet. Her +hair hung loose and fell like a cataract of sunshine over her bare +shoulders. But no words that I can write would give you a conception of +her wondrous beauty, and I shall not waste them in the attempt. When we +entered the room she was standing at the mirror. She turned, comb in hand, +toward Sir George and said:-- + +"I suppose, father, you will accuse me of liberating Thomas." + +"You must know that I will accuse you," replied Sir George. + +"Then, father, for once you will accuse me falsely. I am overjoyed that he +has escaped, and I certainly should have tried to liberate him had I +thought it possible to do so. But I did not do it, though to tell you the +truth I am sorry I did not." + +"I do not believe you," her father replied. + +"I knew you would not believe me," answered Dorothy. "Had I liberated him +I should probably have lied to you about it; therefore, I wonder not that +you should disbelieve me. But I tell you again upon my salvation that I +know nothing of the stealing of the keys nor of Tom-Tom's escape. Believe +me or not, I shall deny it no more." + +Madge gropingly went to Sir George's side, and he tenderly put his arms +about her, saying:-- + +"I would that you were my daughter." Madge took his hand caressingly. + +"Uncle, I want to tell you that Dorothy speaks the truth," she said. "I +have been with her every moment since the terrible scene of yesterday +evening. Neither Dorothy nor I closed our eyes in sleep all night long. +She lay through the dark hours moaning, and I tried to comfort her. Our +door was locked, and it was opened only by your messenger who brought the +good news of Tom-Tom's escape. I say good news, uncle, because his escape +has saved you from the stain of murder. You are too brave a man to do +murder, uncle." + +"How dare you," said Sir George, taking his arm from Madge's waist, "how +dare you defend--" + +"Now, uncle, I beg you pause and take a moment's thought," said Madge, +interrupting him. "You have never spoken unkindly to me." + +"Nor will I, Madge, so long as I live. I know there is not a lie in you, +and I am sure you believe to be true all you tell me, but Dorothy has +deceived you by some adroit trick." + +"If she deceived me, she is a witch," retorted Madge, laughing softly. + +"That I am almost ready to believe is the case," said Sir George. +Dorothy, who was combing her hair at the mirror, laughed softly and +said:-- + +"My broomstick is under the bed, father." + +Sir George went into Lady Crawford's room and shut the door, leaving me +with the girls. + +When her father had left, Dorothy turned upon me with fire in her eyes:-- + +"Malcolm Vernon, if you ever lay hands upon me again as you did last +night, I will--I will scratch you. You pretended to be his friend and +mine, but for a cowardly fear of my father you came between us and you +carried me to this room by force. Then you locked the door and--and"-- + +"Did not Madge give you my message?" I asked, interrupting her. + +"Yes, but did you not force me away from him when, through my fault, he +was almost at death's door?" + +"Have your own way, Dorothy," I said. "There lives not, I hope, another +woman in the world so unreasoning and perverse as you." + +She tossed her head contemptuously and continued to comb her hair. + +"How, suppose you," I asked, addressing Dorothy's back, as if I were +seeking information, "how, suppose you, the Rutland people learned that +John was confined in the Haddon dungeon, and how did they come by the +keys?" + +The girl turned for a moment, and a light came to her anger-clouded face +as the rainbow steals across the blackened sky. + +"Malcolm, Malcolm," she cried, and she ran to me with her bare arms +outstretched. + +"Did you liberate him?" she asked. "How did you get the keys?" + +"I know nothing of it, Dorothy, nothing," I replied. + +"Swear it, Malcolm, swear it," she said. + +"I will swear to nothing," I said, unclasping her arms from my neck. + +"Then I will kiss you," she answered, "for you are my dear good brother, +and never so long as I live will I again doubt you." + +But she did before long doubt me again, and with good cause. + +Dorothy being in a gentle humor; I took advantage of the opportunity to +warn her against betraying John's name to her father. I also told her to +ask her father's forgiveness, and advised her to feign consent to the +Stanley marriage. Matters had reached a point where some remedy, however +desperate, must be applied. + +Many persons, I fear, will condemn me for advising Dorothy to deceive her +father; but what would you have had me do? Should I have told her to marry +Stanley? Certainly not. Had I done so, my advice would have availed +nothing. Should I have advised her to antagonize her father, thereby +keeping alive his wrath, bringing trouble to herself and bitter regret to +him? Certainly not. The only course left for me to advise was the least of +three evils--a lie. Three evils must be very great indeed when a lie is +the least of them. In the vast army of evils with which this world swarms +the lie usually occupies a proud position in the front rank. But at times +conditions arise when, coward-like, he slinks to the rear and evils +greater than he take precedence. In such sad case I found Dorothy, and I +sought help from my old enemy, the lie. Dorothy agreed with me and +consented to do all in her power to deceive her father, and what she could +not do to that end was not worth doing. + +Dorothy was anxious about John's condition, and sent Jennie Faxton to +Bowling Green, hoping a letter would be there for her. Jennie soon +returned with a letter, and Dorothy once more was full of song, for +John's letter told her that he was fairly well and that he would by some +means see her soon again despite all opposition. + +"At our next meeting, my fair mistress," John said in the letter, "you +must be ready to come with me. I will wait no longer for you. In fairness +to me and to yourself you shall not ask me to wait. I will accept no more +excuses. You must come with me when next we meet." + +"Ah, well," said Dorothy to Madge, "if I must go with him, I must. Why did +he not talk in that fashion when we rode out together the last time? I +like to be made to do what I want to do. He was foolish not to make me +consent, or better still would it have been had he taken the reins of my +horse and ridden off with me, with or against my will. I might have +screamed, and I might have fought him, but I could not have hurt him, and +he would have had his way, and--and," with a sigh, "I should have had my +way." + +After a brief pause devoted to thought, she continued:-- + +"If I were a man and were wooing a woman, I would first learn what she +wanted to do and then--and then, by my word, I would make her do it." + +I went from Dorothy's room to breakfast, where I found Sir George. I took +my seat at the table and he said:-- + +"Who, in God's name, suppose you, could have taken the keys from my +pillow?" + +"Is there any one whom you suspect?" I asked for lack of anything else to +say. + +"I at first thought, of course, that Dorothy had taken them," he answered. +"But Madge would not lie, neither would my sister. Dorothy would not +hesitate to lie herself blue in the face, but for some reason I believed +her when she told me she knew nothing of the affair. Her words sounded +like truth for once." + +"I think, Sir George," said I, "you should have left off 'for once.' +Dorothy is not a liar. She has spoken falsely to you only because she +fears you. I am sure that a lie is hateful to her." + +"Malcolm, I wish I could have your faith," he responded. "By the way, +Malcolm, have you ever seen the Earl of Leicester?" + +"I saw him only once. He visited Scotland during the ceremonies at Queen +Mary's return from France. I saw him once, and then but briefly. Why do +you ask?" + +"It is whispered among the servants," said Sir George, "that Leicester is +at Chatsworth in disguise." + +Chatsworth was the home of the Duke of Devonshire, and was but a short +distance from Haddon. After Sir George spoke, I remembered the words of +old Bess. + +"Still, I do not know why you ask." I said. + +"My reason is this," replied Sir George; "Dorothy declared the fellow was +of noble blood. It is said that Leicester loves gallant adventure +incognito. He fears her Majesty's jealousy if in such matters he acts +openly. You remember the sad case of Mistress Robsart. I wonder what +became of the girl? He made way with her in some murderous fashion, I am +sure." Sir George remained in revery for a moment, and then the poor old +man cried in tones of distress: "Malcolm, if that fellow whom I struck +last night was Leicester, and if he has been trying his hellish tricks on +my Doll I--I should pity her; I should not abuse her. I may have been +wrong. If he has wronged Doll--if he has wronged my girl, I will pursue +him to the ends of the earth for vengeance. That is why I ask if you have +ever seen the Earl of Leicester. Was the man who lay upon the floor last +night Robert Dudley? If it were he, and if I had known it, I would have +beaten him to death then and there. Poor Doll!" + +Any one hearing the old man speak would easily have known that Doll was +all that life held for him to love. + +"I do not distinctly remember Leicester's face," I answered, "but since +you speak of it, I believe there is a resemblance between him and the man +we called Thomas. But even were it he, Sir George, you need have no fear +for Dorothy. She of all women is able and willing to protect herself." + +"I will go to Dorothy and ask her to tell me the truth. Come with me." + +We again went to Dorothy's room. She had, since I last saw her, received +the letter from John of which I have spoken, and when we entered her +parlor where she and Madge were eating breakfast we found her very happy. +As a result she was willing and eager to act upon my advice. + +She rose and turned toward her father. + +"You told me, Doll, that the fellow was of noble blood. Did you speak the +truth?" + +"Yes, father, I spoke the truth. There is no nobler blood in England than +his, save that of our royal queen. In that you may believe me, father, for +I speak the truth." + +Sir George remained silent for a moment and then said:-- + +"If the man is he whom I believe him to be he can have no true purpose +with you. Tell me, my child--the truth will bring no reproaches from +me--tell me, has he misused you in any way?" + +"No, father, before God, he has been a true gentleman to me." + +The poor old man struggled for a moment with his emotions; then tears came +to his eyes and he covered his face with his hands as he started to leave +the room. + +Dorothy ran to him and clasped her arms about his neck. Those two, father +and child, were surely of one blood as shown in the storms of violence and +tenderness by which their natures were alternately swept. + +"Father, you may believe me; you do believe me," said Dorothy. +"Furthermore, I tell you that this man has treated me with all courtesy, +nay, more: he has treated me with all the reverence he would have shown +our queen." + +"He can have no true purpose with you, Doll," said Sir George, who felt +sure that Leicester was the man. + +"But he has, father, a true purpose with me. He would make me his wife +to-day would I consent." + +"Why then does he not seek you openly?" + +"That he cannot do," Dorothy responded hesitatingly. + +"Tell me, Doll, who is the man?" asked Sir George. + +I was standing behind him and Dorothy's face was turned toward me. She +hesitated, and I knew by her expression that she was about to tell all. +Sir George, I believe, would have killed her had she done so. I placed my +finger on my lips and shook my head. + +Dorothy said: "That I cannot tell you, father. You are wasting words in +asking me." + +"Is it because of his wish that you refuse to tell me his name?" asked Sir +George. I nodded my head. + +"Yes, father," softly responded Dorothy in the old dangerous, dulcet +tones. + +"That is enough; I know who the man is." + +Dorothy kissed her father. He returned the caress, much to my surprise, +and left the room. + +When I turned to follow Sir George I glanced toward Dorothy. Her eyes were +like two moons, so full were they of wonderment and inquiry. + +I stopped with Sir George in his room. He was meditative and sad. + +"I believe my Doll has told me the truth," he said. + +"Have no doubt of it, Sir George," I replied. + +"But what good intent can Leicester have toward my girl?" he asked. + +"Of that I cannot say," I replied; "but my dear cousin, of this fact be +sure: if he have evil intent toward Dorothy, he will fail." + +"But there was the Robsart girl," he replied. + +"Ay," said I, "but Dorothy Vernon is not Amy Robsart. Have no fear of your +daughter. She is proof against both villany and craft. Had she been in +Mistress Robsart's place, Leicester would not have deserted her. Dorothy +is the sort of woman men do not desert. What say you to the fact that +Leicester might wish to make her his wife?" + +"He may purpose to do so secretly, as in the case of the Robsart girl," +returned Sir George. "Go, Malcolm, and ask her if he is willing to make +her his wife before the world." + +I was glad of an opportunity for a word with Dorothy, so I hastily went to +her. I told her of the Leicester phase of the situation, and I also told +her that her father had asked me if the man whom she loved was willing to +make her his wife before the world. + +"Tell my father," said she, "that I will be no man's wife save before all +the world. A man who will not acknowledge me never shall possess me." + +I went back to Sir George and delivered the message word for word. + +"She is a strange, strong girl, isn't she, Malcolm?" said her father. + +"She is her father's child," I replied. + +"By my spurs she is. She should have been a man," said Sir George, with a +twinkle of admiration in his eyes. He admired a good fight even though he +were beaten in it. + +It is easy to be good when we are happy. Dorothy, the great disturber, +was both. Therefore, peace reigned once more in Haddon Hall. + +Letters frequently passed between John and Dorothy by the hand of Jennie +Faxton, but John made no attempt to meet his sweetheart. He and Dorothy +were biding their time. + +A fortnight passed during which Cupid confined his operations to Madge and +myself. For her sweet sake he was gracious and strewed our path with +roses. I should delight to tell you of our wooing. She a fair young +creature of eighteen, I a palpitating youth of thirty-five. I should love +to tell you of Madge's promise to be my wife, and of the announcement in +the Hall of our betrothal; but there was little of interest in it to any +one save ourselves, and I fear lest you should find it very sentimental +and dull indeed. I should love to tell you also of the delightful walks +which Madge and I took together along the sweet old Wye and upon the crest +of Bowling Green; but above all would I love to tell you of the delicate +rose tints that came to her cheek, and how most curiously at times, when +my sweetheart's health was bounding, the blessed light of day would +penetrate the darkened windows of her eyes, and how upon such occasions +she would cry out joyously, "Oh, Malcolm, I can dimly see." I say I should +love to tell you about all those joyous happenings, but after all I fear I +should shrink from doing so in detail, for the feelings and sayings of our +own hearts are sacred to us. It is much easier to tell of the love affairs +of others. + +A fortnight or three weeks passed quietly in Haddon Hall. Sir George had +the notion firmly fixed in his head that the man whom Dorothy had been +meeting held honorable intentions toward the girl. He did her the justice +to believe that by reason of her strength and purity she would tolerate +none other. At times he felt sure that the man was Leicester, and again +he flouted the thought as impossible. If it were Leicester, and if he +wished to marry Dorothy, Sir George thought the match certainly would be +illustrious. Halting between the questions, "Is he Leicester?" and "Is he +not Leicester?" Sir George did not press the Stanley nuptials, nor did he +insist upon the signing of the contract. Dorothy received from her father +full permission to go where and when she wished. But her father's +willingness to give her liberty excited her suspicions. She knew he would +permit her to leave the Hall only that he might watch her, and, if +possible, entrap her and John. Therefore, she rode out only with Madge and +me, and sought no opportunity to see her lover. It may be that her +passiveness was partly due to the fact that she knew her next meeting with +John would mean farewell to Haddon Hall. She well knew she was void of +resistance when in John's hands. And his letter had told her frankly what +he would expect from her when next they should meet. She was eager to go +to him; but the old habit of love for home and its sweet associations and +her returning affection for her father, now that he was kind to her, were +strong cords entwining her tender heart, which she could not break +suddenly even for the sake of the greater joy. + +One day Dorothy received from John a letter telling her he would on the +following morning start for the Scottish border with the purpose of +meeting the queen of Scotland. A plan had been formed among Mary's friends +in Scotland to rescue her from Lochleven Castle, where she was a prisoner, +and to bring her incognito to Rutland. John had been chosen to escort her +from the English border to his father's castle. From thence, when the +opportunity should arise, she was to escape to France, or make her peace +with Elizabeth. The adventure was full of peril both for her Scottish and +English friends. The Scottish regent Murray surely would hang all the +conspirators whom he might capture, and Elizabeth would probably inflict +summary punishment upon any of her subjects whom she could convict of +complicity in the plot. + +In connection with this scheme to rescue Mary it was said there was also +another conspiracy. There appeared to be a plot within a plot which had +for its end the enthronement of Mary in Elizabeth's stead. + +The Rutlands knew nothing of this subplot. + +Elizabeth had once or twice expressed sympathy with her Scottish cousin. +She had said in John's presence that while she could not for reasons of +state _invite_ Mary to seek refuge in England, still if Mary would come +uninvited she would be welcomed. Therefore, John thought he was acting in +accord with the English queen's secret wish when he went to Rutland with +the purpose of being in readiness to meet Mary at the Scottish border. + +There were two elements in Elizabeth's character on which John had not +counted. One was her royal prerogative to speak words she did not mean; +and the other was the universal feminine privilege to change her mind. Our +queen did not want Mary to visit England, nor had she any knowledge of the +plot to induce that event. She did, however, fear that Mary's unwise +friends among the Catholics cherished the purpose of making Mary queen of +England. Although John had heard faint rumors of such a plot, he had been +given to understand that Mary had no share in it, and he believed that the +adventure in which he was about to embark had for its only purpose her +liberation from a cruel and unjust imprisonment. Her cause appealed to +John's chivalrous nature as it appealed to so many other good though +mistaken men who sought to give help to the Scottish queen, and brought +only grief to her and ruin to themselves. + +Dorothy had heard at various times just enough of these plots to fill her +heart with alarm when she learned that John was about to be engaged in +them. Her trouble was twofold. She feared lest personal injury or death +might befall John; and jealousy, that shame of love, gnawed at her heart +despite her efforts to drive it away. + +"Is she so marvellously beautiful?" Dorothy asked of me over and over +again, referring to Mary Stuart. "Is she such a marvel of beauty and +fascination that all men fall before her?" + +"That usually is the result," I replied. "I have never known her to smile +upon a man who did not at once respond by falling upon his knees to her." + +My reply certainly was not comforting. + +"Ah, then, I am lost," she responded, with a tremulous sigh. "Is--is she +prone to smile on men and--and--to grow fond of them?" + +"I should say, Dorothy, that both the smiling and the fondness have become +a habit with her." + +"Then she will be sure to choose John from among all men. He is so +glorious and perfect and beautiful that she will be eager to--to--O God! I +wish he had not gone to fetch her." + +"You need have no fear," I said reassuringly. "While Mary Stuart is +marvellously beautiful and fascinating, there is at least one woman who +excels her. Above all, that woman is pure and chaste." + +"Who is she, that one woman, Malcolm? Who is she?" asked the girl, leaning +forward in her chair and looking at me eagerly with burning eyes. + +"You are already a vain girl, Dorothy, and I shall not tell you who that +one woman is," I answered laughingly. + +"No, no, Malcolm, I am not vain in this matter. It is of too great moment +to me for the petty vice of vanity to have any part in it. You do not +understand me. I care not for my beauty, save for his sake. I long to be +more beautiful, more fascinating, and more attractive than she--than any +woman living--only because I long to hold John--to keep him from her, from +all others. I have seen so little of the world that I must be sadly +lacking in those arts which please men, and I long to possess the beauty +of the angels, and the fascinations of Satan that I may hold John, hold +him, hold him, hold him. That I may hold him so sure and fast that it will +be impossible for him to break from me. At times, I almost wish he were +blind; then he could see no other woman. Ah, am I not a wicked, selfish +girl? But I will not allow myself to become jealous. He is all mine, isn't +he, Malcolm?" She spoke with nervous energy, and tears were ready to +spring from her eyes. + +"He is all yours, Dorothy," I answered, "all yours, as surely as that +death will some day come to all of us. Promise me, Dorothy, that you will +never again allow a jealous thought to enter your heart. You have no cause +for jealousy, nor will you ever have. If you permit that hateful passion +to take possession of you, it will bring ruin in its wake." + +"It was, indeed, foolish in me," cried Dorothy, springing to her feet and +clasping her hands tightly; "and I promise never again to feel jealousy. +Malcolm, its faintest touch tears and gnaws at my heart and racks me with +agony. But I will drive it out of me. Under its influence I am not +responsible for my acts. It would quickly turn me mad. I promise, oh, I +swear, that I never will allow it to come to me again." + +Poor Dorothy's time of madness was not far distant nor was the evil that +was to follow in its wake. + +John in writing to Dorothy concerning his journey to Scotland had +unhesitatingly intrusted to her keeping his honor, and, unwittingly, his +life. It did not once occur to him that she could, under any conditions, +betray him. I trusted her as John did until I saw her vivid flash of +burning jealousy. But by the light of that flash I saw that should the +girl, with or without reason, become convinced that Mary Stuart was her +rival, she would quickly make Derbyshire the warmest locality in +Christendom, and John's life might pay the cost of her folly. Dorothy +would brook no rival--no, not for a single hour. Should she become jealous +she would at once be swept beyond the influence of reason or the care for +consequences. It were safer to arouse a sleeping devil than Dorothy +Vernon's jealousy. Now about the time of John's journey to the Scottish +border, two matters of importance arose at Haddon Hall. One bore directly +upon Dorothy, namely, the renewal by the Stanleys of their suit for her +hand. The other was the announcement by the queen that she would soon do +Sir George Vernon the honor of spending a fortnight under the roof of +Haddon Hall. Each event was of great importance to the King of the Peak. +He had concluded that Thomas, the man-servant, was not the Earl of +Leicester in disguise, and when the Earl of Derby again came forward with +his marriage project, Sir George fell back into his old hardness toward +Dorothy, and she prepared her armament, offensive and defensive, for +instant use if need should arise. I again began my machinations, since I +can call my double dealing by no other name. I induced Dorothy to agree to +meet the earl and his son James. Without promising positively to marry +Lord Stanley, she, at my suggestion, led her father to believe she was +ready to yield to his wishes. By this course she gained time and liberty, +and kept peace with her father. Since you have seen the evils that war +brought to Haddon, you well know how desirable peace was. In time of war +all Haddon was a field of carnage and unrest. In time of peace the dear +old Hall was an ideal home. I persuaded Sir George not to insist on a +positive promise from Dorothy, and I advised him to allow her yielding +mood to grow upon her. I assured him evasively that she would eventually +succumb to his paternal authority and love. + +What an inherent love we all have for meddling in the affairs of others, +and what a delicious zest we find in faithfully applying our surplus +energies to business that is not strictly our own! I had become a part of +the Sir George-Dorothy-John affair, and I was like the man who caught the +bear: I could not loose my hold. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +PROUD DAYS FOR THE OLD HALL + + +Of course the queen's approaching visit threw Haddon Hall into a frenzy of +scrubbing and furbishing. Aunt Dorothy was the busiest woman in England. +Floors were newly polished. Draperies were taken down and were carefully +washed with mysterious concoctions warranted to remove dirt without injury +to color. Superfine wax was bought in great boxes, and candles were made +for all the chandeliers and candelabra in the house. Perfumed oil was +purchased for the lamp in the state bedroom. Elizabeth, by the way, when +she came, did not like the odor of the oil, and with an oath tossed both +the oil and the lamp out of the window. The fattest sheep, kine, and hogs +were chosen from the flocks and were brought in to be stall-fed in such +numbers that one might have supposed we were expecting an ogress who could +eat an ox at a meal. Pipers and dancers were engaged, and a merry fool was +brought down from London. At last the eventful day came and with it came +our queen. She brought with her a hundred yeomen of her guard and a score +of ladies and gentlemen. Among the latter was the Earl of Leicester, who +was the queen's prime favorite. + +Prior to the queen's announcement of her intention to visit Haddon Sir +George had, with Dorothy's tacit consent, fixed a day upon which the Earl +of Derby and his son, Lord James, should be received at the Hall for the +purpose of signing the marriage contract. Dorothy, of course, had no +intention of signing the contract, but she put off the evil hour of +refusal as far as possible, hoping something might occur in the meantime +to help her out of the dilemma. Something did occur at the last moment. I +am eager to tell you about it, but it must wait its turn. Truly would the +story of this ingenious girl's life make a romance if it were written by a +poet. In her Guinevere and Elaine were moulded into one person with the +tenderness, purity, and fierceness of each. + +To postpone further the time of the Stanley visit, Dorothy suggested that +the betrothal should take place in the presence of the queen. Sir George +acquiesced, and in his heart grew less eager for the Stanley match as +Dorothy apparently became more tractable. He was, however, engaged with +the earl to an extent that forbade withdrawal, even had he been sure that +he wished to withdraw. + +At the time of which I speak the Earl of Leicester was the most exalted +subject of the realm. He was ardently devoted to the cause of the ladies, +and, although he had fixed his hope on Elizabeth and longed for a seat +beside her on the throne, his inflammable heart was constantly catching +fire from other eyes. He, of course, made desperate efforts to conceal +these manifold conflagrations from the queen, but the inflammable tow of +his heart was always bringing him into trouble with his fiery mistress. + +The earl's first glance toward Dorothy was full of admiration. The second +glance was full of conflagration. The second day of the queen's residence +in Haddon I was astonished, grieved, and angered to see that our girl had +turned her powerful batteries upon the earl with the evident purpose of +conquest. At times her long lashes would fall before him, and again her +great luminous eyes would open wide, shedding a soft radiance which no man +could withstand. Once I saw her walking alone with him upon the terrace. +Her head was drooped shamelessly, and the earl was ardent though restless, +being fearful of the queen. I boiled with rage against Dorothy, but by a +strong effort I did not boil over until I had better cause. The better +cause came later. + +I failed to tell you of a brief conversation which occurred between Sir +George and me after my cousin first saw the Earl of Leicester. Sir George +had gallantly led the queen to her apartments, and I had conducted +Leicester and several of the gentlemen to their various rooms. Sir George +and I met at the staircase after we had quitted our guests. + +He said: "Malcolm, that fellow Thomas whom I knocked in the head looked no +more like Leicester than I do. Why did you tell me there was resemblance?" + +"I do not know," I answered. "Perhaps your words suggested the thought of +a resemblance. Perhaps I had lost all memory of Leicester's features. I +cannot answer your question." + +Then an expression of anger came to Sir George's face, and he said:-- + +"I believe Dorothy lied to me when she said that the fellow Thomas was of +noble blood." + +The next day a servant reported that Thomas had been seen loitering near +Bowling Green Gate, and Sir George ordered Dorothy not to leave the Hall +without his permission. + +Dorothy replied to her father's command, "I shall obey you, father." + +To me there was a note of danger in her voice. Such docile submissiveness +was not natural to the girl. Of course all appearance of harshness toward +Dorothy was suppressed by Sir George during the queen's visit to the Hall. +In truth, he had no reason to be harsh, for Dorothy was a meek, +submissive, and obedient daughter. Her meekness, however, as you may well +surmise, was but the forerunner of dire rebellion. + +The fourth day of the queen's presence at Haddon Hall was the one +appointed for the visit of the Stanleys, and Sir George thought to make a +great event of the betrothal by having the queen act as a witness to the +marriage contract. As the day approached Sir George became thoughtful, +while Dorothy grew gleeful. The girl was frequently seen with Leicester, +and Sir George could not help noticing that nobleman's pronounced +admiration for his daughter. These exhibitions of gallantry were never +made in the presence of the queen. The morning of the day when the +Stanleys were expected Sir George called me to his room for a private +consultation. The old gentleman was in a state of excitement, not unmixed +with perplexity and trouble. + +He said, "I have great and good news to impart to you, Malcolm; yet I am +in a dilemma growing out of it." + +"Tell me the good news first, Sir George," I replied. "The dilemma may +wait." + +"Is Doll a very beautiful girl?" he asked eagerly. + +"I believe she is the most beautiful woman in the world," I answered. + +"Good, good," he replied, rubbing his hands. "Is she so fascinating, +brilliant, and attractive, think you--of course I speak in jest--but think +you she might vie with the court ladies for beauty, and think you she +might attract--for the sake of illustration I will say--might she attract +a man like Leicester?" + +"Unless I am much mistaken," I answered, "Leicester is over his ears in +love with the girl now." + +"Ah, do you believe so, Malcolm?" replied Sir George, laughing and +slapping his thigh, as he walked to and fro across the room. "You have +seen so much of that sort of thing that you should know it when it comes +under your nose. Eh, Malcolm, eh?" + +"I should suppose that any one, however inexperienced in such matters, +could easily see Leicester's infatuation for Dorothy. If you wish me to +tell you what I really believe--" + +"I do, I do," interrupted Sir George. + +"I should say," I continued, "that Dorothy has deliberately gone in for +conquest. Leave the girl to herself, Sir George. She can conduct the +campaign without help from any one. She understands the art of such +warfare as well as if she were a veteran." + +"Gad, but she does, but she does. I believe she could give Venus herself +some good points in the matter. But let me tell you, Malcolm,"--the old +man dropped his voice to a whisper,--"I questioned Doll this morning, and +she confessed that Leicester had spoken words of love to her. Would it not +be a great match for our house?" + +He said "our house," mind you, not "our Doll." I might call his condition +of mind patrimonial selfishness. Simple old man! He did not know that +words of love are not necessarily words of marriage. + +"Has Leicester spoken to you?" I asked in alarm for John's sake. + +"No, no, he has not spoken," returned my cousin; "for that, of course, he +must have the queen's consent. But he will speak, I am sure, all in good +time, Malcolm, all in good time." + +"How about the Stanleys?" I asked. "They will be here this afternoon." + +"That's the devil's finger in the matter," cried Sir George. "That's where +my dilemma lies. How shall I put them off, and still retain them in case +nothing should come from Leicester? Besides, I am in honor bound to the +earl." + +"I have a plan," I replied. "You carry out your part of the agreement +with the earl, but let Dorothy, at the last moment, refuse to give her +consent. Let her ask for more time, on the plea that she does not know her +mind. I will suggest to her, if you wish, the part she is to play; but I +will conceal from her the fact that you are a party to it." + +"No," said the old man, "that would be bad faith toward the earl." After a +pause he continued doubtingly: "No, do not speak to Doll. I believe she +needs no suggestions in the matter. I fear that mischief is in her mind +already. Her easy acquiescence in my wishes have of late had a suspicious +appearance. No, don't speak to her, Malcolm. If ever there lived a girl +who could be perverse and wilful on her own account, without help from any +one, it is my girl Doll. God bless you, man, if she but knew that I wanted +her to reject Stanley, she would have him in spite of hell itself. I +wonder what she means by her docility and obedience? No, don't speak a +word to her on the subject. Let her believe I am serious regarding this +marriage, and she will have some plan of her own to raise the devil. I +have been expecting signs of it every day. I had determined not to bear +with her perversity, but now that the Leicester possibility has come up +we'll leave Doll to work out her own salvation, Malcolm. Don't interfere. +No man living can teach that girl a new trick in deviltry. Gods, Malcolm! +I am curious to know what she will be doing, for she certainly will be +doing something rather than sign that contract of betrothal." + +"But suppose out of obedience to you she should sign the contract?" I +asked. + +"Malcolm, you don't know Doll," he replied. Then, after a pause, "Neither +do I. I wish she were well married." + +When I left Sir George, I found Dorothy in close consultation with the +queen and two of her ladies. I heard the name of Lord James Stanley spoken +amid suppressed laughter, and I suspected Dorothy had on foot some prank +touching that young man, to which her Majesty was a party. + +After dinner the Stanleys came a-wooing. The party consisted of father, +son, and four retainers, who looked as if they had been preserved in +alcohol for the occasion, so red were their faces. + +The Earl of Derby was a fine old gentleman of the rural type. His noble +son was an uncouth rustic, who had no thought above a stable boy or tavern +maid, nor any ambition above horse trading. His attire was a wonder to +behold. He wore a ruff of stupendous proportions. His trunks were so +puffed out and preposterous in size that they looked like a great painted +knot on a tree; and the many-colored splendors of his sleeves, his hat, +his hose, and his shoes were dazzling to the eye. Add to this wondrous +raiment feet and hands that could not be satisfactorily disposed of, and +an unrest of manner painful to behold, and you may possibly conceive the +grandiose absurdity of Dorothy's wooer. The sight of him almost made Sir +George ill; and his entrance into the long gallery, where the queen was +seated with her ladies and gentlemen, and Sir George and his friends +standing about her, was a signal for laughter in which her Majesty openly +joined. + +I shall not lead you through the tedious ceremony of presentation and +introduction, nor shall I tell you of the pompous manner in which one of +the earl's retinue, a lawyer, read the marriage contract. The fact that +the contract was read without the presence of Dorothy, whom it so nearly +concerned, was significant of the small consideration which at that time +was given to a girl's consent. When all was ready for the signing, Dorothy +was summoned. + +Sir George stood beside the Stanleys, and his nervousness was painfully +apparent. Two servants opened the great doors at the end of the long +gallery, and Dorothy, holding up the skirt of her gown, bounded into the +room. She kneeled to the queen, and turned toward her uncle Stanley and +her lover-cousin with a low bow. Then she courtesied and said-- + +"Good even, uncle, and how do you do, cousin. Have you come to inspect me, +and, perchance, to buy?" + +Sir George's face bore an expression of mingled shame, wonder, and alarm, +and the queen and her suite laughed behind their fans. + +"It is well," continued Dorothy. "Here am I, ready for inspection." +Thereupon she began to disrobe herself before the entire company. +Leicester laughed outright, and the queen and her ladies suppressed their +merriment for a moment, and then sent forth peals of laughter without +restraint. Sir George stepped toward the girl and raised his hand +warningly, but the queen interposed:-- + +"Silence, Sir George, I command you;" and Sir George retreated to his +former place beside the Earl of Derby. Dorothy first removed her bodice, +showing her shoulders and a part of her arms, clothed in the fashion of a +tavern maid. + +Leicester, who stood by me, whispered, "God never made anything more +beautiful than Mistress Vernon's arms." + +Sir George again spoke angrily, "Doll, what are you doing?" But the queen +by a wave of her hand commanded silence. Then the girl put her hands +behind her, and loosened the belt which held her skirt in place. The skirt +fell to the floor, and out of it bounded Dorothy in the short gown of a +maid. + +"You will be better able to judge of me in this costume, cousin," said +Dorothy. "It will be more familiar to you than the gowns which ladies +wear." + +"I will retract," said Leicester, whispering to me, and gazing ardently +at Dorothy's ankles. "God has made something more beautiful than Mistress +Vernon's arms. By Venus! I suppose that in His omnipotence He might be +able to create something more beautiful than her ankles, but up to this +time He has not vouchsafed to me a vision of it. Ah! did any one ever +behold such strength, such perfect symmetry, such--St. George! the gypsy +doesn't live who can dance like that." + +Sure enough, Dorothy was dancing. The pipers in the balcony had burst +forth in a ribald jig of a tune, and the girl was whirling in a wild, +weird, and wondrous dance before her lover-cousin. Sir George ordered the +pipers to cease playing; but again Elizabeth, who was filled with mirth, +interrupted, and the music pealed forth in wanton volumes which flooded +the gallery. Dorothy danced like an elfin gypsy to the inspiring strains. +Soon her dance changed to wondrous imitations of the movements of a horse. +She walked sedately around in an ever increasing circle; she trotted and +paced; she gave the single foot and racked; she galloped, slowly for a +while, and then the gallop merged into a furious run which sent the blood +of her audience thrilling through their veins with delight. The wondrous +ease and grace, and the marvellous strength and quickness of her +movements, cannot be described. I had never before thought the human body +capable of such grace and agility as she displayed. + +After her dance was finished she stepped in front of her cousin and +delivered herself as follows:-- + +"I am sound from ear tip to fetlock. There is not a blemish in me." + +"No, by my faith, I will swear there is not!" cried the Earl of Leicester. + +"I have good wind," continued Dorothy, "two good eyes. By night or by day +I can see everything within the range of my vision, and a great deal that +is not. I shy, at times, when an uncouth object suddenly comes upon me. I +am warranted gentle if properly handled, but otherwise it is unsafe to +curry my heels." + +Sir George could no longer restrain himself, and again tried to prevent +Dorothy from proceeding with her terrible insult to the Stanleys. The +queen, however, was determined to see the end of the frolic, and she +said:-- + +"Proceed, Mistress Vernon, proceed." + +Dorothy, nothing loath, continued: "As for my disposition, it might be +better. It probably will improve with age, if it doesn't grow worse. I +have all the gaits a horse should have. I am four years old, I have never +been trained to work double, and I think I never shall be. What think you? +Now what have you to offer in exchange? Step out and let me see you move." + +She took the poor youth by the hand and led him to the middle of the +floor. + +"How old are you? Show me your teeth," she said. The heir to Derby smiled +uneasily, and drew his hand across his nose. + +"Ah, you have a touch of the distemper, I see. Are you subject to it?" + +Stanley smiled, and the earl said:-- + +"Sir George, this insult has gone far enough." + +"Stand back, my Lord Derby," said the queen. "Do not interfere with this +interesting barter." + +The earl reluctantly lapsed into silence. He remembered the insult of her +Majesty's words all his life. + +"Now step off," said Dorothy to Lord James. + +The young man stood in helpless confusion. Dorothy took a step backward +from him, and after watching Stanley a moment said:-- + +"What! You can neither trot, pace, nor gallop? I don't believe you can +even walk alone." Then she turned toward Sir George. A smile was on her +lips, but a look from hell was in her eyes as she said:-- + +"Father, take a lesson from this day. I gave you fair warning. Bring me no +more scurvy cobs for barter nor trade." Then she turned to the Earl of +Derby and to her cousin Lord James, made a deep courtesy, and said:-- + +"You can have no barter with me. Good day." + +She ran from the room, and a great peal of laughter from all save Sir +George and the Stanleys followed her as she passed out through the double +door. When the laughter had subsided, the Earl of Derby turned to Sir +George and said:-- + +"Sir George, this insult is unbearable, and I shall expect satisfaction +for it." Then he turned to the queen: "I beg that your Majesty will give +me leave to depart with my son." + +"Granted," answered Elizabeth, and father and son started to leave the +room, moving backward toward the great doors. Sir George asked the earl +and Lord Stanley to remain, and in the presence of the company who had +witnessed the insult, he in the humblest manner made abject apology for +the treatment his distinguished guests had received at the hands of his +daughter. He very honestly and in all truth disclaimed any sympathy with +Dorothy's conduct, and offered, as the only reparation he could make, to +punish her in some way befitting the offence. Then he conducted the guests +to the mounting block near the entrance tower and saw them depart. Dorothy +had solved her father's dilemma with a vengeance. + +Sir George was not sure that he wanted to be angry at Dorothy, though he +felt it was a duty he owed to himself and to the Stanleys. He had wished +that the girl would in some manner defer the signing of the contract, but +he had not wanted her to refuse young Stanley's hand in a manner so +insulting that the match would be broken off altogether. + +As the day progressed, and as Sir George pondered over Dorothy's conduct, +he grew more inclined to anger; but during the afternoon she kept well +under the queen's wing, and he found no opportunity to give vent to his +ill-temper. + +Late that night he called me to his room. He had been drinking during the +evening and was poised between good-humored hilarity and ill-tempered +ferocity. The latter condition was usually the result of his libations. +When I entered the room it was evident he was amused. + +"Did you ever hear or see such brazen effrontery?" he asked, referring to +Dorothy's treatment of the Stanleys. "Is there another girl on earth who +would have conceived the absurd thought, or, having conceived it, would +have dared to carry it out?" + +I took a chair and replied, "I think there is not another." + +"I hope not," continued Sir George. He sat in thought for a moment, and +then broke forth into a great laugh. When he had finished laughing he +said: "I admit it was laughable and--and pretty--beautiful. Damme, I +didn't know the girl could do it, Malcolm! I didn't know she had it in +her. There is not another girl living could have carried the frolic +through." Then he spoke seriously, "But I will make her smart for it when +the queen leaves Haddon." + +"Sir George, if you will allow me to suggest what I feel on the subject, I +would say that you have no reason whatever for desiring to make Dorothy +smart. She may have deeper designs than we can see." + +"What designs do you suppose she can have? Tell me, Malcolm," asked Sir +George. + +I remained silent for a moment, hardly knowing how to express my thought. +"Certainly she could not have appeared to a better advantage than in her +tavern maid's costume," I said. + +"That is true," answered Sir George. "Though she is my own daughter, I +must admit that I have never seen any woman so beautiful as she." The old +gentleman laughed softly for a moment and said: "But wasn't it brazen? +Wasn't it shameless? I have always given the girl credit for modesty, +but--damme, damme--" + +"Her beauty in the tavern maid's costume fired Leicester's heart as +nothing else could have done," I said. "He stood by my side, and was in +raptures over her charms." + +Sir George mused a moment and said something about the "Leicester +possibility," which I knew to be an impossibility, and before I left him +he had determined to allow the matter to drop for the present. "I am +making a damned pretty mess of the whole affair, I fear, Malcolm," he +said. + +"You don't seem to be clearing it up, Sir George," I responded. + +After talking over some arrangements for the queen's entertainment, I said +good night, and left my cousin brooding over as complicated a problem as +man ever tried to solve. + +The next morning I told Dorothy how her father felt with respect to the +"Leicester possibility." She laughed and said:-- + +"I will encourage father in that matter, and," with a saucy twinkle in her +eye, "incidentally I will not discourage my proud lord of Leicester. I +will make the most of the situation, fear not, Malcolm." + +"I do not fear," said I, emphatically. + +There it was: the full-blown spirit of conquest, strong even in a +love-full heart. God breathed into Adam the breath of life; but into Eve +he breathed the love of conquest, and it has been growing stronger in the +hearts of her daughters with each recurring generation. + +"How about John?" I asked. + +"Oh, John?" she answered, throwing her head contemplatively to one side. +"He is amply able to protect his own interests. I could not be really +untrue to him if I wished to be. It is I who am troubled on the score of +infidelity. John will be with the most beautiful queen--" She broke off in +the midst of her sentence, and her face became clouded with an expression +of anger and hatred. "God curse her! I wish she were dead, dead, dead. +There! you know how I feel toward your English-French-Scottish beauty. +Curse the mongrel--" She halted before the ugly word she was about to use; +but her eyes were like glowing embers, and her cheeks were flushed by the +heat of anger. + +"Did you not promise me, Dorothy, that you would not again allow yourself +to become jealous of Queen Mary?" I asked. + +"Yes, I promised, but I cannot prevent the jealousy, and I do not intend +to try. I hate her, and I love to hate her." + +"Why should you hate her?" I asked. "If John remains true to you, there is +certainly no cause for you to hate any one. If he should be untrue to you, +you should hate him." + +"Hate him?" she exclaimed. "That, indeed, is pretty reasoning. If he +should be untrue to me, I should of course hate her. I could not hate him. +I did not make myself love him. I would never have been so great a fool as +to bring that pain upon myself intentionally. I suppose no girl would +deliberately make herself love a man and bring into her heart so great an +agony. I feel toward John as I do, because I must; and I hate your +Scottish mongrel because I must. I tell you, Malcolm, when she comes to +Rutland, if I hear of her trying any of her wanton tricks on John there +will be trouble--mark my words!" + +"I ask you to promise me this, Dorothy: that you will do nothing +concerning John and Queen Mary without first speaking to me." + +She paced across the room angrily. "I promise you nothing, Malcolm, save +that I shall not allow that woman to come between John and me. That I +promise you, on my oath." + +Dorothy continued to shed her luminous smiles on Leicester, though she was +careful not to shine in the queen's presence. My lord was dazzled by the +smiles, and continually sought opportunities to bask in their dangerous +light. As a result of this smiling and basking the great London +heart-breaker was soon helplessly caught in the toils of Doll, the country +maiden. She played him as an angler plays a trout. The most experienced +court coquette could not have done the part better than did this girl, +whose knowledge of the subject was wholly intuitive, for her life had all +been spent amid the green hills and groves of Derbyshire. She so managed +the affair that her father should see enough of Leicester's preference to +keep alive in Sir George's mind the hope for the "Leicester possibility." +Those words had become with her a phrase slyly to play upon. + +One afternoon when the sun was graciously warm and bright, I induced Madge +to walk with me upon the terrace, that I might for a few moments feel the +touch of her hand and hear her whispered words. We took a seat by a large +holly bush, which effectually concealed us from view. We had been there +but a few moments when we heard footsteps approaching. Looking between the +branches of the holly bush I saw Dorothy and Leicester coming toward us +from the north end of the terrace. Dorothy's eyes were cast down demurely, +and her head hung in the attitude of a shy, modest girl, who listens +timidly to words that are music in her ears. Never have I seen an attitude +more indicative of the receptive mood than that which Dorothy assumed +toward Leicester. + +"Ah," thought I, "poor John has given his heart and has risked his life +for the sake of Doll, and Doll is a miserable coquette." + +But there was conduct still more objectionable to come from Dorothy. + +Unconscious of our presence, Leicester said, "My fair beauty, my Venus, +here is a settle under this holly bush, well hidden from prying eyes. It +invites us. Will you sit here with me for one happy moment, and give me a +taste of Paradise?" + +"I fear I should not sit with you, my lord, however much I--may--may wish +to do so. My father or the queen might observe us." The black lashes fell +upon the fair cheek, and the red golden head with its crown of glory hung +forward convincingly. + +"You false jade," thought I. + +"I ask for but one moment," pleaded Leicester. "The queen sleeps at this +time after dinner, and perhaps your father would not object if you were to +grant this little favor to the first nobleman of the realm." + +"You do not know my father, my lord. He is very strict regarding my +conduct," murmured the drooping head. + +"I ask for but one little moment," continued the earl, "in which to tell +you that you have filled my heart with adoration and love." + +"I should not listen to you, my lord. Were I mindful of my happiness, I +should return to the Hall at once," said the drooping lashes and hanging +head. + +"You lying wench," thought I. By that time I was thoroughly angered. + +"Only one little moment on the settle," pleaded Leicester, "that I may +speak to you that which I wish so ardently to say." + +"Can you not speak while we walk, my lord?" asked Dorothy. + +I felt a bitter desire to curse the girl. + +"It is difficult for me to speak while we walk," said Leicester, +cautiously taking the girl's hand; so she permitted him to lead her to the +settle under the holly bush, on the opposite side of which Madge and I +were sitting. + +The earl retained the hand for a moment after he and Dorothy were seated, +but she gently drew it away and moved a little distance from his Lordship. +Still, her eyes were drooped, her head hung low, and her bosom actually +heaved as if with emotion. + +"I will tell John of your shamelessness," I said to myself. "He shall feel +no more heartaches for you--you wanton huzzy." + +Then Leicester poured forth his passion most eloquently. Poesy, verse, and +rhetoric all came to help him in his wooing. Now and then the girl would +respond to his ardor with "Please, my lord," or "I pray you, my lord," and +when he would try to take her hand she would say, "I beg you, my lord, do +not." But Leicester evidently thought that the "do not" meant "do," for +soon he began to steal his arm about her waist, and she was so slow in +stopping him that I thought she was going to submit. She, however, arose +gently to her feet and said:-- + +"My lord, I must return to the Hall. I may not longer remain here with +you." + +The earl caught her hand and endeavored to kiss it, but she adroitly +prevented him, and stepping out into the path, started slowly toward the +Hall. She turned her head slightly toward Leicester in a mute but eloquent +invitation, and he quickly followed her. + +I watched the pair walk up the terrace. They descended the steps to the +garden, and from thence they entered the Hall by way of the porch. + +"Was it not very wicked in Dorothy to listen to such words from +Leicester?" asked Madge. "I do not at all understand her." + +Madge, of course, knew only a part of what had happened, and a very small +part at that, for she had not seen Dorothy. Madge and I returned to the +Hall, and we went at once to Dorothy's room, hoping to see her, and +intending to tell her our opinion of the shameless manner in which she had +acted. + +Dorothy was in her room alone when we entered. She clapped her hands, ran +to the door, bolted it, and bounded back toward us. + +"I have the greatest news to tell you," she cried laughingly,--"the +greatest news and the greatest sport of which you ever heard. My lord +Leicester is in love with me." + +"Indeed, that is very fine," I responded; but my irony met its usual fate. +She did not see it. + +"Yes," continued Dorothy, brimming over with mirth, "you should have heard +him pleading with me a few moments since upon the terrace." + +"We did hear him," said Madge. + +"You heard him? Where? How?" Her eyes were wide with wonder. + +"We were on the opposite side of the holly bush from you," I answered. "We +heard him and we saw you." + +"Did you? Good. I am glad of it," said Dorothy. + +"Yes, we saw and we heard all, and we think that your conduct was +shameless," I responded severely. + +"Shameless?" demanded Dorothy. "Now pray tell me what I did or said that +was shameless.". + +I was at a loss to define the wrong in her conduct, for it had been of an +intangible quality which in itself was nothing, but notwithstanding meant +a great deal. + +"You permitted him to hold your hand," I said, trying to fix on something +real with which to accuse her. + +"I did nothing of the sort," said Dorothy, laughingly. "He caught my hand +several times, but I withdrew it from him" + +I knew she spoke the truth regarding her hand, so I tried again. + +"You--you hung your head and kept your eyes cast down, and you looked--" + +"Oh, I hung my head, I cast down my eyes, and I looked?" she answered, +laughing heartily. "Pray let me ask you, Master Fault-finder, for what use +else are heads and eyes made?" + +I was not prepared to say that the uses to which Dorothy had put her head +and eyes were not some of the purposes for which they were created. They +are good purposes, too, I admit, although I would not have conceded as +much to Dorothy. I knew the girl would soon wheedle me into her way of +thinking, so I took a bold stand and said:-- + +"It is my intention to tell John about your conduct with Leicester, and I +shall learn for what purpose he thinks eyes and heads are created." + +"Tell John?" cried Dorothy. "Of course you may tell John. He well knows +the purposes of heads and eyes, and their proper uses. He has told me many +times his opinion on the subject." She laughed for a moment, and then +continued: "I, too, shall tell John all that happened or shall happen +between Lord Leicester and me. I wish I could tell him now. How I wish I +could tell him now." A soft light came to her eyes, and she repeated +huskily: "If I might tell him now; if I might tell him now. Why, Malcolm, +I despise Leicester. He is a poor, weak fool. He has no more force nor +strength than I have. He is not a man. He is no more attractive than a +woman. He wanted to kiss me. He begged me to give him but one. It is but a +poor kiss which a man gets by begging. Think you I would give him one? Had +he but touched my lips, think you I would ever allow John to soil himself +again by kissing them? Fear not, Malcolm. Fear not for John nor for me. +No man will ever receive from me a favor, the granting of which would make +me unfit to be John's--John's wife. I have paid too dearly for him to +throw him away for a penny whistle that I do not want." Then she grew +earnest, with a touch of anger: "Leicester! What reason, suppose you, +Malcolm, have I for treating him as I do? Think you I act from sheer +wantonness? If there were one little spot of that fault upon my soul, I +would tear myself from John, though I should die for it." + +Her laughing mood had passed away, and I feared to say that I could see no +reason other than coquetry for her conduct, I feared the red-haired +tigress would scratch my eyes out. + +"I have wanted to see you," she continued, "that I might tell you of my +plans and of the way they are working out, but now since you have spoken +to me in this manner, Sir Malcolm François de Lorraine Vernon, I shall +tell you nothing. You suspect me. Therefore, you shall wait with the rest +of the world to learn my purposes. You may tell John all you have seen and +heard. I care not how quickly you do it." Then with a sigh: "I pray God it +may be very soon. He will wish for no explanation, and he shall one day +have in me a rich reward for his faith." + +"Do you trust him as he trusts you?" I asked, "and would you demand an +explanation were he to act toward Mary Stuart as you have acted toward +Leicester?" + +"He could not act toward her as I did toward Lord Leicester," she said +thoughtfully. Then after a moment she laughingly continued: "John +can't--he can't hang his head and--droop his eyes and look." + +"But if--" I began. + +"I want no more of your hellish 'ifs,'" cried the girl in sudden fury. "If +John were to--to look at that Scottish mongrel as I looked at Leicester, I +would--I would kill the royal wanton. I would kill her if it cost my +life. Now, for God's sake, leave me. You see the state into which you +have wrought me." I left Madge with Dorothy and walked out upon Bowling +Green to ponder on the events that were passing before me. + +From the time we learned that John had gone to fetch the Scottish queen I +had fears lest Dorothy's inflammable jealousy might cause trouble, and now +those fears were rapidly transforming themselves into a feeling of +certainty. There is nothing in life so sweet and so dangerous as the love +of a hot-blooded woman. + +I soon saw Dorothy again. "Tell me," said I, in conciliation, "tell me, +please, what is your reason for acting as you do toward Leicester, and why +should you look differently upon similar conduct on John's part?" + +"I will not tell you my plans," she responded,--"not now, at least. +Perhaps I shall do so when I have recovered from my ill-temper. It is hard +for me to give my reasons for feeling differently about like conduct on +John's part. Perhaps I feel as I do because--because--It is this way: +While I might do little things--mere nothings--such as I have done--it +would be impossible for me to do any act of unfaithfulness to John. Oh, it +could not be. But with him, he--he--well, he is a man and--and--oh, don't +talk to me! Don't talk to me! You are driving me mad. Out of my sight! Out +of my room! Holy Virgin! I shall die before I have him; I know I shall." + +There it was again. The thought of Mary Stuart drove her wild. Dorothy +threw herself on her face upon the bed, and Madge went over and sat by her +side to soothe her. I, with a feeling of guilt, so adroit had been +Dorothy's defence, left the girls and went to my room in the tower to +unravel, by the help of my pipe, the tangled web of woman's +incomprehensibility. I failed, as many another man had failed before me, +and as men will continue to fail to the end of time. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +MARY STUART + + +And now I come to an event in this history which I find difficult to place +before you in its true light. For Dorothy's sake I wish I might omit it +altogether. But in true justice to her and for the purpose of making you +see clearly the enormity of her fault and the palliating excuses therefor, +if any there were, I shall pause briefly to show the condition of affairs +at the time of which I am about to write--a time when Dorothy's madness +brought us to the most terrible straits and plunged us into deepest +tribulations. + +Although I have been unable to show you as much of John as I have wished +you to see, you nevertheless must know that he, whose nature was not like +the shallow brook but was rather of the quality of a deep, slow-moving +river, had caught from Dorothy an infection of love from which he would +never recover. His soul was steeped in the delicious essence of the girl. +I would also call your attention to the conditions under which his passion +for Dorothy had arisen. It is true he received the shaft when first he saw +her at the Royal Arms in Derby-town, but the shaft had come from Dorothy's +eyes. Afterward she certainly had done her full part in the wooing. It was +for her sake, after she had drawn him on to love her, that he became a +servant in Haddon Hall. For her sake he faced death at the hands of her +father. And it was through her mad fault that the evil came upon him of +which I shall now tell you. That she paid for her fault in suffering does +not excuse her, since pain is but the latter half of evil. + +During the term of Elizabeth's residence in Haddon Hall John returned to +Rutland with Queen Mary Stuart, whose escape from Lochleven had excited +all England. The country was full of rumors that Mary was coming to +England not so much for sanctuary as to be on the ground ready to accept +the English crown when her opportunity to do so should occur. The +Catholics, a large and powerful party, flushed with their triumphs under +the "Bloody Queen," were believed to sympathize with Mary's cause. +Although Elizabeth said little on the subject, she felt deeply, and she +feared trouble should the Scottish queen enter her dominion. Another cause +of annoyance to Elizabeth was the memory that Leicester had once been +deeply impressed with Mary's charms, and had sought her hand in marriage. +Elizabeth's prohibition alone had prevented the match. That thought +rankled in Elizabeth's heart, and she hated Mary, although her hatred, as +in all other cases, was tempered with justice and mercy. This great queen +had the brain of a man with its motives, and the heart of a woman with its +emotions. + +When news of Mary's escape reached London, Cecil came in great haste to +Haddon. During a consultation with Elizabeth he advised her to seize Mary, +should she enter England, and to check the plots made in Mary's behalf by +executing the principal friends of the Scottish queen. He insistently +demanded that Elizabeth should keep Mary under lock and key, should she be +so fortunate as to obtain possession of her person, and that the men who +were instrumental in bringing her into England should be arraigned for +high treason. + +John certainly had been instrumental in bringing her into England, and if +Cecil's advice were taken by the queen, John's head would pay the forfeit +for his chivalric help to Mary. + +Elizabeth was loath to act on this advice, but Cecil worked upon her fears +and jealousies until her mind and her heart were in accord, and she gave +secret orders that his advice should be carried out. Troops were sent to +the Scottish border to watch for the coming of the fugitive queen. But +Mary was already ensconced, safely, as she thought, in Rutland Castle +under the assumed name of Lady Blanche. Her presence at Rutland was, of +course, guarded as a great secret. + +Dorothy's mind dwelt frequently upon the fact that John and the beautiful +young Scottish queen lived under the same roof, for John had written to +Dorothy immediately after his return. Nothing so propagates itself as +jealousy. There were in Haddon Hall two hearts in which this +self-propagating process was rapidly progressing--Elizabeth's and +Dorothy's. Each had for the cause of her jealousy the same woman. + +One night, soon after Cecil had obtained from Elizabeth the order for +Mary's arrest, Dorothy, on retiring to her room at a late hour found +Jennie Faxton waiting for her with a precious letter from John. Dorothy +drank in the tenderness of John's letter as the thirsty earth absorbs the +rain; but her joy was neutralized by frequent references to the woman who +she feared might become her rival. One-half of what she feared, she was +sure had been accomplished: that is, Mary's half. She knew in her heart +that the young queen would certainly grow fond of John. That was a +foregone conclusion. No woman could be with him and escape that fate, +thought Dorothy. Her hope as to the other half--John's part--rested solely +upon her faith in John, which was really great, and her confidence in her +own charms and in her own power to hold him, which in truth, and with good +reason, was not small, Dorothy went to bed, and Jennie, following her +usual custom, when at Haddon, lay upon the floor in the same room. John's +letter, with all its tenderness, had thrown Dorothy into an inquisitive +frame of mind. After an hour or two of restless tossing upon the bed she +fell asleep, but soon after midnight she awakened, and in her drowsy +condition the devil himself played upon the strings of her dream-charged +imagination. After a time she sprang from the bed, lighted a candle at the +rush light, and read John's letter in a tremor of dream-wrought fear. Then +she aroused Jennie Faxton and asked:-- + +"When were you at Rutland?" + +"I spent yesterday and to-day there, mistress," answered Jennie. + +"Did you see a strange lady?" asked Dorothy. + +"Oh, yes, mistress, I did see her three or four times," answered Jennie. +"Lady Blanche is her name, and she be a cousin of Sir John's. She do come, +they say, from France, and do speak only in the tongue of that country." + +"I--I suppose that this--this Lady Blanche and--and Sir John are very good +friends? Did you--did you--often see them together?" asked Dorothy. She +felt guilty in questioning Jennie for the purpose of spying upon her +lover. She knew that John would not pry into her conduct. + +"Indeed, yes, mistress," returned Jennie, who admired John greatly from +her lowly sphere, and who for her own sake as well as Dorothy's was +jealous of Queen Mary. "They do walk together a great deal on the +ramparts, and the white snaky lady do look up into Sir John's face like +this"--here Jennie assumed a lovelorn expression. "And--and once, +mistress, I thought--I thought--" + +"Yes, yes, Jesu!" hissed Dorothy, clutching Jennie by the arm, "you +thought, you thought. Tell me! Tell me! What in hell's name did you think? +Speak quickly, wench." + +"I be not sure, mistress, but I thought I saw his arm about her waist one +evening on the ramparts. It was dark, and for sure I could not tell, +but--" + +"God's curse upon the white huzzy!" screamed Dorothy. "God's curse upon +her! She is stealing him from me, and I am helpless." + +She clasped her hands over the top of her head and ran to and fro across +the room uttering inarticulate cries of agony. Then she sat upon the +bedside and threw herself into Madge's arms, crying under her breath: "My +God! My God! Think of it, Madge. I have given him my heart, my soul, O +merciful God, my love--all that I have worth giving, and now comes this +white wretch, and because she is a queen and was sired in hell she tries +to steal him from me and coaxes him to put his arm around her waist." + +"Don't feel that way about it, Dorothy," said Madge, soothingly. "I know +Sir John can explain it all to you when you see him. He is true to you, I +am sure." + +"True to me, Madge! How can he be true to me if she coaxes him to woo her +and if he puts his arm--I am losing him; I know it. I--I--O God, Madge, I +am smothering; I am strangling! Holy Virgin! I believe I am about to die." +She threw herself upon the bed by Madge's side, clutching her throat and +breast, and her grand woman's form tossed and struggled as if she were in +convulsions. + +"Holy mother!" she cried, "take this frightful agony from my breast. +Snatch this terrible love from my heart. God! If you have pity, give it +now. Help me! Help me! Ah, how deeply I love. I never loved him so much as +I do at this awful moment. Save me from doing that which is in my heart. +If I could have him for only one little portion of a minute. But that is +denied me whose right it is, and is given to her who has no right. Ah, +God is not just. If he were he would strike her dead. I hate her and I +hate--hate him." + +She arose to a sitting posture on the edge of the bed and held out her +arms toward Madge. + +"Madge," she continued, frenzied by the thought, "his arm was around her +waist. That was early in the evening. Holy Virgin! What may be happening +now?" + +Dorothy sprang from the bed and staggered about the room with her hands +upon her throbbing temples. + +"I cannot bear this agony. God give me strength." Soon she began to gasp +for breath. "I can--see--them now--together, together. I hate her; I hate +him. My love has turned bitter. What can I do? What can I do? I will do +it. I will. I will disturb their sweet rest. If I cannot have him, she +shall not. I'll tell the queen, I'll tell the queen." + +Dorothy acted on her resolution the moment it was taken, and at once began +to unbolt the door. + +"Stay, Dorothy, stay!" cried Madge. "Think on what you are about to do. It +will cost John his life. Come to me for one moment, Dorothy, I pray you." +Madge arose from the bed and began groping her way toward Dorothy, who was +unbolting the door. + +Madge could have calmed the tempest-tossed sea as easily as she could have +induced Dorothy to pause in her mad frenzy. Jennie Faxton, almost +paralyzed by fear of the storm she had raised, stood in the corner of the +room trembling and speechless. Dorothy was out of the room before poor +blind Madge could reach her. The frenzied girl was dressed only in her +night robes and her glorious hair hung dishevelled down to her waist. She +ran through the rooms of Lady Crawford and those occupied by her father +and the retainers. Then she sped down the long gallery and up the steps to +Elizabeth's apartment. + +She knocked violently at the queen's door. + +"Who comes?" demanded one of her Majesty's ladies. + +"I, Dorothy," was the response. "I wish to speak to her Majesty at once +upon a matter of great importance to her." + +Elizabeth ordered her ladies to admit Dorothy, and the girl ran to the +queen, who had half arisen in her bed. + +"You must have affairs of great moment, indeed," cried Elizabeth, testily, +"if they induce you to disturb me in this manner." + +"Of great moment, indeed, your Majesty," replied Dorothy, endeavoring to +be calm, "of moment to you and to me. Mary Stuart is in England at this +instant trying to steal your crown and my lover. She is now sleeping +within five leagues of this place. God only knows what she is doing. Let +us waste no time, your Majesty." + +The girl was growing wilder every second. + +"Let us go--you and I--and seize this wanton creature. You to save your +crown; I to save my lover and--my life." + +"Where is she?" demanded Elizabeth, sharply. "Cease prattling about your +lover. She would steal both my lover and my crown if she could. Where is +she?" + +"She is at Rutland Castle, your Majesty," answered Dorothy. + +"Ah, the Duke of Rutland and his son John," said Elizabeth. "I have been +warned of them. Send for my Lord Cecil and Sir William St. Loe." + +Sir William was in command of the yeoman guards. + +"Is Sir John Manners your lover?" asked Elizabeth, turning to Dorothy. + +"Yes," answered the girl. + +"You may soon seek another," replied the queen, significantly. + +Her Majesty's words seemed to awaken Dorothy from her stupor of frenzy, +and she foresaw the result of her act. Then came upon her a reaction worse +than death. + +"You may depart," said the queen to Dorothy, and the girl went back to +her room hardly conscious that she was moving. + +At times we cannot help feeling that love came to the human breast through +a drop of venom shot from the serpent's tongue into the heart of Eve. +Again we believe it to be a spark from God's own soul. Who will solve me +this riddle? + +Soon the hard, cold ringing of arms, and the tramp of mailed feet +resounded through Haddon Hall, and the doom-like din reached Dorothy's +room in the tones of a clanging knell. There seemed to be a frightful +rhythm in the chaos of sounds which repeated over and over again the +words: "John will die, John will die," though the full import of her act +and its results did nor for a little time entirely penetrate her +consciousness. She remembered the queen's words, "You may soon seek +another." Elizabeth plainly meant that John was a traitor, and that John +would die for his treason. The clanking words, "John will die, John will +die," bore upon the girl's ears in ever increasing volume until the agony +she suffered deadened her power to think. She wandered aimlessly about the +room, trying to collect her senses, but her mind was a blank. After a few +minutes she ran back to the queen, having an undefined purpose of doing +something to avert the consequences of her mad act. She at first thought +to tell the queen that the information she had given concerning Mary +Stuart's presence in Rutland was false, but she well knew that a lie +seldom succeeds; and in this case, even through her clouded mentality, she +could see that a lie would surely fail. She determined to beg the queen to +spare John's life. She did not know exactly what she would do, but she +hoped by the time she should reach the queen's room to hit upon some plan +that would save him. When she knocked at Elizabeth's door it was locked +against her. Her Majesty was in consultation with Cecil, Sir William St. +Loe, and a few other gentlemen, among whom was Sir George Vernon. + +Dorothy well knew there was no help for John if her father were of the +queen's council. She insisted upon seeing the queen, but was rudely +repulsed. By the time she again reached her room full consciousness had +returned, and agony such as she had never before dreamed of overwhelmed +her soul. Many of us have felt the same sort of pain when awakened +suddenly to the fact that words we have spoken easily may not, by our +utmost efforts, be recalled, though we would gladly give our life itself +to have them back. If suffering can atone for sin, Dorothy bought her +indulgence within one hour after sinning. But suffering cannot atone for +sin; it is only a part of it--the result. + +"Arise, Madge, and dress," said Dorothy, gently. "I have made a terrible +mistake. I have committed a frightful crime. I have betrayed John to +death. Ah, help me, Madge, if you can. Pray God to help me. He will listen +to you. I fear to pray to Him. He would turn my prayers to curses. I am +lost." She fell for a moment upon the bed and placed her head on Madge's +breast murmuring, "If I could but die." + +"All may turn out better than it now appears," said Madge. "Quiet yourself +and let us consider what may be done to arrest the evil of your--your +act." + +"Nothing can be done, nothing," wailed Dorothy, as she arose from the bed +and began to dress. "Please arise, Madge, and dress yourself. Here are +your garments and your gown." + +They hastily dressed without speaking, and Dorothy began again to pace the +floor. + +"He will die hating me," said Dorothy. "If he could live I willingly would +give him to the--the Scottish woman. Then I could die and my suffering +would cease. I must have been mad when I went to the queen. He trusted me +with his honor and his life, and I, traitress that I am, have betrayed +both. Ah, well, when he dies I also shall die. There is comfort at least +in that thought. How helpless I am." + +She could not weep. It seemed as if there were not a tear in her. All was +hard, dry, burning agony. She again fell upon the bed and moaned piteously +for a little time, wringing her hands and uttering frantic ejaculatory +prayers for help. + +"My mind seems to have forsaken me," she said hoarsely to Madge. "I cannot +think. What noise is that?" + +She paused and listened for a moment. Then she went to the north window +and opened the casement. + +"The yeoman guards from Bakewell are coming," she said. "I recognize them +by the light of their flambeaux. They are entering the gate at the +dove-cote." + +A part of the queen's guard had been quartered in the village of Bakewell. + +Dorothy stood at the window for a moment and said: "The other guards are +here under our window and are ready to march to Rutland. There is Lord +Cecil, and Sir William St. Loe, and Malcolm, and there is my father. Now +they are off to meet the other yeomen at the dove-cote. The stable boys +are lighting their torches and flambeaux. They are going to murder John, +and I have sent them." + +Dorothy covered her face with her hands and slowly walked to and fro +across the room. + +"Call Malcolm," said Madge. "Perhaps he can help us. Lead me to the +window, Dorothy, and I will call him." Dorothy led Madge to the window, +and above the din of arms I heard her soft voice calling, "Malcolm, +Malcolm." + +The order to march had been given before Madge called, but I sought Sir +William and told him I would return to the Hall to get another sword and +would soon overtake him on the road to Rutland. + +I then hastened to Dorothy's room. I was ignorant of the means whereby +Elizabeth had learned of Mary's presence at Rutland. The queen had told no +one how the information reached her. The fact that Mary was in England was +all sufficient for Cecil, and he proceeded to execute the order Elizabeth +had given for Mary's arrest, without asking or desiring any explanation. +I, of course, was in great distress for John's sake, since I knew that he +would be attainted of treason. I had sought in vain some plan whereby I +might help him, but found none. I, myself, being a Scottish refugee, +occupied no safe position, and my slightest act toward helping John or +Mary would be construed against me. + +When I entered Dorothy's room, she ran to me and said: "Can you help me, +Malcolm? Can you help me save him from this terrible evil which I have +brought upon him?" + +"How did you bring the evil upon him?" I asked, in astonishment. "It was +not your fault that he brought Mary Stuart to--" + +"No, no," she answered; "but I told the queen she was at Rutland." + +"You told the queen?" I exclaimed, unwilling to believe my ears. "You +told--How--why--why did you tell her?" + +"I do not know why I told her," she replied. "I was mad with--with +jealousy. You warned me against it, but I did not heed you. Jennie Faxton +told me that she saw John and--but all that does not matter now. I will +tell you hereafter if I live. What we must now do is to save him--to save +him if we can. Try to devise some plan. Think--think, Malcolm." + +My first thought was to ride to Rutland Castle and give the alarm. Sir +George would lead the yeomen thither by the shortest route--the road by +way of Rowsley. There was another route leading up the Lathkil through the +dale, and thence by a road turning southward to Rutland. That road was +longer by a league than the one Sir George would take, but I could put my +horse to his greatest speed, and I might be able to reach the castle in +time to enable John and Mary to escape. I considered the question a +moment. My own life certainly would pay the forfeit in case of failure; +but my love for John and, I confess it with shame, the memory of my old +tenderness for Mary impelled me to take the risk. I explained the plan +upon which I was thinking, and told them of my determination. When I did +so, Madge grasped me by the arm to detain me, and Dorothy fell upon her +knees and kissed my hand. + +I said, "I must start at once; for, ride as I may, I fear the yeomen will +reach Rutland gates before I can get there." + +"But If the guards should be at the gates when you arrive, or if you +should be missed by Cecil, you, a Scottish refugee and a friend of Queen +Mary, would be suspected of treason, and you would lose your life," said +Madge, who was filled with alarm for my sake. + +"That is true," I replied; "but I can think of no other way whereby John +can possibly be saved." + +Dorothy stood for a moment in deep thought, and said:-- + +"I will ride to Rutland by way of Lathkil Dale--I will ride in place of +you, Malcolm. It is my duty and my privilege to do this if I can." + +I saw the truth of her words, and felt that since Dorothy had wrought the +evil, it was clearly her duty to remedy it if she could. If she should +fail, no evil consequences would fall upon her. If I should fail, it would +cost me my life; and while I desired to save John, still I wished to save +myself. Though my conduct may not have been chivalric, still I was willing +that Dorothy should go in my place, and I told her so. I offered to ride +with her as far as a certain cross-road a league distant from Rutland +Castle. There I would leave her, and go across the country to meet the +yeomen on the road they had taken. I could join them before they reached +Rutland, and my absence during the earlier portion of the march would not +be remarked, or if noticed it could easily be explained. + +This plan was agreed upon, and after the guards had passed out at +Dove-cote Gate and were well down toward Rowsley, I rode out from the +Hall, and waited for Dorothy at an appointed spot near Overhaddon. + +Immediately after my departure Dolcy was saddled, and soon Dorothy rode +furiously up to me. Away we sped, Dorothy and I, by Yulegrave church, down +into the dale, and up the river. Never shall I forget that mad ride. Heavy +rains had recently fallen, and the road in places was almost impassable. +The rivers were in flood, but when Dorothy and I reached the ford, the +girl did not stop to consider the danger ahead of her. I heard her +whisper, "On, Dolcy, on," and I heard the sharp "whisp" of the whip as she +struck the trembling, fearful mare, and urged her into the dark flood. +Dolcy hesitated, but Dorothy struck her again and again with the whip and +softly cried, "On, Dolcy, on." Then mare and rider plunged into the +swollen river, and I, of course, followed them. The water was so deep that +our horses were compelled to swim, and when we reached the opposite side +of the river we had drifted with the current a distance of at least three +hundred yards below the road. We climbed the cliff by a sheep path. How +Dorothy did it I do not know; and how I succeeded in following her I know +even less. When we reached the top of the cliff, Dorothy started off at +full gallop, leading the way, and again I followed. The sheep path +leading up the river to the road followed close the edge of the cliff, +where a false step by the horse would mean death to both horse and rider. +But Dorothy feared not, or knew not, the danger, and I caught her ever +whispered cry,--"On, Dolcy, on; on, Dolcy, on." Ashamed to fall behind, +yet fearing to ride at such a pace on such a path, I urged my horse +forward. He was a fine, strong, mettlesome brute, and I succeeded in +keeping the girl's dim form in sight. The moon, which was rapidly sinking +westward, still gave us light through rifts in the black bank of floating +clouds, else that ride over the sheep path by the cliff would have been +our last journey in the flesh. + +Soon we reached the main road turning southward. It was a series of rough +rocks and mudholes, and Dorothy and Dolcy shot forward upon it with the +speed of the tempest, to undo, if possible, the evil which a dozen words, +untimely spoken, had wrought. I urged my horse until his head was close by +Dolcy's tail, and ever and anon could I hear the whispered cry,--"On, +Dolcy, on; on, Dolcy, sweet Dolcy, good Dolcy; on, my pet, on." + +No word was spoken between Dorothy and me; but I could hear Dolcy panting +with her mighty effort, and amid the noise of splashing water and the +thud, thud, thud of our horses' hoofs came always back to me from +Dorothy's lips the sad, sad cry, full of agony and longing,--"On, Dolcy, +on; on Dolcy, on." + +The road we took led us over steep hills and down through dark, +shadow-crowded ravines; but up hill, down hill, and on the level the +terrible girl before me plunged forward with unabated headlong fury until +I thought surely the flesh of horse, man, and woman could endure the +strain not one moment longer. But the horses, the woman, and--though I say +it who should not--the man were of God's best handiwork, and the cords of +our lives did not snap. One thought, and only one, held possession of the +girl, and the matter of her own life or death had no place in her mind. + +When we reached the cross-road where I was to leave her, we halted while I +instructed Dorothy concerning the road she should follow from that point +to Rutland, and directed her how to proceed when she should arrive at the +castle gate. She eagerly listened for a moment or two, then grew +impatient, and told me to hasten in my speech, since there was no time to +lose. Then she fearlessly dashed away alone into the black night; and as I +watched her fair form fade into the shadows, the haunting cry came faintly +back to me,--"On, Dolcy, on; on, Dolcy on," and I was sick at heart. I was +loath to leave her thus in the inky gloom. The moon had sunk for the +night, and the clouds had banked up without a rift against the hidden +stars; but I could give her no further help, and my life would pay the +forfeit should I accompany her. She had brought the evil upon herself. She +was the iron, the seed, the cloud, and the rain. She was fulfilling her +destiny. She was doing that which she must do: nothing more, nothing less. +She was filling her little niche in the universal moment. She was a part +of the infinite kaleidoscope--a fate-charged, fate-moved, fragile piece of +glass which might be crushed to atoms in the twinkling of an eye, in the +sounding of a trump. + +After leaving Dorothy I rode across the country and soon overtook the +yeoman guard whom I joined unobserved. Then I marched with them, all too +rapidly to suit me, to Rutland. The little army had travelled with greater +speed than I had expected, and I soon began to fear that Dorothy would not +reach Rutland Castle in time to enable its inmates to escape. + +Within half an hour from the time I joined the yeomen we saw the dim +outlines of the castle, and Sir William St. Loe gave the command to hurry +forward. Cecil, Sir William, Sir George, and myself rode in advance of the +column. As we approached the castle by the road leading directly to the +gate from the north, I saw for a moment upon the top of the hill west of +the castle gate the forms of Dorothy and Dolcy in dim silhouette against +the sky. Then I saw them plunge madly down the hill toward the gate. I +fancied I could hear the girl whispering in frenzied hoarseness,--"On, +Dolcy, on," and I thought I could catch the panting of the mare. At the +foot of the hill, less than one hundred yards from the gate, poor Dolcy, +unable to take another step, dropped to the ground. Dolcy had gone on to +her death. She had filled her little niche in the universe and had died at +her post Dorothy plunged forward over the mare's head, and a cry of alarm +came from my lips despite me. I was sure the girl had been killed. She, +however, instantly sprang to her feet. Her hair was flying behind her and +she ran toward the gate crying: "John, John, fly for your life!" And then +she fell prone upon the ground and did not rise. + +We had all seen the mare fall, and had seen the girl run forward toward +the gates and fall before reaching them. Cecil and Sir William rode to the +spot where Dorothy lay, and dismounted. + +In a moment Sir William called to Sir George:-- + +"The lady is your daughter, Mistress Dorothy." + +"What in hell's name brings her here?" cried Sir George, hurriedly riding +forward, "and how came she?" + +I followed speedily, and the piteous sight filled my eyes with tears. I +cannot describe it adequately to you, though I shall see it vividly to the +end of my days. Dorothy had received a slight wound upon the temple, and +blood was trickling down her face upon her neck and ruff. Her hair had +fallen from its fastenings. She had lost her hat, and her gown was torn in +shreds and covered with mud. I lifted the half-conscious girl to her feet +and supported her; then with my kerchief I bound up the wound upon her +temple. + +"Poor Dolcy," she said, almost incoherently, "I have killed her and I have +failed--I have failed. Now I am ready to die. Would that I had died with +Dolcy. Let me lie down here, Malcolm,--let me lie down." + +I still held her in my arms and supported her half-fainting form. + +"Why are you here?" demanded Sir George. + +"To die," responded Dorothy. + +"To die? Damned nonsense!" returned her father. + +"How came you here, you fool?" + +"On Dolcy. She is dead," returned Dorothy. + +"Were you not at Haddon when we left there?" asked her father. + +"Yes," she replied. + +"Did you pass us on the road?" he asked. + +"How came you here?" Sir George insisted. + +"Oh, I flew hither. I am a witch. Don't question me, father. I am in no +temper to listen to you. I warn you once and for all, keep away from me; +beware of me. I have a dagger in my bosom. Go and do the work you came to +do; but remember this, father, if harm comes to him I will take my own +life, and my blood shall be upon your soul." + +"My God, Malcolm, what does she mean?" asked Sir George, touched with fear +by the strength of his daughter's threat. "Has she lost her wits?" + +"No," the girl quickly responded, "I have only just found them." + +Sir George continued to question Dorothy, but he received no further +response from her. She simply held up the palm of her hand warningly +toward him, and the gesture was as eloquent as an oration. She leaned +against me, and covered her face with her hands, while her form shook and +trembled as if with a palsy. + +Cecil and Sir William St. Loe then went toward the gate, and Sir George +said to me:-- + +"I must go with them. You remain with Doll, and see that she is taken +home. Procure a horse for her. If she is unable to ride, make a litter, or +perhaps there is a coach in the castle; if so, take possession of it. Take +her home by some means when we return. What, think you, could have brought +her here?" + +I evaded the question by replying, "I will probably be able to get a coach +in the castle, Sir George. Leave Dorothy with me." + +Soon, by the command of Sir William, the yeomen rode to the right and to +the left for the purpose of surrounding the castle, and then I heard Cecil +at the gates demanding:-- + +"Open in the name of the queen." + +"Let us go to the gates," said Dorothy, "that we may hear what they say +and see what they do. Will they kill him here, think you?" she asked, +looking wildly into my face. + +The flambeaux on the castle gate and those which the link-boys had brought +with them from Haddon were lighted, and the scene in front of the gate was +all aglow. + +"No, no, my sweet one," I answered, "perhaps they will not kill him at +all. Certainly they will not kill him now. They must try him first." + +I tried to dissuade her from going to the gates, but she insisted, and I +helped her to walk forward. + +When Dorothy and I reached the gates, we found that Cecil and Lord Rutland +were holding a consultation through the parley-window. The portcullis was +still down, and the gates were closed; but soon the portcullis was +raised, a postern was opened from within, and Sir William entered the +castle with two score of the yeomen guards. + +Sir George approached and again plied Dorothy with questions, but she +would not speak. One would have thought from her attitude that she was +deaf and dumb. She seemed unconscious of her father's presence. + +"She has lost her mind," said Sir George, in tones of deep trouble, "and I +know not what to do." + +"Leave her with me for a time, cousin. I am sure she will be better if we +do not question her now." + +Then Dorothy seemed to awaken. "Malcolm is right, father. Leave me for a +time, I pray you." + +Sir George left us, and waited with a party of yeomen a short distance +from the gate for the return of Sir William with his prisoners. + +Dorothy and I sat upon a stone bench, near the postern through which Sir +William and the guardsmen had entered, but neither of us spoke. + +After a long, weary time of waiting Sir William came out of the castle +through the postern, and with him came Mary Stuart. My heart jumped when I +saw her in the glare of the flambeaux, and the spirit of my dead love for +her came begging admission to my heart. I cannot describe my sensations +when I beheld her, but this I knew, that my love for her was dead past +resurrection. + +Following Mary came Lord Rutland, and immediately following his Lordship +walked John. When he stepped through the postern, Dorothy sprang to her +feet and ran to him with a cry, "John, John!" + +He looked at her in surprise, and stepped toward her with evident intent +to embrace her. His act was probably the result of an involuntary impulse, +for he stopped before he reached the girl. + +[Illustration] + +Sir George had gone at Sir William's request to arrange the guards for +the return march. + +Dorothy and John were standing within two yards of each other. + +"Do not touch me," cried Dorothy, "save to strike me If you will. The evil +which has come upon you is of my doing. I betrayed you to the queen." + +I saw Mary turn quickly toward the girl when she uttered those words. + +"I was insane when I did it," continued Dorothy. "They will take your +life, John. But when you die I also shall die. It is a poor reparation, I +know, but it is the only one I can make." + +"I do not understand you, Dorothy," said John. "Why should you betray me?" + +"I cannot tell you," she answered. "All I know is that I did betray you +and I hardly know how I did it. It all seems like a dream--like a fearful +monster of the night. There is no need for me to explain. I betrayed you +and now I suffer for it, more a thousand-fold than you can possibly +suffer. I offer no excuse. I have none. I simply betrayed you, and ask +only that I may die with you." + +Then was manifest in John's heart the noblest quality which God has given +to man--charity, strengthened by reason. His face glowed with a light that +seemed saintlike, and a grand look of ineffable love and pity came to his +eyes. He seemed as if by inspiration to understand all that Dorothy had +felt and done, and he knew that if she had betrayed him she had done it at +a time when she was not responsible for her acts. He stepped quickly to +the girl's side, and caring naught that we all should see him, caught her +to his breast. He held her in his arms, and the light of the flambeaux +fell upon her upturned face. + +"Dorothy," he said, "it matters not what you have done; you are my only +love. I ask no explanation. If you have betrayed me to death, though I +hope it will not come to that evil, you did not do it because you did not +love me." + +"No, no, John, you know that," sobbed the girl. + +"I do know it, Dorothy; I know all that I wish to know. You would not +intentionally bring evil upon me while you love me." + +"Ah, that I do, John; only God knows how deeply, how desperately. My love +was the cause--my love was my curse--it was your curse." + +"Do not weep, Dorothy," said John, interrupting her. "I would that I could +take all your suffering upon myself. Do not weep." + +Dorothy buried her face upon his breast and tears came to her relief. She +was not alone in her weeping, for there stood I like a very woman, and by +my side stood rough old Sir William. Tears were coursing down the bronzed +cheek of the grand old warrior like drops of glistening dew upon the +harrowed face of a mountain rock. When I saw Sir William's tears, I could +no longer restrain my emotions, and I frankly tell you that I made a +spectacle of myself in full view of the queen's yeoman guard. + +Sir George approached our little group, and when he saw Dorothy in John's +arms, he broke forth into oaths and stepped toward her intending to force +her away. But John held up the palm of his free hand warningly toward Sir +George, and drawing the girl's drooping form close to his breast he spoke +calmly:-- + +"Old man, if you but lay a finger on this girl, I will kill you where you +stand. No power on earth can save you." + +There was a tone in John's voice that forced even Sir George to pause. +Then Sir George turned to me. + +"This is the man who was in my house. He is the man who called himself +Thomas. Do you know him?" + +Dorothy saved me from the humiliation of an answer. + +She took one step from John's side and held him by the hand while she +spoke. + +"Father," she said, "this man is Sir John Manners. Now you may understand +why he could not seek my hand openly, and you also know why I could not +tell you his name." She again turned to John, and he put his arm about +her. You can imagine much better that I can describe Sir George's fury. He +snatched a halberd from the hands of a yeoman who was standing near by and +started toward John and Dorothy. Thereupon the hard old warrior, Sir +William St. Loe, whose heart one would surely say was the last place where +sentiment could dwell, performed a little act of virtue which will balance +many a page on the debtor side of his ledger of life. He lifted his sword +and scabbard and struck Sir George's outstretched hand, causing the +halberd to fall to the ground. + +"Don't touch the girl," cried Sir William, hoarsely. + +"She is my daughter," retorted Sir George, who was stunned mentally as +well as physically by Sir William's blow. + +"I care not whose daughter she is," returned Sir William. "You shall not +touch her. If you make but one other attempt, I will use my blade upon +you." + +Sir William and John had been warm friends at London court, and the old +captain of the guards quickly guessed the true situation when he saw +Dorothy run to John's arms. + +"Sir, you shall answer for this," said Sir George, angrily, to Sir +William. + +"With pleasure," returned Sir William. "I will give you satisfaction +whenever you wish it, save this present time. I am too busy now." + +Blessed old Sir William! You have been dead these many winters; and were I +a priest, I would say a mass for your soul gratis every day in the year. + +"Did the girl betray us?" asked Queen Mary. + +No one answered her question. Then she turned toward Sir John and touched +him upon the shoulder. He turned his face toward her, signifying that he +was listening. + +"Who is this girl?" Mary demanded. + +"My sweetheart, my affianced wife," John answered. + +"She says she betrayed us," the queen responded. + +"Yes," said John. + +"Did you trust her with knowledge of our presence in Rutland?" Mary +demanded angrily. + +"I did," he answered. + +"You were a fool," said Mary. + +"I know it," responded John. + +"You certainly bear her no resentment for her treason," said Mary. + +"I certainly do not," quietly answered John. "Her suffering is greater +than mine. Can you not see that it is?" + +"It is your privilege," said Mary, scornfully, "to intrust your own +secrets to whomsoever you may choose for your confidant, and it is quite +saintlike in you to forgive this person for betraying you; but what think +you of the hard case in which her treason and your folly have placed me?" + +"That is my greatest grief, save for Dorothy," answered John, softly. +Lived there ever a man possessed of broader charity or deeper love than +John? God surely made him of gold dust, not of common clay. + +Queen Mary stepped away from John in disgust, and when she turned she saw +me for the first time. She started and was about to speak, but I placed my +fingers warningly upon my lips and she remained silent. + +"Where do you take us, Sir William?" asked John. + +"To Haddon Hall. There you will await the commands of the queen." + +"How came you here?" John asked gently of Dorothy. + +"I rode Dolcy," she whispered. "She dropped dead at the foot of the hill. +Yonder she lies. I came up the Lathkil by the long road, and I hoped that +I might reach you in time to give warning. When the guard left Haddon I +realized the evil that would come upon you by reason of my base betrayal." +Here she broke down and for a moment could not proceed in the narrative. +She soon recovered and continued: "Then I mounted Dolcy, and tried to +reach here by way of the long road. Poor Dolcy seemed to understand my +trouble and my despair, and she brought me with all the speed that a horse +could make; but the road was too long and too rough; and she failed, and I +failed. Would that I could have died in her place. She gave her life in +trying to remedy my fault." + +Dorothy again began to weep, and John tenderly whispered:-- + +"All will yet come right" Then he kissed her before us all, and handed her +to me saying, "Care for her, I pray you, sir." + +John spoke a few words to Sir William, and in a moment they both went back +to the castle. + +In a short time the gates were opened, and the Rutland coach drawn by four +horses emerged from the castle grounds. Sir William then directed Mary and +Dorothy to enter the coach and requested me to ride with them to Haddon +Hall. + +The yeoman guards were in marching order, and I took my seat in the coach. +The fates surely were in a humorous mood when they threw Dorothy, Queen +Mary, and myself together. Pause for a moment and consider the situation. +You know all the facts and you can analyze it as well as I. I could not +help laughing at the fantastic trick of destiny. + +Soon after I entered the coach Sir William gave the word, and the yeomen +with Lord Rutland and John moved forward on the road to Haddon. + +The coach at once followed the guard and a score of yeomen followed us. + +Queen Mary occupied the back seat of the coach, and Dorothy and I sat upon +the front seat facing her. + +Dorothy was exhausted, and her head lay upon my shoulder. Now and again +she would softly moan and sob, but she said nothing. + +After a few minutes of silence Queen Mary spoke:-- + +"Why did you betray me, you miserable wretch? Why did you betray me?" + +Dorothy did not answer. Mary continued:-- + +"Have I ever injured you in any manner? Have I ever harmed you by thought, +word, or deed?" + +Dorothy's only answer was a sob. + +"Perhaps you are a canting fanatic, and it may be that you hate me for the +sake of that which you call the love of God?" + +"No, no, madam," I said, "that was not the reason." + +"Do you know the reason, Malcolm?" asked Mary, addressing me for the first +time. My name upon her lips had a strange effect on me. It was like the +wafting to my nostrils of a sweet forgotten odor, or the falling upon my +ears of a tender refrain of bygone days. Her voice in uttering my name +thrilled me, and I hated myself for my weakness. + +I told Mary that I did not know Dorothy's reasons, and she continued:-- + +"Malcolm, you were not a party to my betrayal for the sake of revenging +yourself on me?" + +"God forbid!" I answered. "Sir John Manners will assure you of my +innocence. I rode with Mistress Vernon to a cross-road within a league of +Rutland, hoping thereby to assist her to give you and Sir John the alarm." + +My admission soon brought me into trouble. + +"I alone am to blame," said Dorothy, faintly. + +"I can easily believe you," said Mary, sharply. "Did you expect to injure +me?" + +No answer came from Dorothy. + +"If you expect to injure me," Mary continued, "you will be disappointed. I +am a queen, and my Cousin Elizabeth would not dare to harm me, even though +she might wish to do so. We are of the same blood, and she will not wish +to do me injury. Your doting lover will probably lose his head for +bringing me to England without his queen's consent. He is her subject. I +am not. I wish you joy of the trouble you have brought upon him and upon +yourself." + +"Upon him!" cried Dorothy. + +"Yes, upon him," continued Mary, relishing the torture she was inflicting. +"You will enjoy seeing him beheaded, will you not, you fool, you huzzy, +you wretch? I hope his death will haunt you till the end of your days." + +Poor Dorothy, leaning against me, said faintly:-- + +"It will--it will. You--you devil." + +The girl was almost dead from exhaustion and anguish, but she would have +been dead indeed had she lacked the power to strike back. I believe had it +not been for Dorothy's physical weakness she would have silenced Mary with +her hands. + +After a little time Dorothy's heavy breathing indicated that she had +fallen asleep. Her head rested upon my shoulder, and the delicious perfume +of her hair and the sweet warm breath from her lips were almost +intoxicating even to me, though I was not in love with her. How great must +their effect have been coming upon John hot from her intense young soul! + +As the link-boys passed the coach some and some with their flambeaux I +could see Dorothy's sweet pale face, almost hidden in the tangled golden +red hair which fell in floods about her. The perfect oval of her cheek, +the long wet lashes, the arched eyebrows, the low broad forehead, the +straight nose, the saucy chin--all presented a picture of beauty and +pathos sufficient to soften a heart of stone. Mary had no heart of any +sort, therefore she was not moved to pity. That emotion, I am sure, she +never felt from the first to the last day of her life. She continued to +probe Dorothy's wound until I told her the girl was asleep. I changed +Dorothy's position and placed her head against the corner cushion of the +coach that she might rest more comfortably. She did not awaken when I +moved her. She slept and looked like a child. For a little time after I +had changed Dorothy's position Mary and I sat in silence. She was the +first to speak. She leaned forward and placing her hands upon mine, +whispered my name:-- + +"Malcolm!" + +After a brief silence I said:-- + +"What would you, your Majesty?" + +"Not 'your Majesty'" said Mary, softly, "but Mary, as of old." + +She remained for a moment with her hand upon my knee, and then +whispered:-- + +"Will you not sit by me, Malcolm?" + +I believe that Mary Stuart's voice was the charm wherewith she fascinated +men. I resisted to my utmost strength, but that seemed to be little more +than utter weakness; so I took a seat by her side, and she gently placed +her hand in mine. The warm touch of her strong, delicate fingers gave me a +familiar thrill. She asked me to tell her of my wanderings since I had +left Scotland, and I briefly related all my adventures. I told her of my +home at Haddon Hall and of the welcome given me by my cousin, Sir George. + +"Malcolm, have you forgotten?" she whispered, leaning gently against me. +"Have you forgotten our old-time vows and love? Have you forgotten all +that passed between us in the dear old château, when I gave to you my +virgin love, fresh from my virgin heart?" I sighed and tried to harden my +heart to her blandishments, for I knew she wished to use me and was +tempting me to that end. She continued, "I was then only fourteen years +old--ten years ago. You said that you loved me and I believed you. You +could not doubt, after the proof I gave to you, that my heart was all +yours. We were happy, oh, so happy. Do you remember, Malcolm?" + +She brought her face close to mine while she spoke, and pressed my hand +upon her breast. + +My reason told me that it was but the song of the siren she was singing to +my ears. My memory told me that she had been false to me twice two score +times, and I knew full well she would again be false to me, or to any +other man whom she could use for her purposes, and that she cared not the +price at which she purchased him. Bear in mind, you who would blame me for +my fall, that this woman not only was transcendently beautiful and fatally +fascinating, but she was a queen and had held undisputed sway over my +heart for more years than I could accurately number. As I said, added to +all her beauty, she was a queen. If you have never known royalty, you +cannot understand its enthralling power. + +"I remember it all, madam," I replied, trying to hold myself away from +her. "It is fresh to me as if it all had happened yesterday." The queen +drew my arm closely to her side and nestled her cheek for an instant upon +my shoulder. + +"I remember also," I continued, "your marriage with Darnley when I had +your promise that you would marry me; and, shame upon shame, I remember +your marriage with Darnley's murderer, Bothwell." + +"Cruel, cruel, Malcolm," she said. "You well know the overpowering +reasons of state which impelled me to sacrifice my own happiness by +marrying Darnley. I told you at the time that I hated the marriage more +than I dreaded death. But I longed to quiet the factions in Scotland, and +I hoped to save my poor bleeding people from the evils of war. You know I +hated Darnley. You know I loved you. You knew then and you know now that +you are the only man who has ever possessed my heart. You know that my +words are true. You know that you, alone, have had my love since the time +when I was a child." + +"And Rizzio?" I asked. + +"Ah, Malcolm," she answered tearfully, "I hope you, of all men, do not +believe that I ever gave a thought of love to Rizzio. He was to me like my +pet monkey or my favorite falcon. He was a beautiful, gentle, harmless +soul. I loved him for his music. He worshipped me as did my spaniel." + +Still I was determined that her blandishments should not move me. + +"And Bothwell?" I asked. + +"That is past endurance from you, Malcolm," she said, beginning to weep. +"You know I was brutally abducted and was forced into marriage with him. +He was an outlaw, an outcast. He was an uncouth brute whom any woman would +loathe. I was in his power, and I feigned acquiescence only that I might +escape and achieve vengeance upon him. Tell me, Malcolm, tell me," +continued Mary, placing her arms about my neck and clinging to me, "tell +me, you, to whom I gave my maiden's love, you who have my woman's heart, +tell me, do you believe that I could willingly have married Bothwell, even +though my heart had not been filled with the image of you, who are strong, +gentle, and beautiful?" + +You, if you are a man, may think that in my place you would have resisted +the attack of this beautiful queen, but if so you think--pardon me, my +friend--you are a fool. Under the spell of her magic influence I wavered +in the conviction which had long since come upon me, that I had for years +been her fool and her dupe. I forgot the former lessons I had learned from +her perfidy. I forgot my manhood. I forgot all of good that had of late +grown up in me. God help me, I forgot even Madge. + +"If I could only believe you, Mary," I answered, growing insane under the +influence of her fascinations, "If I could only believe you." + +"Give me your lips, Malcolm," she whispered, "give me your lips.--Again, +my Malcolm.--Ah, now you believe me." + +The lying logic of a wanton kiss is irresistible. I was drunk and, alas! I +was convinced. When I think of that time, Samson is my only +comfort--Samson and a few hundred million other fools, who like Samson and +me have been wheedled, kissed, and duped into misery and ruin. + +I said: "I do believe you, Mary. I beg you to forgive me for having +doubted you. You have been traduced and brutally misused." + +"It is sweet to hear you speak those words. But it is better to think that +at last we have come together with nothing to part us save that I am a +prisoner in the hands of my vindictive, jealous cousin. I thank God that +my kingdom of Scotland has been taken from me. I ever hated the Scots. +They are an ignorant, unkempt, wry-necked, stubborn, filthy race. But, +above all, my crown stood between you and me. I may now be a woman, and +were it not for Elizabeth, you and I could yet find solace in each other +for all our past sufferings. Malcolm, I have a sweet thought. If I could +escape to fair, beautiful France, all would be happiness for us. You could +claim your mother's estates in the balmy south, and we might live upon +them. Help me, my Malcolm, to escape, and your reward shall be greater and +sweeter than man ever before received from woman." + +I struggled against her blandishments for a moment, but I was lost. + +"You shall escape and I will go with you," said I. Man needs to make but +one little prayer to God, "Lead me not into temptation." That prayer +answered, all else of good will follow. + +The morning sun had just begun to rise over Bowling Green Hill and the +shadows of the night were fleeing before his lances, when our cavalcade +entered the grounds of Haddon at the dove-cote. If there were two suns +revolving about the earth, one to shine upon us by night and one by day, +much evil would be averted. Men do evil in the dark because others cannot +see them; they think evil in the dark because they cannot see themselves. + +With the first faint gray of dawn there came to me thoughts of Madge. I +had forgotten her, but her familiar spirit, the light, brought me back to +its fair mistress. + +When our coach reached the stone bridge I looked up to the Hall and saw +Madge standing at the open casement of the tower window. She had been +watching there all night, I learned, hoping for our speedy and safe +return, and had been warned of our approach by the noise of the tramping +guard. I drew back from the coach window, feeling that I was an evil shade +slinking away before the spirit of light. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +LIGHT + + +Dorothy had awakened while we were entering Rowsley, and I was glad that +Mary could not touch me again. + +When our coach reached the stone steps of the entrance tower we found Sir +George, Lady Crawford, and Madge waiting to receive us. The steps and the +path leading to them had been carpeted with soft rugs, and Mary, although +a prisoner, was received with ceremonies befitting her rank. It was a +proud day for Sir George when the roof of his beautiful Hall sheltered the +two most famous queens of christendom. + +Sir George assisted Mary from the coach most graciously, and in knightly +fashion led her to Lady Crawford and Madge, who were standing at the foot +of the tower steps. Due presentations were made, and the ladies of Haddon +having kissed the queen's hand, Mary went into the Hall upon the arm of +his Majesty, the King of the Peak, who stepped forward most proudly. + +His resentment against Dorothy was for the moment neutralized by the great +honor of which his house and himself were the recipients. + +John and Lord Rutland were taken to the dungeon. + +I assisted Dorothy from the coach and led her to Madge, who was waiting +for us upon the lowest of the steps leading to the entrance tower doorway. +Dorothy took Madge's outstretched hand; but Madge, by some strange +instinct, knowing of my presence, turned her face toward me. I could not +lift my eyes to her face, nor could I endure to remain in her presence. +While we were ascending the steps she held out her hand to me and said:-- + +"Is all well with you, Malcolm?" Her voice was full of tender concern, and +it pained me to the heart to hear her speak kindly to me, who was so +unworthy of her smallest thought. + +"Yes, Lady--yes, Madge," I responded; but she knew from the tones of my +voice that all was not right with me. + +"I fear, Malcolm, that you do not tell me the truth. You will come to me +soon?" she asked. + +"I may not be able to go to you soon," I answered, "but I will do so at +the first opportunity." + +The torture of her kindness was almost unbearable to me. One touch of her +hand, one tone of her rare voice, had made me loathe myself. The powers of +evil cannot stand for one moment in a fair conflict with the powers of +good. I felt that I, alone, was to blame for my treason to Madge; but +despite my effort at self-condemnation there was an under-consciousness +that Mary Stuart was to blame, and I hated her accordingly. Although +Madge's presence hurt me, it was not because I wished to conceal my +conduct from her. I knew that I could be happy again only after I had +confessed to her and had received forgiveness. + +Madge, who was blind of sight, led Dorothy, who was piteously blind of +soul, and the two girls went to their apartments. + +Curiosity is not foreign even to the royal female breast, and while Mary +Stuart was entering Haddon Hall, I saw the luminous head of the Virgin +Queen peeked out at a casement on the second floor watching her rival with +all the curiosity of a Dutch woman sitting by her window mirror. + +I went to my room in Eagle Tower, fell upon my bed, and abandoned myself +to an anguish of soul which was almost luxurious. I shall not tease you +with the details of my mental and moral processes. I hung in the balance a +long time undetermined what course I should pursue. The difference between +the influence of Mary and the effect wrought by Madge was the difference +between the intoxication and the exhilaration of wine. Following the +intoxication of Mary's presence ever came a torturing reaction, while the +exhilarating influence of Madge gave health and strength. I chose the +latter. I have always been glad I reached that determination without the +aid of any impulse outside of myself; for events soon happened which again +drove all faith in Mary from my heart forever. Those events would have +forced me to abandon my trust in her; but mind you, I took my good resolve +from inclination rather than necessity before I learned of Mary's perfidy. + +The events of the night had exhausted Dorothy, and she was confined to her +bed by illness for the first time in her life. She believed that she was +dying, and she did not want to live. I did not go to her apartments. Madge +remained with her, and I, coward-like, feared to face the girl to whom I +had been untrue. + +Dorothy's one and only desire, of course, was to see John, but that desire +for a time seemed impossible of accomplishment. + +Elizabeth, Cecil, Leicester, and Sir William St. Loe were in secret +consultation many times during three or four days and nights. Occasionally +Sir George was called into their councils, and that flattering attention +so wrought upon the old man's pride that he was a slave to the queen's +slightest wish, and was more tyrannical and dictatorial than ever before +to all the rest of mankind. There were, however, two persons besides the +queen before whom Sir George was gracious: one of these was Mary Stuart, +whose powers of fascination had been brought to bear upon the King of the +Peak most effectively. The other was Leicester, to whom, as my cousin +expressed it, he hoped to dispose of that troublesome and disturbing +body--Dorothy. These influences, together with the fact that his enemies +of Rutland were in the Haddon dungeon, had given Sir George a spleen-vent, +and Dorothy, even in the face of her father's discovery that Manners was +her mysterious lover, had for once a respite from Sir George's just and +mighty wrath. + +The purpose of Elizabeth's many councils of war was to devise some means +of obtaining from John and his father, information concerning the plot, +which had resulted in bringing Mary Stuart into England. The ultimate +purpose of Mary's visit, Elizabeth's counsellors firmly believed to be the +dethronement of the English queen and the enthronement of her Scottish +cousin. Elizabeth, in her heart, felt confident that John and his father +were not parties to the treasonable plot, although she had been warned +against each of them. Cecil and Sir William St. Loe also secretly held to +that opinion, though neither of them expressed it, Elizabeth was conscious +of having given to John while at London court an intimation that she would +be willing that Mary should visit England. Of such intimation Cecil and +Sir William had no knowledge, though they, together with many persons of +the Court, believed that Elizabeth was not entirely averse to Mary's +presence. + +Lord Rutland and John were questioned by Cecil in the hope of obtaining +some hints which might lead to the detection of those concerned in the +chief plot, provided such plot existed. But Lord Rutland knew nothing of +the affair except that John had brought the Scottish queen from Scotland, +and John persisted in the statement that he had no confederate and that he +knew nothing of any plot to place Mary upon the English throne. + +John said: "I received from Queen Mary's friends in Scotland letters +asking me to meet her on the border, and requesting me to conduct her to +my father's castle. Those letters mentioned no Englishman but myself, and +they stated that Queen Mary's flight to England was to be undertaken with +the tacit consent of our gracious queen. That fact, the letters told me, +our queen wished should not be known. There were reasons of state, the +letters said, which made it impolitic for our queen openly to invite Queen +Mary to seek sanctuary in England. I received those letters before I left +Westminster. Upon the day when I received them, I heard our gracious queen +say that she would gladly invite Queen Mary to England, were it not for +the fact that such an invitation would cause trouble between her and the +regent, Murray. Her Majesty at the same time intimated that she would be +glad if Mary Stuart should come to England uninvited." John turned to +Elizabeth, "I beg your Majesty, in justice, to ratify my words." Elizabeth +hesitated for a moment after John's appeal; but her love of justice came +to her rescue and she hung her head as she said, "You are right, Sir +John." Then she looked her counsellors in the face and said, "I well +remember that I so expressed myself." + +"In truth," said John, "I having only an hour before received the letter +from Scotland, believed that your Majesty's words were meant for my ear. I +felt that your Majesty knew of the letters, and I thought that I should be +carrying out your royal wishes should I bring Queen Mary into England +without your knowledge." + +The queen responded: "I then felt that I wished Queen Mary to seek refuge +in my kingdom, but so many untoward events have transpired since I spoke +on the subject at Westminster that I have good cause to change my mind, +though I easily understand how you might have been misled by my words." + +"I am sure," replied John, "that your Majesty has had good cause to change +your mind; but I protest in all sincerity that I considered the Scottish +letters to be a command from my queen." + +Elizabeth was a strange combination of paradoxes. No one could be truer +than she to a fixed determination once taken. No one could be swayed by +doubt so easily as she to change her mind sixty times in the space of a +minute. During one moment she was minded to liberate John and Lord +Rutland; in the next she determined to hold them in prison, hoping to +learn from them some substantial fact concerning the plot which, since +Mary's arrival in England, had become a nightmare to her. But, with all +her vagaries the Virgin Queen surely loved justice. That quality, alone, +makes a sovereign great. Elizabeth, like her mother, Anne Boleyn, had +great faith in her personal beauty; like her father, she had unbounded +confidence in her powers of mind. She took great pride in the ease with +which she controlled persons. She believed that no one was so adroit as +Elizabeth Tudor in extracting secrets from others, and in unravelling +mysterious situations, nor so cunning in hunting out plots and in running +down plotters. In all such matters she delighted to act secretly and +alone. + +During the numerous councils held at Haddon, Elizabeth allowed Cecil to +question John to his heart's content; but while she listened she +formulated a plan of her own which she was sure would be effective in +extracting all the truth from John, if all the truth had not already been +extracted. Elizabeth kept her cherished plan to herself. It was this:-- + +She would visit Dorothy, whom she knew to be ill, and would by her subtle +art steal from John's sweetheart all that the girl knew of the case. If +John had told Dorothy part of the affair concerning Mary Stuart, he had +probably told her all, and Elizabeth felt confident that she could easily +pump the girl dry. She did not know Dorothy. Accordingly our queen, +Elizabeth, the adroit, went to Dorothy's room under the pretence of paying +the girl a gracious visit. Dorothy wished to arise and receive her royal +guest, but Elizabeth said gently:-- + +"Do not arise, Dorothy; rest quietly, and I will sit here beside you on +the bed. I have come to tell you that you must recover your health at +once. We miss you greatly in the Hall." + +No one could be more gracious than Elizabeth when the humor was upon her; +though, in truth, the humor was often lacking. + +"Let us send all save you and me from the room," said the queen, "that we +may have a quiet little chat together." + +All who were in the room save Dorothy and Elizabeth of course departed at +once. + +When the door was closed, the queen said: "I wish to thank you for telling +me of the presence of her Scottish Majesty at Rutland. You know there is a +plot on foot to steal my throne from me." + +"God forbid that there should be such a plot," replied Dorothy, resting +upon her elbow in the bed. + +"I fear it is only too true that there is such a plot," returned +Elizabeth, "and I owe you a great debt of gratitude for warning me of the +Scottish queen's presence in my kingdom." + +"I hope the danger will be averted from your Majesty," said Dorothy; "but +that which I did will cause my death--it will kill me. No human being ever +before has lived through the agony I have suffered since that terrible +night. I was a traitress. I betrayed the man who is dearer to me than my +immortal soul. He says that he forgives me, but your Majesty knows that my +fault is beyond forgiveness." + +"Sir John is a noble gentleman, child," said the queen. "I hope that he is +loyal to me, but I fear--I fear." + +"Do not doubt, do not fear, my queen," returned Dorothy, eagerly; "there +is nothing false in him." + +"Do you love him deeply, little one?" asked the queen. + +"No words can tell you my love for him," answered the girl. "I feel shame +to say that he has taken even the holy God's place in my heart. Perhaps it +is for that sin that God now punishes me." + +"Fear not on that score, Dorothy," replied the queen. "God will not punish +you for feeling the love which He Himself has put into your heart. I would +willingly give my crown could I feel such love for a worthy man who would +in return love me for myself. But I cannot feel, nor can I have faith. +Self-interest, which is so dominant in all men, frightens me, and I doubt +their vows." + +"Surely, any man would love you for your own sake," said Dorothy, +tenderly. + +"It may be that you speak truly, child; but I cannot know when men's vows +are true nor when they are false. The real trouble is within myself. If I +could but feel truly, I could interpret truthfully." + +"Ah, your Majesty," interrupted Dorothy, "you do not know the thing for +which you are wishing; it is a torture worse than death; it is an ecstasy +sweeter than heaven. It is killing me. I pity you, though you are a queen, +if you have never felt it." + +"Would you do anything I might ask of you, if you could thereby save Sir +John's life?" asked the queen. + +"Ah, I would gladly give my soul to save him," responded Dorothy, with +tears in her eyes and eagerness in her voice. "Oh, my queen, do not lead +me to hope, and then plunge me again into despair. Give me no +encouragement unless you mean to free him. As for my part, take my life +and spare John's. Kill me by torture, burn me at the stake, stretch me +upon the rack till my joints are severed and my flesh is torn asunder. Let +me die by inches, my queen; but spare him, oh, spare him, and do with me +as you will. Ask from me what you wish. Gladly will I do all that you may +demand; gladly will I welcome death and call it sweet, if I can thereby +save him. The faint hope your Majesty's words hold out makes me strong +again. Come, come, take my life; take all that I can give. Give me him." + +"Do you believe that I am an ogress thirsting for blood, Dorothy, that you +offer me your life for his? You can purchase Sir John's life at a much +smaller cost." Dorothy rose to the queen with a cry, and put her arms +about her neck. "You may purchase his freedom," continued the queen, "and +you may serve your loving queen at one and the same time, if you wish to +do so." + +Dorothy had sunk back into the bed, and Elizabeth was sitting close by her +side; but when the queen spoke she turned her head on the pillow and +kissed the royal hand which was resting upon the coverlid. + +"Ah, you are so good, so true, and so beautiful," said Dorothy. + +Her familiarity toward the queen was sweet to the woman, to whom it was +new. + +Dorothy did not thank the queen for her graciousness. She did not reply +directly to her offer. She simply said:-- + +"John has told me many times that he was first attracted to me because I +resembled you." + +The girl had ample faith in her own beauty, and knew full well the subtle +flattery which lay in her words. "He said," she continued, "that my hair +in some faint degree resembled yours, but he said it was not of so +beautiful a hue. I have loved my hair ever since the day he told me that +it resembled your Majesty's." The girl leaned forward toward the queen and +gently kissed the royal locks. They no more resembled Dorothy's hair than +brick dust resembles the sheen of gold. + +The queen glanced at the reflection of her hair in the mirror and it +flatly contradicted Dorothy. But the girl's words were backed by +Elizabeth's vanity, and the adroit flattery went home. + +"Ah, my child," exclaimed her Majesty softly, as she leaned forward and +kissed Dorothy's fair cheek. + +Dorothy wept gently for a moment and familiarly rested her face upon the +queen's breast. Then she entwined her white arms about Elizabeth's neck +and turned her glorious eyes up to the queen's face that her Majesty might +behold their wondrous beauty and feel the flattery of the words she was +about to utter. + +"He said also," continued Dorothy, "that my eyes in some slight degree +resembled your Majesty's, but he qualified his compliment by telling +me--he did not exactly tell me that my eyes were not so large and +brilliant as your Majesty's, for he was making love to me, and of course +he would not have dared to say that my eyes were not the most perfect on +earth; but he did say that--at least I know that he meant--that my eyes, +while they resembled yours, were hardly so glorious, and--and I am very +jealous of your Majesty. John will be leaving me to worship at your feet." + +Elizabeth's eyes were good enough. The French called them "marcassin," +that is, wild boar's eyes. They were little and sparkling; they were not +luminous and large like Dorothy's, and the girl's flattery was rank. +Elizabeth, however, saw Dorothy's eyes and believed her words rather than +the reply of the lying mirror, and her Majesty's heart was soft from the +girl's kneading. Consider, I pray you, the serpent-like wisdom displayed +by Dorothy's method of attack upon the queen. She did not ask for John's +liberty. She did not seek it. She sought only to place John softly on +Elizabeth's heart. Some natures absorb flattery as the desert sands absorb +the unfrequent rain, and Elizabeth--but I will speak no ill of her. She is +the greatest and the best sovereign England has ever had. May God send to +my beloved country others like her. She had many small shortcomings; but I +have noticed that those persons who spend their evil energies in little +faults have less force left for greater ones. I will show you a mystery: +Little faults are personally more disagreeable and rasping to us than +great ones. Like flying grains of sand upon a windy day, they vex us +constantly. Great faults come like an avalanche, but they come less +frequently, and we often admire their possessor, who sooner or later is +apt to become our destroyer. + +"I can hardly tell you," said Dorothy in response to a question by +Elizabeth, "I can hardly tell you why I informed your Majesty of Queen +Mary's presence at Rutland. I did it partly for love of your Majesty and +partly because I was jealous of that white, plain woman from Scotland." + +"She is not a plain woman, is she?" said Elizabeth, delighted to hear Mary +of Scotland so spoken of for once. One way to flatter some women is to +berate those whom they despise or fear. Elizabeth loved Dorothy better for +the hatred which the girl bore to Mary. Both stood upon a broad plane of +mutual sympathy-jealousy of the same woman. It united the queen and the +maiden in a common heart-touching cause. + +Dorothy's confidence grew apace. "She is plain," replied Dorothy, +poutingly. "She appears plain, colorless, and repulsive by the side of +your Majesty." + +"No, no, Dorothy, that cannot be," returned Queen Elizabeth, gently +patting. Dorothy's cheek and glancing stealthily at the reflection of her +own face in the mirror. At this point Dorothy considered that the time had +come for a direct attack. + +"Your Majesty need have no fear of a plot to place Queen Mary upon your +throne. The English people would not endure her wicked pale face for a +moment." + +"But there is such a plot in existence," said Elizabeth. + +"What you say may be true," returned Dorothy; "but, your Majesty, John is +not in the plot, and he knows nothing of it." + +"I hope--I believe--he is not in the plot," said Elizabeth, "but I fear--" + +The girl kissed the sleeve of Elizabeth's gown, and then she drew the +queen closer to her and kissed her hair and her face. + +"Ah, my beauteous queen," said Dorothy, "I thank you for those words. You +must know that John loves you, and is your loyal subject. Take pity upon +me. Help me. Hold out your gracious hand and lift me from my despair." + +Dorothy slipped from the bed and fell on her knees, burying her face in +the queen's lap. + +Elizabeth was touched by the girl's appeal, and caressingly stroked her +hair, as she said: "I believe he is innocent, but I fear he knows or +suspects others who harbor treasonable designs. Tell me, Dorothy, do you +know of any such persons? If you can tell me their names, you will serve +your queen, and will save your lover. No harm shall come to Sir John, and +no one save myself shall have knowledge of any word that you may speak. If +I do not learn the names of the traitors through you or through Sir John, +I may be compelled to hold him a prisoner until I discover them. If +through you I learn them, Sir John shall go free at once." + +"Gladly, for your Majesty's sake alone would I tell you the names of such +traitorous men, did I know them;" replied Dorothy, "and thrice gladly +would I do so if I might thereby liberate John. Your Majesty must see that +these motives are strong enough to induce me to speak if I knew aught to +tell you. I would betray the whole world to save him, of that you may be +sure. But alas! I know no man whom I can betray. John told me nothing of +his expedition to the Scottish border save what was in two letters which +he sent to me. One of these I received before he left Rutland, and the +other after his return." + +She fetched the letters to the queen, who read them carefully. + +"Perhaps if I were to see him, he might, upon my importunity, tell me all +he knows concerning the affair and those connected with it if he knows +anything more than he has already told," said Dorothy, by a great effort +suppressing her eagerness. "I am sure, your Majesty, he would tell me all +Should he tell me the names of any persons connected with any treasonable +plot, I will certainly tell you. It would be base in me again to betray +John's confidence; but your Majesty has promised me his life and liberty, +and to obtain those I would do anything, however evil it might be. If I +may see John, I promise to learn all that he knows, if he knows anything; +and I also promise to tell you word for word all that he says." + +The girl felt safe in making these promises, since she was sure that John +knew nothing of a treasonable character. + +The queen, thinking that she had adroitly led Dorothy up to making the +offer, said, "I accept the conditions. Be in readiness to visit Sir John, +upon my command." + +Thus the compact was sealed, and the queen, who thought herself wise, was +used by the girl, who thought herself simple. + +For the purpose of hiding her exultation, Dorothy appeared to be ill, but +when the queen passed out at the door and closed it behind her, the girl +sprang from the bed and danced around the room as if she were a +bear-baiter. From the depths of despair she flew to the pinnacle of hope. +She knew, however, that she must conceal her happiness; therefore she went +back to bed and waited impatiently the summons of Elizabeth requiring her +to go to John. + +But now I must pause to tell you of my troubles which followed so swiftly +upon the heels of my fault that I was fairly stunned by them. My narrative +will be brief, and I shall soon bring you back again to Dorothy. + +Queen Mary had no sooner arrived at Haddon Hall than she opened an attack +upon Leicester, somewhat after the same plan, I suppose, which she had +followed with me in the coach. She could no more easily resist inviting +homage from men than a swallow can refrain from flying. Thus, from +inclination and policy, she sought Leicester and endeavored by the +pleasant paths of her blandishments to lead him to her cause. There can be +no doubt concerning Leicester's wishes in the premises. Had Mary's cause +held elements of success, he would have joined her; but he feared +Elizabeth, and he hoped some day to share her throne. He would, however, +prefer to share the throne with Mary. + +Mary told him of her plans and hopes. She told him that I had ridden with +Dorothy for the purpose of rescuing John and herself, and that I had +promised to help her to escape to France. She told him she would use me +for her tool in making her escape, and would discard me when once she +should be safe out of England. Then would come Leicester's turn. Then +should my lord have his recompense, and together they would regain the +Scottish crown. + +How deeply Leicester became engaged in the plot I cannot say, but this I +know: through fear of Elizabeth, or for the purpose of winning her favor, +he unfolded to our queen all the details of Mary's scheme, together with +the full story of my ride with Dorothy to Rutland, and my return with +Dorothy and Mary in the coach. Thereupon Mary was placed under strict +guard. The story spread quickly through the Hall, and Dawson brought it to +me. On hearing it, my first thought was of Madge. I knew it would soon +reach her. Therefore I determined to go to her at once and make a clean +breast of all my perfidy. Had I done so sooner, I should at least have had +the benefit of an honest, voluntary confession; but my conscience had made +a coward of me, and the woman who had been my curse for years had so +completely disturbed my mind that I should have been quite as well off +without any at all. It led me from one mistake into another. + +After Dawson told me that my miserable story was known throughout the +Hall, I sought Madge, and found her with Aunt Dorothy. She was weeping, +and I at once knew that I was too late with my confession. I spoke her +name, "Madge," and stood by her side awaiting her reply. + +"Is it true, Malcolm?" she asked. "I cannot believe it till I hear it from +your lips." + +"It was true," I responded. "I promised to help Queen Mary escape, and I +promised to go with her; but within one hour of the time when I gave my +word I regretted it as I have never regretted anything else in all my +life. I resolved that, while I should, according to my promise, help the +Scottish queen escape, I would not go with her. I resolved to wait here at +Haddon to tell all to you and to our queen, and then I would patiently +take my just punishment from each. My doom from the queen, I believed, +would probably be death; but I feared more your--God help me! It is +useless for me to speak." Here I broke down and fell upon my knees, +crying, "Madge, Madge, pity me, pity me! Forgive me if you can, and, if +our queen decrees it, I shall die happy." + +In my desperation I caught the girl's hand, but she drew it quickly from +me, and said:-- + +"Do not touch me!" + +She arose to her feet, and groped her way to her bedroom. We were in Aunt +Dorothy's room. I watched Madge as she sought with her outstretched hand +the doorway; and when she passed slowly through it, the sun of my life +seemed to turn black. Just as Madge passed from the room, Sir William St. +Loe, with two yeomen, entered by Sir George's door and placed irons upon +my wrist and ankles. I was led by Sir William to the dungeon, and no word +was spoken by either of us. + +I had never in my life feared death, and now I felt that I would welcome +it. When a man is convinced that his life is useless, through the dire +disaster that he is a fool, he values it little, and is even more than +willing to lose it. + +Then there were three of us in the dungeon,--John, Lord Rutland, and +myself; and we were all there because we had meddled in the affairs of +others, and because Dorothy had inherited from Eve a capacity for insane, +unreasoning jealousy. + +Lord Rutland was sitting on the ground in a corner of the dungeon. John, +by the help of a projecting stone in the masonry, had climbed to the small +grated opening which served to admit a few straggling rays of light into +the dungeon's gloom. He was gazing out upon the fair day, whose beauty he +feared would soon fade away from him forever. + +Elizabeth's coldness had given him no hope. It had taken all hope from his +father. + +The opening of the door attracted John's attention, and he turned his face +toward me when I entered. He had been looking toward the light, and his +eyes, unaccustomed for the moment to the darkness, failed at first to +recognize of me. When the dungeon door had closed behind me, he sprang +down from his perch by the window, and came toward me with outstretched +hands. He said sorrowfully:-- + +"Malcolm, have I brought you here, too? Why are you in irons? It seems +that I am destined to bring calamity upon all whom I love." + +"It is a long story," I replied laughingly. "I will tell it to you when +the time begins to drag; but I tell you now it is through no fault of +yours that I am here. No one is to blame for my misfortune but myself." +Then I continued bitterly, "Unless it be the good God who created me a +fool." + +John went to his father's side and said:-- + +"Sir Malcolm is here, father. Will you not rise and greet him?" + +John's voice aroused his father, and the old lord came to the little patch +of light in which I was standing and said: "A terrible evil has fallen +upon us, Sir Malcolm, and without our fault. I grieve to learn that you +also are entangled in the web. The future looks very dark." + +"Cheer up, father," said John, taking the old man's hand. "Light will soon +come; I am sure it will." + +"I have tried all my life to be a just man," said Lord Rutland. "I have +failed at times, I fear, but I have tried. That is all any man can do. I +pray that God in His mercy will soon send light to you, John, whatever of +darkness there may be in store for me." + +I thought, "He will surely answer this just man's prayer," and almost +before the thought was completed the dungeon door turned upon its hinges +and a great light came with glorious refulgence through the open +portal--Dorothy. + +"John!" + +Never before did one word express so much of mingled joy and grief. Fear +and confidence, and, greater than all, love unutterable were blended in +its eloquent tones. She sprang to John as the lightning leaps from cloud +to cloud, and he caught her to his heart. He gently kissed her hair, her +face being hidden in the folds of his doublet. + +"Let me kneel, John, let me kneel," she murmured. + +"No, Dorothy, no," he responded, holding her closely in his arms. + +"But one moment, John," she pleased. + +"No, no; let me see your eyes, sweet one," said John, trying to turn her +face upward toward his own. + +"I cannot yet, John, I cannot. Please let me kneel for one little moment +at your feet." + +John saw that the girl would find relief in self-abasement, so he relaxed +his arms, and she sank to her knees upon the dungeon floor. She wept +softly for a moment, and then throwing back her head with her old +impulsive manner looked up into his face. + +"Oh, forgive me, John! Forgive me! Not that I deserve your forgiveness, +but because you pity me." + +"I forgave you long ago, Dorothy. You had my full forgiveness before you +asked it." + +He lifted the weeping girl to her feet and the two clung together in +silence. After a pause Dorothy spoke:-- + +"You have not asked me, John, why I betrayed you." + +"I want to know nothing, Dorothy, save that you love me." + +"That you already know. But you cannot know how much I love you. I myself +don't know. John, I seem to have turned all to love. 'However much there +is of me, that much there is of love for you. As the salt is in every drop +of the sea, so love is in every part of my being; but John," she +continued, drooping her head and speaking regretfully, "the salt in the +sea is not unmixed with many things hurtful." Her face blushed with shame +and she continued limpingly: "And my love is not--is not without evil. Oh, +John, I feel deep shame in telling you, but my love is terribly jealous. +At times a jealousy comes over me so fierce and so distracting that under +its influence I am mad, John, mad. I then see nothing in its true light; +my eyes seem filled with--with blood, and all things appear red or black +and--and--oh! John, I pray you never again cause me jealousy. It makes a +demon of me." + +You may well know that John was nonplussed. + +"I cause you jealousy?" he asked in surprise. "When did I--" But Dorothy +interrupted him, her eyes flashing darkly and a note of fierceness in her +voice. He saw for himself the effects of jealousy upon her. + +"That white--white Scottish wanton! God's curse be upon her! She tried to +steal you from me." + +"Perhaps she did," replied John, smilingly, "of that I do not know. But +this I do know, and you, Dorothy, must know it too henceforth and for all +time to come. No woman can steal my love from you. Since I gave you my +troth I have been true to you; I have not been false even in one little +thought." + +"I feel sure, John, that you have not been untrue to me," said the girl +with a faint smile playing about her lips; "but--but you remember the +strange woman at Bowling Green Gate whom you would have--" + +"Dorothy, I hope you have not come to my dungeon for the purpose of making +me more wretched than I already am?" + +"No, no, John, forgive me," she cried softly; "but John, I hate her, I +hate her! and I want you to promise that you too will hate her." + +"I promise," said John, "though, you have had no cause for jealousy of +Queen Mary." + +"Perhaps--not," she replied hesitatingly. "I have never thought," the +girl continued poutingly, "that you did anything of which I should be +jealous; but she--she--oh, I hate her! Let us not talk about her. Jennie +Faxton told me--I will talk about her, and you shall not stop me--Jennie +Faxton told me that the white woman made love to you and caused you to put +your arm about her waist one evening on the battlements and-" + +"Jennie told you a lie," said John. + +"Now don't interrupt me," the girl cried nervously, almost ready for +tears, "and I will try to tell you all. Jennie told me the--the white +woman looked up to you this fashion," and the languishing look she gave +John in imitation of Queen Mary was so beautiful and comical that he could +do nothing but laugh and cover her face with kisses, then laugh again and +love the girl more deeply and yet more deeply with each new breath he +drew. Dorothy was not sure whether she wanted to laugh or to cry, so she +did both. + +"Jennie told me in the middle of the night," continued Dorothy, "when all +things seem so vivid and appear so distorted and--and that terrible +blinding jealousy of which I told you came upon me and drove me mad. I +really thought, John, that I should die of the agony. Oh, John, if you +could know the anguish I suffered that night you would pity me; you would +not blame me." + +"I do not blame you, Dorothy." + +"No, no, there-" she kissed him softly, and quickly continued: "I felt +that I must separate her from you at all cost. I would have done murder to +accomplish my purpose. Some demon whispered to me, 'Tell Queen Elizabeth,' +and--and oh, John, let me kneel again." + +"No, no, Dorothy, let us talk of something else," said John, soothingly. + +"In one moment, John. I thought only of the evil that would come to +her--her of Scotland. I did not think of the trouble I would bring to +you, John, until the queen, after asking me if you were my lover, said +angrily: 'You may soon seek another.' Then, John, I knew that I had also +brought evil upon you. Then I _did_ suffer. I tried to reach Rutland, and +you know all else that happened on that terrible night. Now John, you know +all--all. I have withheld nothing. I have, confessed all, and I feel that +a great weight is taken from my heart. You will not hate me, will you, +John?" + +He caught the girl to his breast and tried to turn her face toward his. + +"I could not hate you if I would," he replied, with quick-coming breath, +"and God knows I would not. To love you is the sweetest joy in life," and +he softly kissed the great lustrous eyes till they closed as if in sleep. +Then he fiercely sought the rich red lips, waiting soft and passive for +his caresses, while the fair head fell back upon the bend of his elbow in +a languorous, half-conscious sweet surrender to his will. Lord Rutland and +I had turned our backs on the shameless pair, and were busily discussing +the prospect for the coming season's crops. + +Remember, please, that Dorothy spoke to John of Jennie Faxton. Her doing +so soon bore bitter fruit for me. + +Dorothy had been too busy with John to notice any one else, but he soon +presented her to his father. After the old lord had gallantly kissed her +hand, she turned scornfully to me and said:-- + +"So you fell a victim to her wanton wiles? If it were not for Madge's +sake, I could wish you might hang." + +"You need not balk your kindly desire for Madge's sake," I answered. "She +cares little about my fate. I fear she will never forgive me." + +"One cannot tell what a woman will do," Dorothy replied. "She is apt to +make a great fool of herself when it comes to forgiving the man she +loves." + +"Men at times have something to forgive," I retorted, looking with a +smile toward John. The girl made no reply, but took John's hand and looked +at him as if to say, "John, please don't let this horrid man abuse me." + +"But Madge no longer cares for me," I continued, wishing to talk upon the +theme, "and your words do not apply to her." + +The girl turned her back disdainfully on me and said, "You seem to be +quite as easily duped by the woman who loves you and says she doesn't as +by the one who does not care for you but says she does." + +"Damn that girl's tongue!" thought I; but her words, though biting, +carried joy to my heart and light to my soul. + +After exchanging a few words with Lord Rutland, Dorothy turned to John and +said:-- + +"Tell me upon your knightly honor, John, do you know aught of a wicked, +treasonable plot to put the Scottish woman on the English throne?" + +I quickly placed my finger on my lips and touched my ear to indicate that +their words would be overheard; for a listening-tube connected the dungeon +with Sir George's closet. + +"Before the holy God, upon my knighthood, by the sacred love we bear each +other, I swear I know of no such plot," answered John. "I would be the +first to tell our good queen did I suspect its existence." + +Dorothy and John continued talking upon the subject of the plot, but were +soon interrupted by a warning knock upon the dungeon door. + +Lord Rutland, whose heart was like twenty-two carat gold, soft, pure, and +precious, kissed Dorothy's hand when she was about to leave, and said: +"Dear lady, grieve not for our sake. I can easily see that more pain has +come to you than to us. I thank you for the great fearless love you bear +my son. It has brought him trouble, but it is worth its cost. You have my +forgiveness freely, and I pray God's choicest benediction may be with +you." She kissed the old lord and said, "I hope some day to make you love +me." + +"That will be an easy task," said his Lordship, gallantly. Dorothy was +about to leave. Just at the doorway she remembered the chief purpose of +her visit; so she ran back to John, put her hand over his mouth to insure +silence, and whispered in his ear. + +On hearing Dorothy's whispered words, signs of joy were so apparent in +John's face that they could not be mistaken. He said nothing, but kissed +her hand and she hurriedly left the dungeon. + +After the dungeon door closed upon Dorothy, John went to his father and +whispered a few words to him. Then he came to me, and in the same +secretive manner said:-- + +"The queen has promised Dorothy our liberty." I was not at all sure that +"our liberty" included me,--I greatly doubted it,--but I was glad for the +sake of my friends, and, in truth, cared little for myself. + +Dorothy went from our dungeon to the queen, and that afternoon, according +to promise, Elizabeth gave orders for the release of John and his father. +Sir George, of course, was greatly chagrined when his enemies slipped from +his grasp; but he dared not show his ill humor in the presence of the +queen nor to any one who would be apt to enlighten her Majesty on the +subject. + +Dorothy did not know the hour when her lover would leave Haddon; but she +sat patiently at her window till at last John and Lord Rutland appeared. +She called to Madge, telling her of the joyous event, and Madge, asked:-- + +"Is Malcolm with them?" + +"No," replied Dorothy, "he has been left in the dungeon, where he +deserves to remain." + +After a short pause, Madge said:-- + +"If John had acted toward the Scottish queen as Malcolm did, would you +forgive him?" + +"Yes, of course. I would forgive him anything." + +"Then why shall we not forgive Malcolm?" asked Madge. + +"Because he is not John," was the absurd reply. + +"No," said Madge, promptly; "but he is 'John' to me." + +"That is true," responded Dorothy, "and I will forgive him if you will." + +"I don't believe it makes much difference to Malcolm whether or not you +forgive him," said Madge, who was provoked at Dorothy's condescending +offer. "My forgiveness, I hope, is what he desires." + +"That is true, Madge," replied Dorothy, laughingly; "but may not I, also, +forgive him?" + +"If you choose," responded Madge, quietly; "as for me, I know not what I +wish to do." + +You remember that Dorothy during her visit to the dungeon spoke of Jennie +Faxton. The girl's name reached Sir George's ear through the +listening-tube and she was at once brought in and put to the question. + +Jennie, contrary to her wont, became frightened and told all she knew +concerning John and Dorothy, including my part in their affairs. In Sir +George's mind, my bad faith to him was a greater crime than my treason to +Elizabeth, and he at once went to the queen with his tale of woe. + +Elizabeth, the most sentimental of women, had heard from Dorothy the story +of her tempestuous love, and also of mine, and the queen was greatly +interested in the situation. + +I will try to be brief. + +Through the influence of Dorothy and Madge, as I afterward learned, and +by the help of a good word from Cecil, the queen was induced to order my +liberation on condition that I should thenceforth reside in France. So one +morning, three days after John's departure from Haddon, I was overjoyed to +hear the words, "You are free." + +I did not know that Jennie Faxton had given Sir George her large stock of +disturbing information concerning my connection with the affairs of +Dorothy and John. So when I left the dungeon, I, supposing that my stormy +cousin would be glad to forgive me if Queen Elizabeth would, sought and +found him in Aunt Dorothy's room. Lady Crawford and Sir George were +sitting near the fire and Madge was standing near the door in the next +room beyond. When I entered, Sir George sprang to his feet and cried out +angrily:-- + +"You traitorous dog, the queen has seen fit to liberate you, and I cannot +interfere with her orders; but if you do not leave my Hall at once I shall +set the hounds on you. Your effects will be sent to The Peacock, and the +sooner you quit England the safer you will be." There was of course +nothing for me to do but to go. + +"You once told me, Sir George--you remember our interview at The +Peacock--that if you should ever again order me to leave Haddon, I should +tell you to go to the devil. I now take advantage of your kind permission, +and will also say farewell." + +I kissed Aunt Dorothy's cheek, took my leave, and sought Cecil, from whom +I obtained a passport to France. Then I asked Dawson to fetch my horse. + +I longed to see Madge before I left Haddon, but I knew that my desire +could not be gratified; so I determined to stop at Rowsley and send back a +letter to her which Dawson undertook to deliver. In my letter I would ask +Madge's permission to return for her from France and to take her home +with me as my wife. After I had despatched my letter I would wait at The +Peacock for an answer. + +Sore at heart, I bade good-by to Dawson, mounted my horse, and turned his +head toward the Dove-cote Gate. As I rode under Dorothy's window she was +sitting there. The casement was open, for the day was mild, although the +season was little past midwinter. I heard her call to Madge, and then she +called to me:-- + +"Farewell, Malcolm! Forgive me for what I said to you in the dungeon. I +was wrong, as usual. Forgive me, and God bless you. Farewell!" + +While Dorothy was speaking, and before I replied, Madge came to the open +casement and called:-- + +"Wait for me, Malcolm, I am going down to you." + +Great joy is a wonderful purifier, and Madge's cry finished the work of +the past few months and made a good man of me, who all my life before had +known little else than evil. + +Soon Madge's horse was led by a groom to the mounting block, and in a few +minutes she emerged gropingly from the great door of Entrance Tower. +Dorothy was again a prisoner in her rooms and could not come down to bid +me farewell. Madge mounted, and the groom led her horse to me and placed +the reins in my hands. + +"Is it you, Malcolm?" asked Madge. + +"Yes," I responded, in a voice husky with emotion. "I cannot thank you +enough for coming to say farewell. You have forgiven me?" + +"Yes," responded Madge, almost in tears, "but I have not come to say +farewell." + +I did not understand her meaning. + +"Are you going to ride part of the way with me--perhaps to Rowsley?" I +asked, hardly daring to hope for so much. + +"To France, Malcolm, if you wish to take me," she responded murmuringly. + +For a little time I could not feel the happiness that had come upon me in +so great a flood. But when I had collected my scattered senses, I said:-- + +"I thank God that He has turned your heart again to me. May I feel His +righteous anger if ever I give you cause to regret the step you are +taking." + +"I shall never regret it, Malcolm," she answered softly, as she held out +her hand to me. + +Then we rode by the dove-cote, out from Haddon Hall, never to see its +walls again. + +We went to Rutland, whence after a fortnight we journeyed to France. There +I received my mother's estates, and never for one moment, to my knowledge, +has Madge regretted having intrusted her life and happiness to me. I need +not speak for myself. + +Our home is among the warm, sunlit, vine-covered hills of southern France, +and we care not for the joys of golden streets so long as God in His +goodness vouchsafes to us our earthly paradise. Age, with the heart at +peace, is the fairest season of life; and love, leavened of God, robs even +approaching death of his sting and makes for us a broad flower-strewn path +from the tempestuous sea of time to the calm, sweet ocean of eternity. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +LEICESTER WAITS AT THE STILE + + +I shall now tell you of the happenings in Haddon Hall during the fortnight +we spent at Rutland before our departure for France. + +We left Dorothy, you will remember, a prisoner in her rooms. + +After John had gone Sir George's wrath began to gather, and Dorothy was +not permitted to depart from the Hall for even a walk upon the terrace, +nor could she leave her own apartments save when the queen requested her +presence. + +A few days after my departure from Haddon, Sir George sent Dawson out +through the adjoining country to invite the nobility and gentry to a grand +ball to be given at the Hall in honor of Queen Elizabeth. Queen Mary had +been sent a prisoner to Chatsworth. + +Tom Shaw, the most famous piper of his times, and a choice company of +musicians to play with him were hired for the occasion, and, in short, the +event was so glorious that its wonders have been sung in minstrelsy +throughout Derbyshire ever since. + +Dorothy's imprisonment saddened Leicester's heart, and he longed to see +her, for her beauty had touched him nearly. Accordingly, the earl one day +intimated to Sir George his wish in terms that almost bespoke an intention +to ask for the girl's hand when upon proper opportunity the queen's +consent might be sought and perchance obtained. His equivocal words did +not induce Sir George to grant a meeting by which Dorothy might be +compromised; but a robust hope for the ultimate accomplishment of the +"Leicester possibility" was aroused in the breast of the King of the Peak, +and from hope he could, and soon did, easily step to faith. He saw that +the earl was a handsome man, and he believed, at least he hoped, that the +fascinating lord might, if he were given an opportunity, woo Dorothy's +heart away from the hated scion of a hated race. Sir George, therefore, +after several interviews with the earl, grew anxious to give his Lordship +an opportunity to win her. But both Sir George and my lord feared +Elizabeth's displeasure, and the meeting between Leicester and the girl +seemed difficult to contrive. Sir George felt confident that Dorothy +could, if she would, easily capture the great lord in a few private +interviews; but would she? Dorothy gave her father no encouragement in the +matter, and took pains to shun Leicester rather than to seek him. + +As Dorothy grew unwilling, Leicester and Sir George grew eager, until at +length the latter felt that it was almost time to exert his parental +authority. He told Aunt Dorothy his feeling on the subject, and she told +her niece. It was impossible to know from what source Dorothy might draw +inspiration for mischief. It came to her with her father's half-command +regarding Leicester. + +Winter had again asserted itself. The weather was bitter cold and snow +covered the ground to the depth of a horse's fetlock. + +The eventful night of the grand ball arrived, and Dorothy's heart throbbed +till she thought surely it would burst. + +At nightfall guests began to arrive, and Sir George, hospitable soul that +he was, grew boisterous with good humor and delight. + +The rare old battlements of Haddon were ablaze with flambeaux, and inside +the rooms were alight with waxen tapers. The long gallery was brilliant +with the smiles of bejewelled beauty, and laughter, song, and merriment +filled the grand old Hall from terrace to Entrance Tower. Dorothy, of +course, was brought down from her prison to grace the occasion with a +beauty which none could rival. Her garments were of soft, clinging, +bright-colored silks and snowy laces, and all who saw her agreed that a +creature more radiant never greeted the eye of man. + +When the guests had all arrived, the pipers in the balcony burst forth in +heart-swelling strains of music, and every foot in the room longed for the +dance to begin. + +I should like to tell you how Elizabeth most graciously opened the ball +with his Majesty, the King of the Peak, amid the plaudits of worshipping +subjects, and I should enjoy describing the riotous glory which +followed,--for although I was not there, I know intimately all that +happened,--but I will balk my desire and tell you only of those things +which touched Dorothy. + +Leicester, of course, danced with her, and during a pause in the figure, +the girl in response to pleadings which she had adroitly incited, +reluctantly promised to grant the earl the private interview he so much +desired if he could suggest some means for bringing it about. Leicester +was in raptures over her complaisance and glowed with triumph and +delightful anticipation. But he could think of no satisfactory plan +whereby his hopes might be brought to a happy fruition. He proposed +several, but all seemed impracticable to the coy girl, and she rejected +them. After many futile attempts he said:-- + +"I can suggest no good plan, mistress. I pray you, gracious lady, +therefore, make full to overflowing the measure of your generosity, and +tell me how it may be accomplished." + +Dorothy hung her head as if in great shame and said: "I fear, my lord, we +had better abandon the project for a time. Upon another occasion +perhaps--" + +"No, no," interrupted the earl, pleadingly, "do not so grievously +disappoint me. My heart yearns to have you to myself for one little moment +where spying eyes cannot see nor prying ears hear. It is cruel in you to +raise my hopes only to cast them down. I beg you, tell me if you know in +what manner I may meet you privately." + +After a long pause, Dorothy with downcast eyes said, "I am full of shame, +my lord, to consent to this meeting, and then find the way to it, +but--but--" ("Yes, yes, my Venus, my gracious one," interrupted the +earl)--"but if my father would permit me to--to leave the Hall for a few +minutes, I might--oh, it is impossible, my lord. I must not think of it." + +"I pray you, I beg you," pleaded Leicester. "Tell me, at least, what you +might do if your father would permit you to leave the Hall. I would gladly +fall to my knees, were it not for the assembled company." + +With reluctance in her manner and gladness in her heart, the girl said:-- + +"If my father would permit me to leave the Hall, I might--only for a +moment, meet you at the stile, in the northeast corner of the garden back +of the terrace half an hour hence. But he would not permit me, and--and, +my lord, I ought not to go even should father consent." + +"I will ask your father's permission for you. I will seek him at once," +said the eager earl. + +"No, no, my lord, I pray you, do not," murmured Dorothy, with distracting +little troubled wrinkles in her forehead. Her trouble was more for fear +lest he would not than for dread that he would. + +"I will, I will," cried his Lordship, softly; "I insist, and you shall not +gainsay me." + +The girl's only assent was silence, but that was sufficient for so +enterprising a gallant as the noble Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. So +he at once went to seek Sir George. + +The old gentleman, although anxious to give Leicester a chance to press +his suit with Dorothy, at first refused, but Leicester said:-- + +"My intentions are honorable, Sir George. If I can win your daughter's +heart, it is my wish, if the queen's consent can be obtained, to ask +Mistress Vernon's hand in marriage." + +Sir George's breast swelled with pride and satisfaction, for Leicester's +words were as near an offer of marriage as it was in his power to make. So +the earl received, for Dorothy, permission to leave the Hall, and eagerly +carried it to her. + +"Your father consents gladly," said the earl. "Will you meet me half an +hour hence at the stile?" + +"Yes," murmured the girl, with shamelessly cast down eyes and drooping +head. Leicester bowed himself away, and fully fifteen minutes before the +appointed time left the Hall to wait in the cold at the stile for Dorothy. + +Before the expiration of the tedious half hour our meek maiden went to her +father and with deep modesty and affected shame said:-- + +"Father, is it your wish that I go out of the Hall for a few minutes to +meet--to meet--" She apparently could not finish the sentence, so modest +and shame-faced was she. + +"Yes, Doll, I wish you to go on this condition: if Leicester asks you to +marry him, you shall consent to be his wife." + +"I promise, father," replied the dutiful girl, "if Lord Leicester asks me +this night, I will be his wife." + +"That is well, child, that is well. Once more you are my good, obedient +daughter, and I love you. Wear your sable cloak, Doll; the weather is very +cold out of doors." + +Her father's solicitude touched her nearly, and she gently led him to a +secluded alcove near by, threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him +passionately. The girl's affection was sweet to the old man who had been +without it so long, and his eyes grew moist as he returned her caresses. +Dorothy's eyes also were filled with tears. Her throat was choked with +sobs, and her heart was sore with pain. Poor young heart! Poor old man! + +Soon after Dorothy had spoken with her father she left the Hall by +Dorothy's Postern. She was wrapped in her sable cloak--the one that had +saved John's life in Aunt Dorothy's room; but instead of going across the +garden to the stile where Lord Leicester was waiting, which was north and +east of the terrace, she sped southward down the terrace and did not stop +till she reached the steps which led westward to the lower garden. She +stood on the terrace till she saw a man running toward her from the +postern in the southwest corner of the lower garden. Then down the steps +she sped with winged feet, and outstretching her arms, fell upon the man's +breast, whispering: "John, my love! John, my love!" + +As for the man--well, during the first minute or two he wasted no time in +speech. + +When he spoke he said:-- + +"We must not tarry here. Horses are waiting at the south end of the +footbridge. Let us hasten away at once." + +Then happened the strangest of all the strange things I have had to record +of this strange, fierce, tender, and at time almost half-savage girl. + +Dorothy for months had longed for that moment. Her heart had almost burst +with joy when a new-born hope for it was suggested by the opportunities of +the ball and her father's desire touching my lord of Leicester. But now +that the longed-for moment was at hand, the tender heart, which had so +anxiously awaited it, failed, and the girl broke down weeping +hysterically. + +"Oh, John, you have forgiven so many faults in me," she said between +sobs, "that I know you will forgive me when I tell you I cannot go with +you to-night. I thought I could and I so intended when I came out here to +meet you. But oh, John, my dearest love, I cannot go; I cannot go. Another +time I will go with you, John. I promise that I will go with you soon, +very soon, John; but I cannot go now, oh, I cannot. You will forgive me, +won't you, John? You will forgive me?" + +"No," cried John in no uncertain tones, "I will not forgive you. I will +take you. If you cry out, I will silence you." Thereupon he rudely took +the girl in his arms and ran with her toward the garden gate near the +north end of the stone footbridge. + +"John, John!" she cried in terror. But he placed his hand over her mouth +and forced her to remain silent till they were past the south wall. Then +he removed his hand and she screamed and struggled against him with all +her might. Strong as she was, her strength was no match for John's, and +her struggles were in vain. + +John, with his stolen bride, hurriedly crossed the footbridge and ran to +the men who were holding the horses. There he placed Dorothy on her feet +and said with a touch of anger:-- + +"Will you mount of your own will or shall I put you in the saddle?" + +"I'll mount of my own will, John," she replied submissively, "and John, +I--I thank you, I thank you for--for--" she stopped speaking and toyed +with the tufts of fur that hung from the edges of her cloak. + +"For what, my love? For what do you thank me?" asked John after a little +pause. + +"For making--me--do--what I--I longed to do. My conscience would not let +me do it of my own free will." + +Then tears came from her eyes in a great flood, and throwing her arms +about John's neck she gave him herself and her heart to keep forever and +forever. + +And Leicester was shivering at the stile! The girl had forgotten even the +existence of the greatest lord in the realm. + +My wife, Lord Rutland, and I waited in the watch-room above the castle +gates for the coming of Dorothy and John; and when they came--but I will +not try to describe the scene. It were a vain effort. Tears and laughter +well compounded make the sweetest joy; grief and joy the truest happiness; +happiness and pain the grandest soul, and none of these may be described. +We may analyze them, and may take them part from part; but, like love, +they cannot be compounded. We may know all the component parts, but when +we try to create these great emotions in description, we lack the subtle +compounding flux to unite the ingredients, and after all is done, we have +simply said that black is black and that white is white. + +Next day, in the morning, Madge and I started for our new home in France. +We rode up the hill down which poor Dolcy took her last fatal plunge, and +when we reached the crest, we paused to look back. Standing on the +battlements, waving a kerchief in farewell to us, was the golden-crowned +form of a girl. Soon she covered her face with her kerchief, and we knew +she was weeping Then we, also, wept as we turned away from the fair +picture; and since that far-off morning--forty long, long years ago--we +have not seen the face nor heard the voice of our sweet, tender friend. +Forty years! What an eternity it is if we tear it into minutes! + + + + +L'ENVOI + + +The fire ceases to burn; the flames are sucked back into the earth; the +doe's blood has boiled away; the caldron cools, and my shadowy friends--so +real to me--whom I love with a passionate tenderness beyond my power to +express, have sunk into the dread black bank of the past, and my poor, +weak wand is powerless to recall them for the space of even one fleeting +moment. So I must say farewell to them; but all my life I shall carry a +heart full of tender love and pain for the fairest, fiercest, gentlest, +weakest, strongest of them all--Dorothy Vernon. + + + + +MALCOLM POSSIBLY IN ERROR + + +Malcolm Vernon is the only writer on the life of Dorothy Vernon who speaks +of Rutland Castle. All others writing on the subject say that Belvoir +Castle was the home of the Earl of Rutland. + +No other writer mentions the proposed marriage, spoken of by Malcolm, +between Dorothy and Lord Derby's son. They do, however, say that Dorothy +had an elder sister who married a Stanley, but died childless, leaving +Dorothy sole heiress to Sir George Vernon's vast estate. + +All writers agree with Malcolm upon the main fact that brave Dorothy +eloped with John Manners and brought to him the fair estate of Haddon, +which their descendant, the present Duke of Rutland, now possesses. + +No other writer speaks of Mary Stuart having been at Haddon, and many +chroniclers disagree with Malcolm as to the exact date of her imprisonment +in Lochleven and her escape. + +In all other essential respects the history of Dorothy Vernon as told by +Malcolm agrees with other accounts of her life. + +I do not pretend to reconcile the differences between these great +historical authorities, but I confess to considerable faith in Malcolm. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall, by Charles Major + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14671 *** |