"Poor girl, I shall give her the means."
"You, sir?"
"Yes."
"Oh, sir--sir--but she'll never take it from you," said Mrs. Goldsworthy, sobbing into her apron with great vociferation.
"She must; and let her remember me in her prayers when I am far away. At eight to-morrow evening I shall be here again for the last time, my worthy friend, and will supply her with what she requires."
Before the nurse could reply I was in my saddle, and had closed the iron gate; but just as I rode off, I nearly trod down a man who was muffled in a poncho cloak, and who leant against the gate pillar--whether listening or asleep, I knew not; yet, had I looked more closely, I might have detected the moustached face of my quondam friend, Mr. De Warr Berkeley. For this loiterer, or eavesdropper, proved in the sequel to be no other than he.
To outflank me, and to place himself, his fortune (and his debts), at the complete disposal of Lady Louisa Loftus, was now the plan--the game--of my friendly brother officer; and with what success we shall see ere long.
I was full of thought while riding slowly home to the barracks on the Thanet Road; I longed for Cora's coming to unravel the mystery of Louisa's conduct, and yet dreaded to face my cousin or broach the matter to her. I was inspired with sympathy for the poor lost creature I had just quitted, and full of indulgence for her mode of life, and excuses for her fate and fall. Her singular beauty greatly aided emotions such as these, for the morbid state of her health lent a wondrous lustre to her dark blue eyes, and marvellous transparency to her lovely complexion; and I felt extreme satisfaction that it was in my power to gratify a wish that was, perhaps, her last one--to pay a pilgrimage to the resting-place of her parents.
The sweet verse of honest Goldsmith occurred to me--
The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom is--to die!
At the same time I thought it very doubtful whether any such catastrophe would wring the padded bosom of Berkeley.
Had Agnes Auriol been a wrinkled crone, it may be a matter for consideration whether I--a young officer of lancers--would have been so exceedingly philanthropic in her cause. I hope I should.
On arriving at the barracks, my first task was to despatch Pitblado by the night train to head-quarters, with a note to M'Goldrick, the paymaster, for at least fifty pounds, saying I wanted the money, and must have it by noon to-morrow.
*CHAPTER XIX.*
But the spite on't is, no praise Is due at all to me; Love with me hath made mad no staies Had it any been but she.
Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this Twelve dozen in her place. SIR JOHN SUCKLING.
Promptly, by an early train, Willie Pitblado arrived with the cash from M'Goldrick, and with that which alike puzzled and provoked me--a brief note from my friend, Jack Studhome, the adjutant, advising me that, from rumours he, Scriven, and Wilford had heard--rumours circulated insidiously, he knew not how or by whom, in the billiard-rooms we frequented, and indeed about Maidstone barracks generally--my visits to a certain romantic cottage near the Reculvers were well known. I might mean no wrong, certainly; but was it judicious or wise to get myself into a scrape with a brother officer?
There was no mistaking the object of this friendly epistle of Jack's, and it filled me with fresh anger against Berkeley. Who but he could insidiously spread those reports concerning what he alone knew or could affect an interest in! I knew his subtle and crooked mode of working; and his ultimate object was undoubtedly that this rumour against me should ere long reach Chillingham Park.
Yet, removed as I was from head-quarters, I could do nothing in the matter, and for the present had only "to grin and bear it."
Morning parade over, in obedience to Colonel Beverley's order, I was putting the troop through a course of sword and lance exercise personally, and was so earnestly engaged in the work of the moment, that I did not perceive a dashing phaeton, drawn by a pair of spanking grey ponies, attended by an outrider in livery, on a showy bay horse, that entered the barrack-yard, and drew up close by, as if its occupants wished to observe the progress of the drill.
After the lapse of a few minutes, Troop Sergeant-Major Stapylton trotted his horse forward, and said--
"Beg pardon, Captain Norcliff, but some friends of yours are waiting for you, sir."
Turning in my saddle, how great was my surprise to see Lady Louisa and Cora in the phaeton, which was driven by Berkeley, who was attired in a very accurate suit of forenoon mufti. Dismounting, I sheathed my sword, threw my reins to Stapylton, and saying to my lieutenant, Jocelyn--
"Frank, like a good fellow, finish off this piece of drill for me, please," advanced at once to greet my fair friends, whose visit, I felt, was due to Cora.
"How interesting this is!" said Lady Louisa, presenting her carefully-gloved little hand, with a brilliant smile, as she proceeded to imitate my last order, "Prepare to dismount! one; the lance to be raised out of the bucket, by the right hand sliding down to the extent of the arm; two--ah, I forget two; you are quite an enthusiast."
Under this banter I detected, or thought so, a deep glance of anxiety and hidden meaning, more especially as she added, "You evidently think more of this drill-sergeant's work than of me."
My heart was so filled with sudden joy that I knew not what I said; but I kissed Cora's hand to conceal my confusion.
"And what of good Sir Nigel, Cora?" I asked.
"Papa comes to England to see you go away, and to take me home," replied my cousin, in a calm voice; "home to Calderwood, when all is over."
"All is over?"
"I mean when the army departs."
"And you are on leave, I perceive, Berkeley?"
"Aw--haw--yes, for a day or so. Doocid bore the work at Maidstone," he drawled out.
I was obliged as yet to dissemble, though there was an ill-concealed air of smiling triumph about my comrade that gave me considerable uneasiness.
"And now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" said Lady Louisa, tapping me on the epaulette with her parasol, and speaking with an air of mock severity. "So the rules of society are to be inverted to suit your lancer tastes; the ladies are to wait upon the gentlemen? Quartered actually in Canterbury, and yet you never came near us."
"Lady Louisa," I was beginning, yet not knowing what to say, as I could never imagine that she doubted the reason of my non-appearance at Chillingham.
"What am I to think of it?" she continued, smiling.
Berkeley laughed. I believe the fellow thought we were on the eve of a coolness.
"Remember my constitutional timidity," I urged.
"Timidity in a captain of lancers!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"I ventured to hope that the earl, at least, might have remembered me."
"You knew that I was at Chillingham Park, it appears?" she observed, with a pretty air of pique.
"Yes," said I, soothed by her glance of fond reproach; "Sir Nigel's letter told me so."
"Yet you never came even once to visit us, and I longed so much to see you, for I had a good deal to gossip about concerning our residence at Calderwood."
"But the earl omitted to leave a card, and your mamma never wrote; and then the rules of society!" I urged, still harping on my grievance.
"The rules of fiddlesticks! When did lovers ever heed them?" she asked, in a rapid whisper, while Berkeley addressed a few words to Jocelyn, and while her dark and sparkling eyes flashed a glance that made me forget all. "Well, here are the cards of papa and mamma, with an express invitation to Chillingham. You will dine with us this evening, won't you?"
"With pleasure."
"Papa and mamma are to dine at the Priory, but on another day you shall see them."
"And the hour?"
"Eight."
"Eight!" I repeated, for that was the very hour of my appointment with Agnes Auriol, and the park lay in an opposite direction from the barracks. Here was a dilemma! But I resolved, if possible, to keep faith with both, and said--
"Excuse me, pray; but on reflection I find it impossible to be present at that hour."
"Indeed!"
"But I shall present myself soon after in the drawing-room."
"What prevents you?" she asked, raising her dark eyebrows.
"Duty, unfortunately."
"In that case I must excuse you. Allegiance to me should not precede that which you owe to the Queen. Till this evening, then, adieu."
She presented her hand, and bowed with inimitable grace. I took it in mine, and lingering, would, I am sure, have kissed it, but for the troop close by, and dozens of idlers who were lolling at the barrack windows in their shell-jackets or shirt-sleeves. There was a glorious smile on her bright face that contrasted strongly with the sad and wistful glance of Cora's soft dark eyes; and, as the phaeton swept away from the barrack-square, I forgot to bid adieu to Berkeley, though I wished him in very warm quarters indeed. I forgot even to address Cora, or rejoin the troop. I forgot all about Studhome's letter and its import; and, leaving Jocelyn to finish the drill as he pleased, walked mechanically to my quarters, filled by a great revulsion of feeling, and remembering only that Louisa loved me--loved me still! Of that day's close could I have foreseen the end! I counted the hours that intervened between the time that I should be at the park. I resolved, if possible, to leave nothing undone to gain the good opinion of the earl and countess; and, on after thought, I regretted that I had excused my appearance at dinner, and believed that I might have paid my last visit to the cottage at the Reculvers an hour or so earlier, and performed my task of philanthropy, even at the risk of being seen; though, sooth to say, I rather dreaded that event, circumstanced as I was with Louisa; and since the clouds that lowered upon my horizon were dispersed now, the unfortunate victim of Berkeley could be of no further use to me.