CHAPTER XVIII.
MARK WYLDER'S SLAVE.
Nearly two hours had passed before they returned. As they did so, RachelLake went swiftly and silently before her brother. The moon had gonedown, and the glen was darker than ever. Noiselessly they re-entered thelittle hall of Redman's Farm. The candles were still burning in thesitting-room, and the light was dazzling after the profound darkness inwhich they had been for so long.
Captain Lake did not look at all like a London dandy now. His dress wasconfoundedly draggled; the conventional countenance, too, was wanting.There was a very natural savagery and dejection there, and a wild leer inhis yellow eyes.
Rachel sat down. No living woman ever showed a paler face, and she staredwith a look that was sharp and stern upon the wainscot before her.
For some minutes they were silent; and suddenly, with an exceeding bittercry, she stood up, close to him, seizing him in her tiny hands by thecollar, and with wild eyes gazing into his, she said--
'See what you've brought me to--wretch, wretch, wretch!'
And she shook him with violence as she spoke. It was wonderful how thatfair young face could look so terrible.
'There, Radie, there,' said Lake, disengaging her fingers. 'You're alittle hysterical, that's all. It will be over in a minute; but don'tmake a row. You're a good girl, Radie. For Heaven's sake, don't spoil allby folly now.'
He was overawed and deprecatory.
'A slave! only think--a slave! Oh frightful, frightful! Is it a dream? Ohfrightful, frightful! Stanley, Stanley, it would be _mercy_ to kill me,'she broke out again.
'Now, Radie, listen to reason, and don't make a noise; you know weagreed, _you_ must go, and _I can't_ go with you.'
Lake was cooler by this time, and his sister more excited than beforethey went out.
'I used to be brave; my courage I think is gone; but who'd have imaginedwhat's before me?'
Stanley walked to the window and opened the shutter a little. He forgothow dark it was. The moon had gone down. He looked at his watch and thenat Rachel. She was sitting, and in no calmer state; serene enough inattitude, but the terribly wild look was unchanged. He looked at hiswatch again, and held it to his ear, and consulted it once more before heplaced the tiny gold disk again in his pocket.
'This won't do,' he muttered.
With one of the candles in his hand he went out and made a hurried,peeping exploration, and soon, for the rooms were quickly counted inRedman's Farm, he found her chamber small, neat, _simplex munditiis_.Bright and natty were the chintz curtains, and the little toilet set out,not inelegantly, and her pet piping-goldfinch asleep on his perch, withhis bit of sugar between the wires of his cage; her pillow so white andunpressed, with its little edging of lace. Were slumbers sweet as of oldever to know it more? What dreams were henceforward to haunt it? Shadowswere standing about that lonely bed already. I don't know whether StanleyLake felt anything of this, being very decidedly of the earth earthy. Butthere are times when men are translated from their natures, and forced tobe romantic and superstitious.
When he came back to the drawing-room, a toilet bottle of _eau decologne_ in his hand, with her lace handkerchief he bathed her templesand forehead. There was nothing very brotherly in his look as he peeredinto her pale, sharp features, during the process. It was the dark andpallid scrutiny of a familiar of the Holy Office, bringing a victim backto consciousness.
She was quickly better.
'There, don't mind me,' she said sharply; and getting up she looked downat her dress and thin shoes, and seeming to recollect herself, she tookthe candle he had just set down, and went swiftly to her room.
Gliding without noise from place to place, she packed a small blackleather bag with a few necessary articles. Then changed her dressquickly, put on her walking boots, a close bonnet and thick veil, andtaking her purse, she counted over its contents, and then standing in themidst of the room looked round it with a great sigh, and a strange look,as if it was all new to her. And she threw back her veil, and goinghurriedly to the toilet, mechanically surveyed herself in the glass. Andshe looked fixedly on the pale features presented to her, and said--
'Rachel Lake, Rachel Lake! what are you now?'
And so, with knitted brows and stern lips, a cadaveric gaze was returnedon her from the mirror.
A few minutes later her brother, who had been busy down stairs, put hishead in and asked--
'Will you come with me now, Radie, or do you prefer to wait here?'
'I'll stay here--that is, in the drawing-room,' she answered, and theface was withdrawn.
In the little hall Stanley looked again at his watch, and getting quietlyout, went swiftly through the tiny garden, and once upon the mill-road,ran at a rapid pace down towards the town.
The long street of Gylingden stretched dim and silent before him. Slumberbrooded over the little town, and his steps sounded sharp and hollowamong the houses. He slackened his pace, and tapped sharply at the littlewindow of that modest post-office, at which the young ladies in the ponycarriage had pulled up the day before, and within which Luke Waggot waswont to sleep in a sort of wooden box that folded up and appeared to be achest of drawers all day. Luke took care of Mr. Larkin's dogs, andgroomed Mr. Wylder's horse, and 'cleaned up' his dog-cart, for Mark beingclose about money, and finding that the thing was to be done more cheaplythat way, put up his horse and dog-cart in the post-office premises, andso evaded the livery charges of the 'Brandon Arms.'
But Luke was not there; and Captain Lake recollecting his habits and hishaunt, hurried on to the 'Silver Lion,' which has its gable towards thecommon, only about a hundred steps away, for distances are not great inGylingden. Here were the flow of soul and of stout, long pipes, longyarns, and tolerably long credits; and the humble scapegraces of the townresorted thither for the pleasures of a club-life, and often revelleddeep into the small hours of the morning.
So Luke came forth.
D-- it, where's the note?' said the captain, rummaging uneasily in hispockets.
'You know me--eh!'
'Captain Lake. Yes, Sir.'
'Well--oh! here it is.'
It was a scrap pencilled on the back of a letter--
'LUKE WAGGOT,
'Put the horse to and drive the dog-cart to the "White House." Look outfor me there. We must catch the up mail train at Dollington. Be lively.If Captain Lake chooses to drive you need not come.
'M. WYLDER.'
'I'll drive,' said Captain Lake. 'Lose no time and I'll give youhalf-a-crown.'
Luke stuck on his greasy wideawake, and in a few minutes more thedog-cart was trundled out into the lane, and the horse harnessed, wentbetween the shafts with that wonderful cheerfulness with which they bearto be called up under startling circumstances at unseasonable hours.
'Easily earned, Luke,' said Captain Lake, in his soft tones.
The captain had buttoned the collar of his loose coat across his face,and it was dark beside. But Luke knew his peculiar smile, and presumedit; so he grinned facetiously as he put the coin in his breeches pocketand thanked him; and in another minute the captain, with a lighted cigarbetween his lips, mounted to the seat, took the reins, the horse boundedoff, and away rattled the light conveyance, sparks flying from the road,at a devil of a pace, down the deserted street of Gylingden, and quicklymelted in darkness.
That night a spectre stood by old Tamar's bedside, in shape of her youngmistress, and shook her by the shoulder, and stooping, said sternly,close in her face--
'Tamar, I'm going away--only for a few days; and mind this--I'd rather be_dead_ than any creature living should know it. Little Margery must notsuspect--you'll manage that. Here's the key of my bed-room--say I'msick--and you must go in and out, and bring tea and drinks, and talk andwhisper a little, you understand, as you might with a sick person, andkeep the shutters closed; and if Miss Brandon sends to ask me to theHall, say I've a headache, and fear I can't go. You understand meclearly, Tamar?'
'Yes, Miss Radie,' answered old Tam
ar, wonder-stricken, with a strangeexpression of fear in her face.
'And listen,' she continued, 'you must go into my room, and bring themessage back, as if from me, with _my love_ to Miss Brandon; and if sheor Mrs. William Wylder, the vicar's wife, should call to see me, alwayssay I'm asleep and a little better. You see exactly what I mean?'
'Yes, Miss,' answered Tamar, whose eyes were fixed in a sort offascination, full on those of her mistress.
'If Master Stanley should call, he is to do just as he pleases. You usedto be accurate, Tamar; may I depend upon you?'
'Yes, Ma'am, certainly.'
'If I thought you'd fail me now, Tamar, I should _never_ come back.Good-night, Tamar. There--don't bless me. Good-night.'
When the light wheels of the dog-cart gritted on the mill-road before thelittle garden gate of Redman's Farm, the tall slender figure of RachelLake was dimly visible, standing cloaked and waiting by it. Silently shehanded her little black leather bag to her brother, and then there was apause. He stretched his hand to help her up.
In a tone that was icy and bitter, she said--
'To save myself I would not do it. You deserve no love from me--you'veshowed me none--_never_, Stanley; and yet I'm going to give the mostdesperate proof of love that ever sister gave--all for your sake; andit's guilt, guilt, but my _fate_, and I'll go, and you'll never thank me;that's all.'
In a moment more she sat beside him; and silent as the dead in Charon'sboat, away they glided toward the 'White House which lay upon the highroad to Dollington.
The sleepy clerk that night in the Dollington station stamped twofirst-class tickets for London, one of which was for a gentleman, and theother for a cloaked lady, with a very thick veil, who stood outside onthe platform; and almost immediately after the scream of the engine washeard piercing the deep tatting, the Cyclopean red lamps glared nearerand nearer, and the palpitating monster, so stupendous and so docile,came smoothly to a stand-still before the trelliswork and hollyhocks ofthat pretty station.
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