Major, and hence that serenade. But for the horrible accidentthat night Claire would have come to the window and answered to themusical call.
What a boyish, childish idiot he had been: dreaming always of a vain,weak, frivolous woman, whom he had in his blind idolatry endowed withall the beauties and virtues of her sex.
"Well," he said with a scornful laugh, "I ought to have known howartificial she would be. Like father, like daughter; but it is cruel,cruel work."
He laughed bitterly.
"What an idiot I am!" he cried angrily. "A boy in such matters--achild. Well, it is a lesson. I might have known that she would be asready to receive attentions as her sister, and now I may go, and consolemyself by making love to the handsome actress who is ready to make loveto me."
"Another actress," he said aloud, as he strode on with his jealous angerup to boiling-point, his face flushed, and his teeth set fast.
"Liar!" he exclaimed. "Fool! Idiot again! I will not believe it.Claire Denville is too true and sweet to listen to a man like that."
He turned and went back faster than he had come, but he had walked somedistance, and the return journey gave him time to cool a little and toask himself whether he was going to watch--to act the eavesdropper--andwhether this was a manly part to play.
His indecision increased as he approached the down side of the stile,and he was about to turn and retreat when an excited voice, speakingloudly, sent a thrill through him, and running to the opening he leapedover into the cornfield.
At the sight of Linnell, Claire, who had been up to now strong andheroic, grew feeble and helpless.
"Mr Linnell! Help!" she cried, as she struggled to reach him; and asRockley, white with fury at the interruption, loosed his hold, RichardLinnell was upon him, striking him a blow full in the chest, which senthim staggering back to fall amongst the corn.
Linnell would have followed, but he caught sight of Claire totteringtowards the stile, and he turned to help her, but Rockley had sprung upand, with a hoarse cry of rage, struck at Linnell with his riding-whip,the plaited whalebone falling upon his cheek, and making a weal rightacross his face.
Major Rockley had better have restrained his rage, for in an instantthat blow transformed Richard Linnell, the calm and quiet, into asavage.
He turned round with a roar more than a cry, and sprang upon Rockley;there was a fierce struggle, ending in the riding-whip being torn fromits owner's grasp, and for the space of a couple of minutes there wasthe sound of the lash cutting through the air, and the blows that fellupon the tight undress uniform.
No words were uttered, but there was the scuffling of feet, the hoarsepanting of excited men, and the corn was trampled down.
"There," cried Linnell at last, flinging Rockley from him, and throwingthe whip in his face, "dog and coward! You have had the thrashing youdeserved. Strike me again if you dare."
Major Rockley picked up the whip, and brushed the dust from his uniform.He strove hard to make his convulsed face smooth and to force a smile,while he mastered the desire to writhe and utter impatient cries, sokeen was the agony he felt.
"No," he said, in a low hissing whisper, "you are a stronger man than I,and when we meet again it shall be on equal terms."
He accompanied his words with a vindictive look that told RichardLinnell plainly enough how they would encounter next.
He repressed a shudder, and then a pang that seemed to pierce his heartshot through him, for with a malicious smile Rockley said:
"I did not know the lady had made an appointment with you. Of course,she had to keep up appearances. But there: I'll say no more."
He raised his cap mockingly, and went off across the cornfield, leavingRichard Linnell stung to the heart, his brow knit, and his eyes fixedupon Claire, who, white as ashes, and her face convulsed by the agonywithin her breast, crouched where she had sunk upon the lower steps ofthe stile.
Volume Two, Chapter II.
"IMPOSSIBLE!"
"Claire--Miss Denville," cried Richard Linnell, mastering the cruelthoughts suggested by Rockley's words, "how dared that scoundrel insultyou like this!"
"Hush!" said Claire agitatedly. "Don't--pray don't speak to me. Icannot bear it."
"You are ill. You are faint. Let me help you over these bars and getyou to one of the cottages."
"No; I shall be better directly. Don't speak to me now."
She bent down, covered her face with her hands, and the tears came nowin a passionate burst, while he went down on his knee beside her, laidone hand upon her arm, and, his doubts and suspicions all driven away byher grief, tried to whisper words of comfort as he bade her be calm.
Major Rockley had walked with jaunty military stride for the first twoor three hundred yards with assumed calmness; then he gave vent to hisrage in a torrent of oaths, and strode on rapidly out of sight, beatingthe air fiercely with his whip, and leaving the fields clear of hispresence as Richard Linnell knelt by the sobbing girl.
"Miss Denville--Claire," he said again, as he now possessed himself ofher hand, while in his anger and remorse at having doubted her he pouredforth his words in quick, excited tones.
"I had not thought to speak to you like this, and at such a time, but Icannot bear to see you weep--it cuts me to the heart, for I love you--Claire, dear Claire, I love you dearly as man can love."
"Oh, hush, hush!" she moaned piteously, weak now with her emotion andthe scene she had gone through.
"I must speak now," he went on. "I have no opportunities of seeing youand telling you all I feel. Claire, I would have come and askedpermission to address you, but I have been obliged to feel that mypresence was not welcome to Mr Denville, and you--you have been so coldand distant to me of late."
She did not speak, but kept one hand to her bent-down face, while heheld the other tightly clasped in his.
"You do not speak," he whispered. "Claire--you are not angry? I havesuffered so--there, I confess--such jealous thoughts, such bitter cruelthoughts, though I had no right--no claim upon your love. But now,forgive me--only tell me--there was nothing between you and that man?"
She raised her head quickly, and dropped her hand.
"You ask me that!" she said proudly.
"Forgive me. You would if you knew all. I felt that you had come tomeet him, and I was tortured with these jealous doubts, but I would notbelieve, and I came, as you saw. And now, Claire, one word--my love!"
Her eyes half closed as he drew her towards him; her lips trembled, andher colour went and came. Then, as if her memory, that had been veiledfor the moment, tore aside the film of forgetfulness, she thrust himfrom her, and, with a look of anguish in her eyes, started to her feet.
"No, no!" she cried with a shiver; "it is impossible!"
"Hush! don't say that," he whispered. "Claire, I could not bear it. Iknow I am not well-to-do, but I love you. I cannot offer you a richhome, but I give you a love that is wholly yours. Don't--don't refuseme--don't make me think that you despise me."
"No, no, it is not that," she sobbed wildly. "You must not speak to me.It is impossible."
"Impossible?" he cried, holding her hands tightly.
"Yes, impossible."
"No," he said with a quiet smile, "it is not impossible. You will growto the knowledge by-and-by that there is one who lives for your sake,whose every thought is yours, and these little obstacles will melt awaywhen you know me as I am. Claire, I only ask for a little hope--to goaway with the thought that I have no rival for your love."
"Don't speak to me--don't think of me again!" she cried, with a wildlook in her face. "Heaven bless you, Mr Linnell! Think well of me,whatever comes, but all that is over now."
"Over? No, no; don't say that. Claire--my love!"
He still held her hands in his, and as their eyes met her lips quivered,and her sweet face was drawn with anguish. It was a hard fight, but sheconquered, and tearing herself away, she crossed the stile, and he sawher with bent head hurrying towards her home.
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nbsp; "It is impossible--impossible," he muttered, as he stood leaning againstthe stile. "No; she may say that a thousand times, but I shall hold tomy faith, and this affair will give me strength."
He walked slowly homeward, dreaming for a time of Claire's anguishedface, and then the sight of a uniform brought back the thought of theMajor, and the punishment he had received.
"Will he resent it?" he asked himself.
The answer was awaiting him later on at home, where he encountered CoraDean just going out for a drive.
The pony-carriage was at the door, and there was nothing for it but tohand the ladies in, Mrs Dean receiving the attention with a mostungracious look, while Cora smiled and looked flushed and pleased
The Master of the Ceremonies Page 35