a woman you are!You don't know what has taken place. I tell you this; she is mine.All she wants is the excuse and opportunity that she finds to-night withme. The old man watches her like a hawk."
"Is this really so, Rockley?"
"On my honour. I should not have done what I have if she were notwilling. I've a chaise and four waiting outside the lower gate behindhere."
"You have?"
"It has been there this half hour, and we are only waiting for ouropportunity. Now then, will you help me?"
"Well," said Mrs Pontardent hesitating, "if it is that--"
"It is like that, I tell you; but she wants it to appear that she had nohand in it, to keep up the fiction. You see?"
"Yes," said the woman, rather hoarsely; "but I don't like it, Rockley."
"Friends or enemies?--one word?" he said sternly.
"Friends," she said quickly. "What am I to do?"
"Go back at once, and get hold of young Denville. He's half-tipsysomewhere."
"Yes."
"Tell him he has shamefully neglected his sister, and that he is to takeher out in the garden for a walk straight down the broad grass path, andbeg her pardon."
"But--"
"Not a word. Do what I say. The boy will obey you like a sheep dog."
"And then?"
"What then? That is all."
"But, Rockley, no violence."
"Bah! Rubbish! Do as I bid you. I shall push the boy into a bush;that's all."
There was a dead silence.
"Must I do this, Rockley?"
"Yes, you must. Go at once. You shall not be mixed in the affair atall. No one can blame you, for the boy is too tipsy to recollectanything to-morrow. Now go."
There was a rustle of a dress, and Cora had just time to draw out ofsight as Mrs Pontardent passed her.
Cora heard her voice as she went by. It was almost like a sigh, but thewords were articulate, and they were:
"God forgive me! It is too bad."
What to do?
Cora stood motionless, her pulses beating furiously, and the bloodsurging to her brain, and seeming to keep her from thinking out someplan.
Major Rockley--the cruel, insolent libertine--had a post-chaise waiting;by a trick Claire was to be got out, and down the broad walk, led like asheep to the slaughter by her weak, half-tipsy brother, and then carriedoff. The plan seemed to Cora devilish in its cunning, and the flush ofher ardent blood intoxicated her with a strange feeling of excitement--awild kind of joy.
It was all for her. Claire away--carried off, or eloped with Rockley,Richard Linnell would rage for a week, and then forget her. Poorfellow! How he had struggled to hide that limp, and how handsome helooked. How she loved him--her idol--who had saved her life. He wouldbe hers now, hers alone, and there would be no handsome, sweet-voicedrival in the way to win him to think always of her soft, grey, lovingeyes--so gentle, so appealing in their gaze, that they seemed to belooking out of the darkness at her now.
Yes, there they were so firm and true--so softly appealing, and yet sofull of womanly dignity that, as she hated her, so at the same time sheloved.
"And in perhaps half an hour she would be away--on the road to London--in the Major's arms."
"And Richard Linnell will be free to love me, and me alone?"
She said it aloud, and then tore at her throat, for a thought came thatmade the blood surge up and nearly suffocate her.
"Why, he would curse me if he knew, and loathe me to his dying day."
She took a few hasty steps forward, and then staggered and stoppedshort.
"I must have been mad!" she panted. "Am I so bad as that?"
She hurried towards the house, and narrowly missed her late partner asshe reached one of the windows.
Thank heaven! she was not too late. There sat Claire where she had lefther. No: it was some other lady.
She hurried in as quickly as she could without exciting notice.
Where was Claire?
She went from room to room, but she was not visible.
Where was Richard Linnell?
Nowhere to be seen.
If she could find Colonel Mellersh, or Mr Barclay--but no; there wasnot a soul she knew, and from different parts of the room men wereapproaching her, evidently to ask her to dance.
She escaped into another saloon, and there was Denville.
She took a few steps towards him, but he hurried away as if to attend toa call from their hostess, who was smiling at the end of the room. Thenext moment Cora saw her take the arm of the Master of the Ceremoniesand go through a farther door.
Impossible to speak to him now. It was as if Mrs Pontardent haddivined the reason of her coming, and was fighting against her with allher might.
Another gentleman approached, but she shrank away nervously, expectingeach moment to see again her companion of the dark walk.
All at once, to her great joy, she caught sight of Mrs Barclay, lookingin colour like a full-blown cabbage-rose, and exhaling scent.
She hurried up to the plump pink dame, to be saluted with:
"Ah, my dear, how handsome you do look to-night!"
"Where's Claire Denville?" cried Cora huskily.
"Claire, my dear? Oh, she was with me ever so long, but she has justgone down the grounds."
A spasm seemed to shoot through Cora Dean as she said to herself: "Toolate!"
Volume Two, Chapter XXV.
MELLERSH IS CONVINCED.
"Well, Dick," said Mellersh, as he sought Linnell out, after a strollround the rooms in search of Cora Dean, "how long are you going to keepyourself on the gridiron?"
"I don't understand you."
"Then I shall not try to explain."
"Have you seen anything?"
"N-no."
"Don't hesitate, man; you have?"
"No, Dick, no. Of course, I've seen a certain young lady, and I've seenRockley hanging about."
"Well, that proves nothing, does it?"
"My dear Dick, why should I waste my breath on a man in your condition?"
"My condition, you wretched old cynic? You never knew what it was tolove."
"Wrong. I have loved, and I am in love now."
"You? You?"
"Yes, my boy, and with a woman who cares for somebody else; but I don'tgo stalking about like a tragedy hero, and rolling my eyes and cursingthe whole world. If I cannot have the moon, I shall not cry for it."
"Hist! There goes Rockley."
"Well, let him go."
Richard Linnell made no reply, but quietly followed the Major.
"I mustn't let them meet without me there," thought Mellersh. "Thescoundrel might hit him badly next time."
He strode off after Richard Linnell, but missed him, and it was quitehalf an hour before they met again.
"I have been about the gate," said Richard hoarsely. "There is nopost-chaise there."
"Then it is a hoax."
"No; I cannot think that it is. Rockley is yonder, and he is watchingabout in a curious, restless way that means something."
"Where is he?"
"Over there by the saloon window."
"Oh, my dear Dick, I am hungry for a good hand at whist, and to win alittle Philistine gold, and here you keep me hanging about after you,looking for a mare's nest."
"I can't stop," said Linnell. "Where shall I find you if I want you?"
"Here, on this seat, under this bush, smoking a cigar. No; I'll stickby you, my lad."
They went off together, and, going straight up to the window pointed outby Linnell, found that Rockley was not there.
"I left him there, I'll swear," said Linnell savagely. "No, don't letus separate; I may want you."
"Quite right; and I may want you," replied Mellersh.
They walked hastily round, looking in at window after window, but therewas no sign of Rockley. The throng of guests were dancing, playing, orconversing, and the scene was very brilliant; but the tall, dark officerof the dragoons
was the only one of his party that they could not see.
"Mellersh," exclaimed Linnell suddenly, "with all my watchfulness, Iseem to have failed."
"Why do you say that?"
"Claire!"
"Claire? Why, I saw her seated on that rout-chair five minutes ago."
"Yes; but she has gone."
"Quick, then--down to the gate! We must see them there."
"Unless they have passed through," said Linnell, with a groan. "I oughtnot to have left the entrance."
"Don't talk," said Mellersh, almost savagely now, he seemed so movedfrom his ordinary calm. "I don't want to think you
The Master of the Ceremonies Page 58