The Master of the Ceremonies

by George Manville Fenn

very horses were asleep,standing bent of knee and with pendent heads. One of the wheelers,however, uttered a sigh now and then as if unhappy in its dreams, for itwas suffering not from nightmare, a trouble that might have befallen anyhorse, but from the weight of the sleeping postboy on its back. The manevidently believed in his steed as an old friend, and had lain forwardover the pommel of his saddle, half clasping the horse's neck, and wassleeping heavily, while his companion, who rode one of the leaders, haddismounted and seated himself upon the turf where the road was cut downthrough the chalk, so that his legs were in the channel and his backagainst a steep bank.

  They had been asleep quite an hour, when a quick step was heard, amisty-looking figure in a long grey wrapper, and closely-veiled, camealong the road, stopped short by the postboys, retreated and whisperedsoftly as the turf opposite was reached:

  "Hist! Are you there? Oh, gracious! What a wicked girl I am! He hasnot come."

  The figure seemed to take courage and approached the chaise again.

  "He may be inside," she said softly, and going on tip-toe to the doorher hand was raised to the fastening, when one of the wheelers snortedand half roused the mounted postboy.

  "Hullo, then, old gal," he muttered loudly. "Yo--yo--yo--yo--yo!Gate--gate."

  "What shall I do?" exclaimed the veiled figure, and she seized one ofthe spokes of the wheel and clung to it as the other postboy, slightlyroused by his companion, took up his cry and shouted drowsily:

  "Yo--yo--yo--yo--yo! Gate--gate!"

  The horses sighed, and the men subsided into their nap, a long ride onthe previous evening having made them particularly drowsy.

  "Talking in their sleep," said the veiled figure, raising herself andtrying the handle of the chaise door, opening it, and reaching in tomake sure whether it was tenanted or no.

  "Not come," she sighed. "He must be late, or else I've missed him. Heis looking for me. Oh, what a wicked girl I am! What's that?"

  She turned sharply round, darting behind the chaise and among the treesas a faint sound was heard; and this directly after took the form offootsteps, a short slight man approaching on the other side of the road,stopping to gaze at the chaise and then backing slowly into the lowbush-like trees, which effectually hid him from sight.

  There was utter stillness again for a few moments, when the dull soundof steps was once more heard, and another short slight figure approachedarmed with a stout cane.

  He kept to the grass and walked straight up to the sleeping postboys,examined them, and then stood listening.

  "Just in time," he said to himself. "Drowsy dogs! Ha--ha--ha! I wishDick Linnell were here. I should like the fool to see her go. Hang it!I'd have given Harry Payne fifty to help him on the road if he hadasked me. Get rid of her for good, curse her! I'm sick of the wholelot. Eh! What, the devil--"

  "What are you doing here, Burnett?" said Richard Linnell, crossing theroad from the Downs in company with Mellersh.

  "What am I doing? Taking the air. Did you think I was going to elopein a post-chaise. Hist! don't speak aloud or you'll wake the boys.But, I say--hang it all--have I been humbugged? Was it you then whowere going off with Claire, and not Sir Harry Payne?"

  "Do you want me to horsewhip you, Burnett?" cried Linnell in a low,passionate voice.

  "Not I. There, don't be cross. I can't help it, if she is going."

  Linnell turned from him impatiently, but Burnett followed.

  "Let her go, man. What's the good of worrying about her? Better forboth of us."

  "Come aside," said Mellersh softly. "Here they are."

  Linnell seemed disposed to stand fast, but Mellersh took his arm.

  "Look here, my dear boy," he whispered. "You don't want to interfere.Let her go."

  Linnell turned upon him fiercely, but he yielded to his companion'stouch, and they walked on some twenty yards, followed by Burnett, whowas laughing to himself and nibbing his hands.

  "Lucky I heard," he said to himself. "I only want to be satisfied."

  The steps approaching were not those of a lady and gentleman, but ofLord Carboro' and Barclay, who, in utter ignorance of anyone but thepostboys being at hand, stood for a few minutes listening.

  "Yes, Barclay," said the former. "I could not bear for the poor girl togo without making a step to save her. I'm an old fool, I know, but notthe first of my kind. I tell you, asking nothing, expecting nothing,I'd give ten thousand pounds to feel that I had not been deceived inher."

  "Pay up then, my lord, for I tell you that you have been deceived. Oncemore: the lady is May Burnett, her sister."

  "I'm assured that it is Claire Denville, and if it is, Barclay, I'llsave her, damme, I will, if I shoot the man."

  "But, my lord--"

  "Don't talk to me, sir. I tell you if I saw her going to the churchwith a fellow like young Linnell I'd give her a handsome present; but Ican't bear for such a girl as that to be going wrong."

  "Unless it was with you, my lord," said Barclay abruptly.

  "You confounded rascal! How dare you!" snarled Lord Carboro'. "Do youthink I have no good feeling in me? There, you wouldn't believe in mydisinterestedness, any more than I would in yours. Don't talk. Whatshall we do? Pay the postboys and send them off?"

  "No, my lord: stand aside, and make sure that we have made no mistake."

  "If _you_ have made no mistake," said his lordship quickly; and he andhis companion had hardly drawn aside into the convenient wood to swellthe circle gathering round the intending evaders, when Richard Linnellmade a step from his concealment and was arrested by Mellersh, asBurnett whispered:

  "What are they here for?"

  Just then one of the postboys yawned and stretched himself, making noisesufficient to awaken his fellow, who rose from the bank and flicked hiswhip.

  "How long have we been here?" said the man on the horse.

  "Hours, and not a soul come. My ticker's been asleep as well," hemuttered, after pulling out his watch. "I believe the 'osses have beenhaving a nap too. I say, I'm getting sick of this."

  "Think they'll come?"

  "Hang me if I know. Guv'nor seems to have been about right."

  "Why, what did he say?"

  "You was there and heard him."

  "No: I was in the stable."

  "Said two po'chays was ordered, and he'd only horses for one. That itwas certain as it was a 'lopement, that both parties wouldn't come, andperhaps neither of 'em. If they did, Sir Matthy Bray and Sir HarryPayne had better fight it out, and the gals go home. Hist! Is thatthem?"

  The two men listened attentively as steps were heard, and the listenersin the wood were all on the _qui vive_.

  Directly after, Sir Harry Payne came up.

  "Seen a lady, my lads?"

  "No, sir. Been on the watch ever since we come, and no one's beennear," said the first postboy.

  "Humph! Past time. Horses fresh?"

  "Fresh as daisies, Sir Harry. Don't you be afraid. No one'll catchus."

  "Are you sure you've both been watching? Not been asleep, have you?"

  "Sleep a-top of a horse, Sir Harry? Not we."

  "Mount!" cried Sir Harry to the second man. "Here she comes."

  What followed was the business of a few moments. A slight little veiledfigure came panting up, and was caught in Sir Harry's arms.

  "At last!" he cried. "This way, little pet-curse the woman! What areyou doing here?"

  Claire Denville's cloak dropped from her shoulders as, panting andutterly exhausted with the chase after her sister, she flung her armsabout her and held her fast.

  "May!" she panted. "Sister, are you mad?"

  "You'll make me in a moment," cried Sir Harry. "Curse you! Why do youinterfere?"

  "May!" cried Claire again. "For pity's sake--for the sake of yourhusband, do not do this wicked thing. Come back with me; come back. Noone shall know. Sister, dear sister, before it is too late."

  "Nay, it is too late," whispered Sir Harry.
"Choose; will you go backto misery and disgrace?"

  At the edge of the wood the scene was just visible, but the words wereinaudible. Burnett had not at first recognised his wife; but Claire'svoice rang out clear, and with a sneer he turned to Richard Linnell:

  "There!" he said. "What did I say? What are you going to do now?"

  "Try and save your foolish wife, idiot, if you are not man enough tointerfere."

  He sprang out of the wood as he spoke, but ere he could