CHAPTER VIII
UNMASKED
There are men who find as much pleasure in the intrigue as in thefruits of the intrigue; who take huge credit for their own finesse andothers' folly, and find a chief part of their good in watching, asfrom a raised seat, the movements of their dupes, astray in a maze oftheir planting. The more ingenious the machination they havecontrived, the nicer the calculations and the more narrow the point onwhich success turns, the sweeter is the sop to their vanity. Toreceive Lisette and Fifine in the same apartment within the hour; todivide the rebel and the minister by a door; to turn the scruple ofone person to the hurt of another, and know both to be ignorant--theseare feats on which they hug themselves as fondly as on the substantialrewards which crown their man[oe]uvres.
Hawkesworth was of this class; and it was with feelings such as thesethat he saw his nicely jointed plans revolving to the end he desired.To mould the fate of Tom Maitland at Cambridge, and of Sophia in town,and both to his own profit, fulfilled his sense of power. To time theweddings as nearly as possible, to match the one at noon and to marrythe other at night, gratified his vanity at the same time that ittickled his humour. But the more delicate the machinery, the smalleris the atom, and the slighter the jar that suffices to throw all outof gear. For a time, Oriana's absence, at a moment when every instantwas of price, and the interference of Tom's friends was hourlypossible, threatened to ruin all. It was in the enjoyment of therelief, which the news of her arrival afforded, that he returned tohis lodging this evening. He was in his most rollicking humour, andoverflowed with spirits; Tom's innocence and his own sagacityproviding him with ever fresh and more lively cause for merriment.
Nor was the lad's presence any check on his mood. Hawkesworth'sjoviality, darkling and satirical as it was, passed with Tom forlightness of heart. What he did not understand, he set down for Irish,and dubbed his companion the prince of good fellows. As they climbedthe stairs, he was trying with after-supper effusiveness to impressthis on his host. "I swear you are the best friend man ever had," hecried, his voice full of gratitude. "I vow you are."
Hawkesworth laughed, as he threw his hat and cane on the table, andproceeded to take off his sword that he might be more at ease. Hislaughter was a little louder than the other's statement seemed tojustify; but Tom was in no critical mood, and Hawkesworth's easyanswer "You'll say so when you know all, my lad," satisfied the boy.
"I do say it," he repeated earnestly, as he threw himself on thesettle, and, taking the poker, stirred the embers to see if a sparksurvived. "I do say it."
"And I say, well you may," Hawkesworth retorted, with a sneer fromwhich he could not refrain. "What do you think, dear lad, would havehappened, if I'd tried for the prize myself?" he continued. "If I'dstruck in for your pretty bit of red and white on my own account? Doyou remember Trumpington, and our first meeting? I'd the start of youthen, though you are going to be her husband."
"Twenty minutes' start," Tom answered.
Hawkesworth averted his face to hide a grin. "Twenty minutes?" hesaid. "Lord, so it was! Twenty minutes!" The boy reddened. "Why do youlaugh?" he asked.
"Why? Why, because twenty minutes is a long time--sometimes,"Hawkesworth answered. "But there, be easy, lad," he continued, seeingthat he was going too far, "be easy--no need to be jealous of me--andI'll brew you some punch. There is one thing certain," he continued,producing a squat Dutch bottle and some glasses from a cupboard by thedoor. "You have me to thank for her! There is no doubt about that."
"It's what I've always said," Tom answered. He was easily appeased."If you'd not asked my help when your chaise broke down atTrumpington--you'd just picked her up, you remember?--I should neverhave known her! Think of that!" he continued, his eyes shining with alover's enthusiasm; and he rose and trod the floor this way and that."Never to have known her, Hawkesworth!"
"Whom, to know was to love," the Irishman murmured, with thinly veiledirony.
"Right! Right, indeed!"
"And to love was to know--eh?"
"Right! Right, again!" poor Tom cried, striking the table.
For a moment Hawkesworth contemplated him with amusement. Then--"Well,here's to her!" he cried, raising his glass. "The finest woman in theworld!"
"And the best! And the best!" Tom answered.
"And the best! The toast is worthy the best of liquor," Hawkesworthcontinued, pushing over the other's glass; "but you'll have to drinkit cold, for the fire is out."
"The finest woman in the world, and the best!" the lad cried; his eyesglowed as he stood up reverently, his glass in his hand. "She is that,isn't she, Hawkesworth?"
"She is all that, I'll answer for it!" the Irishman replied, with astifled laugh. Lord! what fools there were in the world! "By this timeto-morrow she'll be yours! Think of it, lad!" he continued, with anugly-sounding, ugly-meaning laugh; at which one of his listenersshuddered.
But Tom, in the lover's seventh heaven, was not that one. His Oriana,who to others was a handsome woman, bold-eyed and free-tongued, was agoddess to him. He saw her through that glamour of first love thatblesses no man twice. He felt no doubt, harboured no suspicion, knewno fear; he gave scarce one thought to her past. He was content totake for gospel all she told him, and to seek no more. That he--heshould have gained the heart of this queen among women seemed sowonderful, so amazing, that nothing else seemed wonderful at all.
"You think she'll not fail?" he cried, presently, as he set down hisglass. "It's a week since I saw her, and--and you don't think she'llhave changed her mind, do you?"
"Not she!" Hawkesworth answered.
"She'll come, you are certain."
"As certain," Hawkesworth cried gaily, "as that Dr. Keith will beready at the chapel at twelve to the minute, dear lad. And, by theway, here's his health! Dr. Keith, and long may he live to bless thesingle and crown the virtuous! To give to him that hath not, and fromher that hath to take away! To be the plague of all sour guardians,lockers-up of maidens, and such as would cheat Cupid; and theguardian-angel of all Nugents, Husseys, and bold fellows! Here's tothe pride of Mayfair, the curse of Chancery, and the god-father ofmany a pretty couple--Dr. Keith!"
"Here's to him!" Tom cried, with ready enthusiasm. And then morequietly as he set down his glass, "There's one thing I'd like, to beperfectly happy, Hawkesworth, only one. I wish it were possible, but Isuppose it isn't."
"What is it, lad?"
"If Sophia, my sister, could be there. They'll be sisters, you see,and--and, of course, Sophia's a girl, but there are only the two ofus, for Madam Northey doesn't count. But I suppose it is not possibleshe should be told?"
"Quite impossible!" Hawkesworth answered with decision; and he stoopedto hide a smile. The humour of the situation suited him. "Quiteimpossible! Ten to one she'd peach! No, no, we must not initiate hertoo soon, my boy; though it is likely enough she'll have her ownbusiness with Dr. Keith one of these days!"
The boy stared at him. "My sister?" he said slowly, his face growingred. "With Dr. Keith? What business could she have with him?"
"With Dr. Keith?" Hawkesworth asked lightly. "Why not the same asyours, dear boy?"
"The same as mine?"
"Yes, to be sure. Why not? Eh, why not?"
"Why not? Because she's a Maitland!" the lad answered, and his eyesflashed. "Our women don't marry that way, I'd have you to know! Why,I'd--I'd rather see her buried."
"But you're going to marry that way yourself!" Hawkesworth reasoned.The boy's innocence surprised him a little and amused him more.
"I? But I'm a man," Tom answered with dignity. "I'm different.And--and Oriana," he continued, plunging on a sudden into dreadfulconfusion and redness of face, "is--is different of course,because--well, because if we are not married in this way, my brotherNorthey would interfere, and we could not be married at all. Oriana isan angel, and--and because she loves me, is willing to be married inthis way. That's all, you see."
"I see. But you would not
like your sister to be married on thequiet?"
Tom glared at him. "No," he said curtly. "And for the why, it is mybusiness."
"To be sure it is! Of course it is. And yet, Sir Tom," Hawkesworthcontinued, his tone provoking, "I would not mind wagering you ahundred it is the way she will be married, when her time comes."
"My sister?"
"Yes."
"Done with you!" the lad cried.
"Nay, I don't mind going farther," Hawkesworth continued. "I'll wageryou the same sum that she does it within the year."
"This year?"
"A year from to-day."
Tom jumped up in heat. "What the devil do you mean?" he cried. Then hesat down again. "But what matter!" he said, "I'll take you."
Hawkesworth as he pulled out his betting book turned his head aside tohide a smile. "I note it," he said. "'P. H. bets Sir Thomas Maitland ahundred that Miss Sophia Maitland is married at Dr. Keith's chapel;and another hundred that the marriage is within the year.'"
"Right!" Tom said, glowering at him. His boyish estimate of theimportance of his family, and of the sacredness of his womankind,sucked the flavour from the bet; ordinarily the young scapegrace loveda wager.
Hawkesworth put up his book again. "Good," he said. "You'll see thatthat will be two hundred in my pocket some day."
"Not it!" Tom answered, rudely. "My sister is not that sort! Andperhaps the sooner you know it, the better," he added, aggressively.
"Why, lad, what do you mean?"
"Just what I said!" Tom answered shortly. "It was English. When mysister is to be married, we shall make a marriage for her. She'snot--but the less said the better," he continued, breaking off with afrown.
Hawkesworth knew that it would be prudent to quit the subject, but hislove of teasing, or his sense of the humour of the situation, wouldnot let him be silent. "She's not for such as me, you mean?" he said,with a mocking laugh.
"You can put it that way if you choose!"
"And yet, I think--if I were to try?"
"What?"
"I say, if I were to try?"
Sir Tom scowled across the table. "Look here!" he said, striking itheavily with his hand, "I don't like this sort of talk. I don'tsuppose you wish to be offensive; and we'll end it, if you please."
Hawkesworth shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, by all means, if you feelthat way," he said. "Only it looks a little as if you feared for yourcharming sister. After all, women are women. Even Miss Sophia Maitlandis a woman, and no exception to the rule, I presume?"
"Oh, hang you!" the boy cried, in a fury; and again struck his hand onthe table. "Will you leave my sister's name alone? Cannot youunderstand--what a gentleman feels about it?"
"HE CANNOT!"]
"_He cannot!_"
The words came from behind Sir Tom, who forthwith sprang a yard fromthe settle, and stood gaping; while Hawkesworth, his glass going toshivers on the floor, clutched the table as he rose. Both stoodstaring, both stood amazed, and scarce believed their eyes, whenSophia, stepping from the shelter of the settle, stood before them.
"He cannot!" she repeated, with a gesture, a look, an accent thatshould have withered the man. "He cannot! For he does not know what agentleman feels about anything. He does not know what a gentleman is.Look at him! Look at him!" she continued, her face white with scorn;and she fixed the astonished Irishman with an outstretched finger thatcould scarce have confounded him more had it been a loaded pistol setto his head. "A gentleman!" she went on passionately. "That agentleman? Why, the air he breathes pollutes us! To be in one roomwith him disgraces us! That such an one should have tricked us willshame us all our lives!"
Hawkesworth tried to speak, tried to carry off the surprise; but afeeble smile was all he could compass. Even Irish wit, even nativeimpudence were unequal to this emergency. The blow was so sudden, sounexpected, he could not in a moment arrange his thoughts, or discernhis position. He saw that for some reason or other she had come to himbefore the time; but he could not on the instant remember how far hehad disclosed his hand before her, or what she had learned from himwhile she lay hidden.
Naturally Tom was the quicker to recover himself. His first thought onseeing his sister was that she had got wind of his plans, and was hereto prevent his marriage. And it was in this sense that he interpretedher opening words. But before she had ceased to speak, the passionwhich she threw into her denunciation of Hawkesworth, turned histhoughts into a new and a fiercer channel. With an oath, "Never mindhim!" he cried, and stepping forward gripped her, almost brutally, bythe wrist. "I'll talk with him afterwards. First, miss, what the devilare you doing here?"
"Ask him," she answered; and again pointed her finger at Hawkesworth."Or no, I will tell you, Tom. That man, the man who calls himself yourfriend, and called himself my lover, has plotted to ruin us. He hasschemed to get us into his net. To-morrow he would have married youto--to, I know not, whom. And when he had seen you married, and knewyou had forfeited a fortune to me, then--then I should have been a fitmatch for him! I! I! And in the evening he would have married me! Oh,shame, shame on us, Tom, that we should have let ourselves be sodeluded!"
"He would have married you!" Tom cried, dropping her hand in sheerastonishment.
"The same day!"
"Hawkesworth? This man here? He would have married you?"
"You may well say, he!" she answered, a wave of crimson flooding hercheeks and throat. "The thought kills me."
Tom looked from one to the other. "But I can't understand," he said."I didn't know--that he knew you, even."
"And I didn't know that he knew you!" she answered bitterly. "He is avillain, and that was his plan. We were not to know."
Tom turned to the Irishman; and the latter's deprecatory shrug wasvain. "What have you to say?" Tom cried in a voice almost terrible.
But Hawkesworth, who did not lack courage, was himself again, easy,alert, plausible. "Much," he said coolly. "Much, dear lad. The wholething is a mistake. I loved your sister"--he bowed gravely in herdirection, and stole a glance as he did so, to learn how she took it,and how far he still had a chance with her. "I loved her, I say, Istill love her, though she has shown that she puts as little faith inme, as she can ever have entertained affection for me. But I knew heras Miss Maitland, I did not know that she was your sister. Once Ithink she mentioned a brother; but no more, no name. For the rest, Ihad as little reason to expect to find her here as you had. That Iswear!"
The last words hit Tom uncomfortably; her presence in this man's roomwas a fact hard to swallow. The brother turned on the sister. "Is thistrue?" he hissed.
Sophia winced. "It is true," she faltered.
"Then what brought you here?" Tom cried, with brutal frankness.
The girl shivered; she never forgot the pain of that moment, neverforgot the man who had caused her that humiliation. "Ask him!" shepanted. "Or no, I will tell you, Tom. He swore that he loved me. Hemade me, poor silly fool that I was, believe him. He said that if Iwould elope with him to-morrow, he would marry me at Dr. Keith'schapel; and fearing they--my sister--would marry me against my willto--to another man, I consented. Then--they were going to send me awayin the morning, and it would have been too late. I came away thisafternoon to tell him, and--and----"
"There you have the explanation, Sir Thomas," Hawkesworth interposed,with an air of candid good nature. "And in all you'll say, I think,that there is nothing of which I need be ashamed. I loved your sister,she was good enough to fancy that she was not indifferent to me. Myintentions were honourable, but her friends were opposed to my suit. Ihad her consent to elope, and if she had not on a sudden discovered,as she apparently has discovered, that her heart is not mine, weshould have been married within a few days."
"To-morrow, sir, to-morrow!" Sophia cried. And would have confrontedhim with his letter; but it was in the folds of her dress, and shewould not let him see where she kept it.
"To-morrow, certainly, if it had been your pleasure," Hawkesworthanswered smoothly. "The sole, the only point
it concerns me to show,is, Sir Tom, that I did not know my Miss Maitland to be your sister. Igive you my word, Sir Tom, I did not!"
"Liar!" she cried, unable to contain herself.
He shrugged his shoulders, and smiled. "There is but one Sir ThomasMaitland," he said, "but there are many Maitlands. Miss Maitland mayhold what opinion she pleases, and express what view of my charactercommends itself to her, without fear that I shall call her naturalguardians to account. But I cannot allow a gentleman to doubt my word.I repeat, Sir Tom, that I did not know that this lady was yoursister."
The boy listened, scowling and thinking. He had no lack of courage,and was as ready to fly at a man's throat as not. But he was young; hewas summoned, suddenly and in conditions most perplexing, to protectthe family honour; it was no wonder that he hesitated. At this,however, "Then why the deuce were you so ready to bet," he blurtedout, "that she would be married at Keith's?"
Before Hawkesworth could frame the answer, "That is not all!" Sophiacried; and with a rapid movement she snatched from the table the bookthat had first opened her eyes. "Here, here," she cried, tapping itpassionately. "In his own handwriting is the plot! The plot against usboth! Tom, look; find it! You will find it under my name. And then hecannot deny it."
She held out the book to Tom; he went to take it. But Hawkesworth, whoknew the importance of the evidence, was too quick for them. With anoath he sprang forward, held Tom back with one hand, and with theother seized the volume, and tried to get possession of it. But Sophiaclung to it, screaming; and before he could wrest it from her hold,Tom, maddened by the insult and her cries, was at his breast like awild cat.
The fury of the assault took the Irishman by surprise. He staggeredagainst the wall, and alarmed by the girl's shrieks, let the book go.By that time, however, Sophia had had enough of the struggle. Thesight of the two locked in furious conflict horrified her, her grasprelaxed, she let the book fall; and as Hawkesworth, recovering fromhis surprise, gripped her brother's throat and by main force bent himbackwards--the lad never ceasing to rain blows on the taller man'sface and shoulders--she fled to the door, opened it, and screamed forhelp.
Fortunately it was already on the road. Mr. Wollenhope, crying, "Lord,what is it? What is it?" was halfway up the stairs when she appeared,and close on his heels followed his wife, with a scared face. Sophiabeckoned them to hasten, and wringing her hands, flew back. Theyfollowed.
They found Hawkesworth dragging the boy about, and striving savagelyto force him to the floor. As soon as he saw Wollenhope, he cried withfury, "Will some one take this mad dog off me? He has tried his bestto murder me. If I had not been the stronger, he would have done it!"
Wollenhope, panting with the haste he had made, seized Tom from behindand held him, while Hawkesworth disengaged himself. "You'll--you'llgive me satisfaction for this!" the lad cried, gasping, and almostblubbering with rage. His wig was gone, so was his cravat; the ruffleof his shirt was torn from top to bottom.
The other was busy readjusting his dress, and staunching the bloodthat flowed from a cut lip. "Satisfaction, you young booby?" heanswered, with savage contempt. "Send you back to school and whip you!Turn 'em out, Wollenhope! Turn them both out! That devil's cub sprangon me and tried to strangle me. It's lucky for you, sir, I don't sendyou to Hicks's Hall!"
"Oh, Lord, let's have none of that!" Wollenhope interposed hastily."Mine's a respectable house, and there's been noise enough already. Alittle more and I shall be indicted. March, young sir, if you please.And you too, miss."
Tom swelled with fresh rage. "Do you know who I am, fellow?" he cried."I'd have you to know----"
"I don't want to know!" Wollenhope rejoined, cutting him short. "Iwon't know! It's march--that's all I know. And quick, if you please,"he continued, trying to edge the lad out of the room.
"But, William," his wife protested, and timidly touched his arm, "it'spossible that they may not be in fault. I'm sure the young lady wasvery well spoken when she came."
"None of your advice!" her husband retorted.
"But, William----"
"None of your advice, I say! Do you hear? Do you understand? Thisgentleman is our lodger. Who the others are, I don't know, nor care.And I don't want to know, that's more."
"You'll smart for this!" Tom cried, getting in a word at last. He wasalmost bursting with chagrin and indignation. "I'd have you know, myfine fellow, I am Sir----"
"I don't want to know," Wollenhope retorted, stubbornly. "I don't carewho you are; and for smarting, perhaps I may. When you are sober, sir,we'll talk about it. In the meantime, this is my house, and you'll go,unless you want me to fetch the constable. And that mayn't be best forthe young lady, who seems a young lady. I don't suppose she'll like tobe taken to the Round house, nor run the risk of it. Take my advice,young sir, take my advice; and go quietly while you can."
Tom, half-choked with rage, was for retorting, but Sophia, who hadquite broken down and was weeping hysterically, clutched his arm. "Oh,come," she cried piteously, "please come!" And she tried to draw himtowards the door.
But the lad resisted. "You'll answer to me for this," he said,scowling at Hawkesworth, who remained in an attitude, eyeing the twowith a smile of disdain. "You know where to find me, and I shall be atyour service until to-morrow at noon."
"I'll find you when you are grown up," the Irishman answered, with amocking laugh. "Back to your books, boy, and be whipped for playingtruant!"
The taunt stung Tom to fresh fury. With a scream of rage he sprangforward, and, shaking off Wollenhope's grasp, tried to close with hisenemy. But Sophia hung on him bravely, imploring him to be calm; andWollenhope seized him again and held him back, while Mrs. Wollenhopesupplied, for assistance, a chorus of shrieks. Between the three hewas partly led and partly dragged to the door, and got outside. Fromthe landing he hurled a last threat at the smiling Hawkesworth, nowleft master of the field; and then, with a little rough persuasion, hewas induced to descend.
In the passage he had a fresh fit of stubbornness, and wished to statehis wrongs and who he was. But Sophia's heart was pitifully set onescaping from the house--to her a house of bitter shame andhumiliation--and the landlord's desire was to see the last of them;and in a moment the two were outside. Wollenhope lost not a moment,but slammed the door on them; they heard the chain put up, and, aninstant later, the man's retreating footsteps as he went back to hislodger.
Sophia: A Romance Page 11