The Light of Scarthey: A Romance

by Egerton Castle

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE TOWER OF LIVERPOOL: MASTER AND MAN

  A prison is a house of care, A place where none can thrive, A Touchstone True to try a friend, A Grave for man alive. Sometimes a place of right, Sometimes a place of wrong, Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves, And honest men among.

  _Old Inscription._

  It was soon after sunrise--at that time of year an hour notexorbitantly early--when Molly awoke from a tangle of fantastic dreamsin which the haunting figure of her waking thoughts, the hermit ofScarthey, appeared to her in varied shapes; as an awe-inspiring,saintly ascetic with long, white hair; as a young, beautiful,imprisoned prince; even as a ragged imbecile staring vacantly at alantern, somewhere in a dismal sea-cave.

  The last vision was uppermost in her mind when she opened her eyes;and the girl, under the impression of so disgusting a disillusion,remained for a while pondering and yawning, before making up her mindto exchange warmth and featherbed for her appointment without.

  But the shafts of light growing through the chinks in the shuttersever brighter and more full of dancing motes, decided her.

  "A beautiful morning, Madeleine," she said, leaning over and pullingone of the long fair strands upon her neighbour's pillow with sisterlyauthority. "Get up, lazy-bones, and come and have a walk with mebefore breakfast."

  The sleeping sister awoke, smiled with her usual exquisite serenity oftemper, and politely refused. Molly insisted, threatened, coaxed, butto no avail. Madeleine was luxuriously comfortable, and was not to bedisturbed either mentally or bodily; and Molly, aware of the resistingpower of will hidden under that soft exterior, at length petulantlydesisted; and wrapped up in furs, with hands plunged deep into therecesses of a gigantic muff, soon sallied forth herself alone into thepark.

  Half-way down the avenue she met blue-eyed Moggie with round faceshining out of the sharp, exhilarating atmosphere like a small sun.The damsel was overcome with blushes and rapture at her youngmistress's unexpected promptitude in carrying out her promise, and ranback to warn her sweetheart of that lady's approach.

  * * * * *

  As Molly drew near the keeper's lodge--a sort of Doric temple,quaintly standing in the middle of a hedge-enclosed garden, andhalf-buried under thickly-clustering, interlacing creepers--from theside of the enormous nest of evergreen foliage there emerged, in astate of high excitement strenuously subdued, a short, square-builtman (none other than Rene L'Apotre), whilst between the boughs of thegarden-hedge peeped forth the bashful, ruddy face of the lady of hisfancy, eager to watch the interview.

  Rene ran forward, then stopped a few paces away, hat in hand, scrapingand bowing in the throes of an overwhelming emotion that strove hardwith humility.

  "Ah, Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle!" he ejaculated between spells ofamazed staring, and seemed unable to bring forth another word.

  "And so you have known my mother, Rene," said Miss Molly (in hernative tongue) with a smile.

  At the sound of the voice and of the French words, Rene's face grewpale under its bronze, and the tears he had so strongly combated,glistened in his eyes.

  "If I had not heard last night," he said at length, "that these ladieshad come back--it was Moggie Mearson who told me, who was fostersister to you, or was it Mademoiselle your sister? and proud she is ofit--if I had not known that the young ladies were here again, when Isaw Mademoiselle I would have thought that my lady herself hadreturned to us (may the good God have her soul!). Ah, to think that Ishould ever see her again in the light of the sun!"

  He stopped, suffocated with the sob that his respect would not allowhim to utter.

  But Molly, who had had other objects in view when she rose from hercouch this cold, windy morning, than to present an objective to aserving-man's emotion, now thought the situation had lasted longenough for her enjoyment and determined to put an end to it.

  "Eh bien, Rene," she said gaily, "or should I call you MonsieurPotter? which, by the way, is a droll name for a Frenchman, I am veryglad to see that you are pleased to see me. If you would care to havesome talk with me you may attend me if you like. But I freeze standinghere," stamping her feet one after the other on the hard ground. "Imust absolutely walk; and you may put on your hat again, please; forit is very cold for you too," she added, snuggling into her muff andunder her fur tippet.

  The man obeyed after another of his quaint salutes, and as Mollystarted forward, followed her respectfully, a pace in rear.

  "I daresay you will not be sorry to have a little talk with acompatriot in your own tongue, all English as you may have grown,"said the young lady presently; "and as Moggie has told me that youwere in my mother's service, there is a whole volume of things which,I believe, you alone can relate to me. You shall tell me all that, oneday. But what seems to me the most curious, first of all, is yourpresence here. We ourselves are only at Pulwick by chance."

  "Mademoiselle," said Rene in an earnest voice, "if you knew the wholestory, you would soon understand that, since it was not to be, that Ishould remain the humble servitor of Monseigneur le Comte de Savenaye,Mademoiselle's father, or of Madame, who followed him to heaven,notwithstanding all our efforts to preserve her, it is but naturalthat I should attach myself (since he would allow it) to my presentmaster."

  "Mr. Landale?" asked Molly, affecting ignorance.

  "No, Mademoiselle," cried the Frenchman, hotly. "My master is SirAdrian. Had Mr. Landale remained the lord of this place, I should havebeen left to die in my prison--or at least have remained there untilthis spring, for it seems there is peace again, and the Tower ofLiverpool is empty now."

  "_Voyons, voyons, conte moi cela_, Rene," said Molly, turning herface, beautifully glowing from the caress of the keen air, eagerly toher companion. And he, nothing loth to let loose a naturally garruloustongue in such company, and on such a theme, started off upon a longstory illustrated by rapid gesticulation.

  "I will tell you," cried he, and plunged into explanation with moreenergy than coherence, "it was like this:

  "I had been already two years in that prison; we were some hundreds ofprisoners, and it was a cruel place. A cruel place, Mademoiselle,almost as bad as that where we were shut up, my master and I together,years before, at La Rochelle--and that I will tell you, if you wish,afterwards.

  "I had been taken by the marine conscription, when their Republicbecame the French Empire. And a sailor I was then (just, as I heardlater, as Sir Adrian also was at the time; but that I did not know,you understand), for they took all those that lived on the coast. NowI had only served with the ship six months, when she was taken by theEnglish, and, as I say, we were sent to the prison in Liverpool, wherewe found so many others, who had been already there for years. When Iheard it was Liverpool, I knew it was a place near Pulwick, and I atonce thought of Mr. Landale, not him, of course, they _now_ call Mr.Landale, but him who had followed my mistress, Madame your mother, tohelp to fight the Republicans in the old time. And I thought I wassaved: I knew he would get me out if it was possible to get any oneout. For, you see, I thought his honour was home again, after we hadbeen beaten, and there was no more to be done for my lady. We hadcontrived to find an English ship to take him home, and he had goneback, as I thought, Mademoiselle. Well, a prisoner becomes cunning,and besides, I had been in prison before; I managed to make up aletter, and as I knew already some English, I ended by persuading aman to carry it to Pulwick for me. It was a long way, and I had nomoney, but I made bold to assure him that Mr. Landale--oh, no! not_this_ one," Rene interrupted himself again with a gesture eloquent ofresentful scorn, "but my master; I assured the man that he wouldreceive recompence from him. You see, Mademoiselle, I knew his heartwas so good, that he would not allow your mother's servant to rot inthe tower.... But days afterwards the man came back. Oh, he was angry!terribly angry with me, and said he should pay me out--And so he did,but it is useless to tell you how. He had been to Pulwick, he said,and had seen Mr. Landale. Mr. Landale never kne
w anything of anyFrench prisoner, and refused to give any money to the messenger. Ah,Mademoiselle, it was very sad! I had not signed my letter for fear ofits getting into wrong hands, but I spoke of many things which I knewhe could not have forgotten, and now I thought that he would nottrouble his mind about such a wretch as Rene--triple brute that I wasto conceive such thoughts, I should have deserved to remain there forever!... I did remain, Mademoiselle, more than three years; many andmany died. As for me, I am hard, but I thought I should never neverwalk free again; nor would I, Mademoiselle, these seven years, but forhim."

  "He came, then?" said the girl with sympathetic enthusiasm. She waslistening with attention, carried away by the speaker's earnestness,and knew instinctively to whom the "him," and the "he" referred.

  "He came," said Rene with much emphasis. "Of course he came--themoment he knew." And after a moment of half-smiling meditation hepursued:

  "It was one May-day, and there was some sun; and there was a smell ofspring in the air which we felt even in that dirty place. Ah, how Iremember me of it all! I was sitting against the wall in the courtyardwith two others who were Bretons, like you and me, Mademoiselle,shifting with the sun now and then, for you must know a prisoner lovesthe sun above all; and there, we only had it a few hours in the day,even when it did shine. I was carving some stick-heads, andbread-plates in wood--the only thing I could do to put a little morethan bread, into our own platters," with a grin, "and whistling,whistling, for if you can't be gay, it is best to play at it.... Well,that day into our courtyard there was shown a tall man--and I knew himat once, though he was different enough in his fine coat, and hat andboots, from the time when I had last seen him, when he was like me, inrags and with a woollen cap on his head, and no stockings under hisshoes--I knew him at once! And when I saw him I stood still, with mymouth round, but not whistling more. My blood went phizz, phizz, allover my body, and suddenly something said in my head: 'Rene, he hascome to look for you.' He was searching for some one, for he wentround with the guardian looking into each man's face, and giving moneyto all who begged--and seeing that, they all got up, and surroundedhim, and he gave them each a piece. But I could not get up; it was asif some one had cut out my knees and my elbows. And that was how hesaw me the sooner. He noticed I remained there, looking at him like adog, saying nothing. When he saw me, he stood a moment quite quiet;and without pretending anything he came to me and looked downsmiling.--'But if I am not mistaken I know this man,' he said to theguardian, pretending to be astonished. 'Why, this is Rene L'Apotre?Who would have thought of seeing you here, Rene L'Apotre?' says he.And then he smiled again, as much as to say, 'You see I have come atlast, Rene.' And once more, as if to explain: 'I have only lately comeback to England,' in a gentle way, all full of meaning.... I don'tknow what took me, but I cried like an infant, in my cap. And theguardian and some of the others laughed, but when I looked up again,his eyes shone also. He looked so good, so kind, Mademoiselle, that itwas as if I understood in words all he meant, but thought better notto say at the time. Then he spoke to the guardian, who shook his headdoubtfully. And after saying, 'Have good courage, Rene L'Apotre,' andgiving me the rest of his money, he went away--but I knew I was notforgotten, and I was so happy that the black, black walls were no moreblack. And I sang, not for pretence this time, ah no! and I spent allmy money in buying a dinner for those at our end of the prison, and weeven had wine! You may be sure we drank to his happiness."

  Here the man, carried away by his feelings, seized his hat and wavedit in the air. Then, ashamed of his ebullition, halted and glanceddiffidently at the young lady. But Molly only smiled in encouragement.

  "Well, and then?" she asked.

  "Well, Mademoiselle," he resumed, "it was long before I saw him again;but I kept good courage, as I was told. One day, at last, the guardiancame to fetch me and took me to the governor's cabinet; and my masterwas there--I was told that my release had been obtained, though notwithout trouble, and that Sir Adrian Landale, of Pulwick Priory, hadgone warranty for me that I should not use my liberty to the prejudiceof His Majesty, the King of England, and that I was to be grateful toSir Adrian. I almost laughed at him, Mademoiselle. Oh! he took care toadvise me to be grateful!" And here Rene paused ironically, but therewas a quiver on his lips. "Ah, he little knew, Monsieur the Governor,that when my master had taken me to an inn, and the door was closedover the private room, he who had looked so grand and careless beforethe governor, took me by both hands and then, in his fine clothes,embraced me--me the dirty prisoner--just as he did when he left me inthe old days, and was as poor and ragged as I was! And let me weepthere on his breast, for I had to weep or my heart would have broken.But I wander, Mademoiselle, you only wanted to know how I came to bein his service still. That is how it was; as I tell you."

  Molly was moved by this artless account of fidelity and gratitude, andas she walked on in attentive silence, Rene went on:

  "It was then his honour made me know how, only by accident, and monthsafter his own return, he chanced to hear of the letter that some onehad sent to Mr. Landale from the Tower of Liverpool, and that Mr.Landale had said he knew nothing of any French prisoner and hadthought it great impudence indeed. And how he--my master--had suddenlythought (though my letter had been destroyed) that it might be fromme, the servant of my lady your mother, and his old companion in arms(for his honour will always call me so). He could not sleep, he toldme, till he had found out. He started for Liverpool that very night.And, having discovered that it was me, Mademoiselle, he never restedtill he had obtained my liberty."

  * * * * *

  Walking slowly in the winter sunshine, the one talking volubly, theother intently listening, the odd pair had reached a rising knoll inthe park where, under the shelter of a cluster of firs, stood a row ofcarved stone seats that had once been sedillas in the dismantledPriory Church.

  From this secluded spot could be obtained the most superb view of thewhole country-side. At the end of the green, gently-sloping stretch ofpasture-land, which extended, broken only by irregular clusters oftrees, down to the low cliffs forming the boundary of the strand, laythe wide expanse of brown sand, with its streamlets and salt poolsscintillating under the morning sun.

  Further in the western horizon, a crescent of deep blue sea, sharplydefined under a lighter blue sky and fringed landwards with astraggling border of foam, advanced slowly to the daily conquest ofthe golden bay. In the midst of that frame the eye was irresistiblydrawn, as to the chief object in the picture, to the distant rock ofScarthey--a green patch, with the jagged red outline of the ruinsclear cut against the sky.

  Since this point of view in the park had been made known to her, onthe first day when she was piloted through the grounds, Molly had morethan once found her way to the sedillas, yielding to the fascinationof the mysterious island, and in order to indulge in the fanciessuggested by its ever-changing aspect.

  At the fall of day the red glow of the sinking sun would glint throughthe dismantled windows; and against the flaming sky the ruins wouldstand out black and grim, suggesting nought but abandonment anddesolation until suddenly, as the gloom gathered upon the bay, thelight of the lamp springing to the beacon tower, would reverse theimpression and bring to mind a picture of faithful and patientwatching.

  When the sun was still in the ascendant, the island would be green andfresh to the gaze, evoking no dismal impression; and as the raysglanced back from the two or three glazed windows, and from the roofedbeacon-tower, the little estate wore a look of solid security andprivacy in spite of its crumbling walls, which was almost astantalising to her romantic curiosity.

  It was with ulterior motives, therefore, that she had again wended herway to the knoll this sunny, breezy morning. She now sat down and lether eyes wander over the wide panorama, whilst Rene stood at a humbledistance, looking with eyes of delight from her to the distant abodeof his master.

  "And now you live with Sir Adrian, in that little isle yonder," saidshe, at length.
"How came it that you never sought to go back to yourcountry?"

  "There was the war then, Mademoiselle, and it was difficult toreturn."

  "But there has been peace these six months," insisted Molly.

  "Yes, Mademoiselle, though I only learned it yesterday. But then, bah!What is that? His honour needs me. I have stopped with him sevenyears, and my faith, I shall stop with him for ever."

  There was a long silence.

  "Does any one know," asked Molly, at length, with a vague air ofaddressing the trees, mindful, as she spoke, of the manner in whichMr. Landale had practically dismissed her and her sister at a certainpoint of his version of his brother's history, "_why_ Sir Adrian hasshut himself up in that place instead of living at the Hall all thistime?"

  A certain dignity seemed to come over the servant's squat figure. Hehesitated for a moment, and then said very simply, his honest eyesfixed upon the girl's face: "I am only his humble servant,Mademoiselle, and it is enough for me that it is his pleasure to livealone."

  "You are indeed faithful," said Molly, with a little generous flush ofshame at this peasant's delicacy compared to her own curiosity. And,after another pause, she added, pensively: "But tell me, does SirAdrian never leave his solitude? I confess I should like to meet onewho had known my mother, who could talk of her to me."

  Rene looked at the young girl with a wistful countenance, as thoughthe question had embarked him on a new train of thought. But heanswered evasively: "His honour comes rarely to Pulwick--rarely."

  Molly, with a little movement of pique, rose abruptly from her seat.But quickly changing her mood again she turned round as she was aboutto depart, and smiling: "Thank you, Rene," she said, and held out herdainty hand, which he, blushing, engulfed in his great paw, "I amgoing in, I am dreadfully hungry. We shall be here two months or more,and I shall want to see you again ... if you come back to Pulwick."

  She walked quickly away towards the house. Rene followed theretreating figure with a meditative look, so long as he could keep herin sight, then turned his gaze to the island and there stood lost in adeep muse, regardless of the fact that his sweetheart, Moggie, wasawaiting a parting interview at the lodge, and that the tide thatwould wait for no man was swelling under his boat upon the beach.

  * * * * *

  A sudden resolution was formed in Molly's mind as the immediate resultof this conversation, and she framed her behaviour that morning solelywith a view to its furtherance.

  Breakfast was over when, glowing from her morning walk, she enteredthe dining-room; but, regardless of Mr. Landale's pointedly elaboratecourtesy in insisting upon a fresh repast being brought to her, hissarcastically overacted solicitude, intended to point out what a dealof avoidable trouble she gave to the household, Molly remainedperfectly gracious, and ate the good things, plaintively set beforeher by Miss Landale, with the most perfect appetite and good humour.

  She expatiated in terms of enthusiasm on the beauty of the estate andthe delight of her morning exploration, and concluded thiscondescending account of her doings (in which the meeting with Renedid not figure) with a request that Mr. Landale should put horses atthe disposal of herself and her sister for a riding excursion thatvery afternoon. And with determined energy she carried the point,declaring, despite his prognostications of coming bad weather, thatthe sunshine would last the day.

  In this wise was brought about the eventful ride which cost the lifeof Lucifer, and introduced such heart-stirring phantasmagories intothe even tenor of Sir Adrian Landale's seclusion.

  * * * * *

  That evening the news rapidly spread throughout Pulwick that the cruelsands of the bay had secured yet another victim.

  In an almost fainting condition, speechless with horror, and hardlyable yet to realise to the full her own anguish, Madeleine wasconducted by the terrified groom, through the howling wind anddrenching rain, back to the Priory.

  And there, between the fearful outcries of Miss Landale, and the deepfrowning gravity of her brother, the man stammered out his tale.--Howthe young lady when the rain first began, had insisted,notwithstanding his remonstrances, upon taking the causeway to theisland, and how it was actually by force that he prevented the otherlady from following so soon as she understood the danger into whichher sister was running.

  There was no use, he had thought (explained the man, halfapologetically), for two more to throw away their lives, just for nogood, that way. And so they had sat on their horses and watched interror, as well as they could through the torrents of rain. They hadseen in the distance Lucifer break from the young lady's control, andswerve from the advancing sea. And then had come the great gust thatblew the rain and the sand in their faces and set their horsesdancing; and, when they could see again, all traces of horse and riderhad disappeared, and there lay nothing before them but the advancingtide, though the island and its tower were still just visible throughthe storm.

  No amount of cross-examination could elicit any further information.The girl's impulse seemed to have been quite sudden, and she had onlylaughed back at the groom over her shoulder upon his earnest shout ofwarning, though she had probably expected them to follow her. And asthere could be no doubt about the calamity which had ensued, and nopossible rescue even of the body, he had returned home at once tobring the disastrous news.

  Madeleine had been carried completely unconscious to her bed, butpresently Miss Sophia was summoned to her side as the girl showedsigns of returning animation, and Rupert was left alone.

  He fell to pacing the room, lost in a labyrinth of complicated andfar-reaching reflections.

  Beyond doubt he was shocked and distressed by the sudden and horribledisaster; and yet as an undercurrent to these first natural thoughts,there ran presently a distinct notion that he would have felt thegrievousness of it more keenly had Madeleine perished in that cruelmanner and her sister survived to bring the tale home.

  The antagonism which his cousin, in all the insolence of her youngbeauty and vigorous self-esteem, had shown for him had been mutual. Hehad instinctively felt that she was an enemy, and more than that--adanger to him. This danger was now removed from his path, and by nointervention or even desire of his own.

  The calamity which had struck the remaining sister into suchprostration would make her rich indeed; by anticipation one of thegreat heiresses in England.

  "Sorrow," thought Mr. Landale, and his lip curled disdainfully, "agirl's sorrow, at least, is a passing thing. Wealth is an everlastingbenefit."

  Madeleine was a desirable woman upon all counts, even pecuniaryconsiderations apart, or would be to one who had a heart to give--andeven if the heart was dead...?

  Altogether the sum of his meditations was assuming a not unpleasingaspect; and the undercurrent in time assumed almost the nature ofself-congratulation. Even the ordeal which was yet to come when hewould have to face Miss O'Donoghue and render an account of his shorttrust, could not weigh the balance down on the wrong side.

  And yet a terrible ordeal it would be; women are so unreasonable, andAunt Rose so much more so even than the average woman. Still it had tobe done; the sooner the better; if possible while the storm lasted andwhile roaring waters kept all ill news upon land and the interlopingheir on his island.

  And thus that very evening, whilst Madeleine sobbed on her pillow andMolly was snugly enjoying the warm hospitality of Scarthey, a mountedmessenger departed from the Priory to overtake Miss O'Donoghue on theroad to Bath and acquaint her with the terrible fatality that hadbefallen her darling and favourite.