CHAPTER XIX
A JUNIOR'S OPINION
A rarely failing characteristic of very warm-hearted and stronglyimpulsive people is their inability of graduating their likes anddislikes; a state of mind which cannot fail to lead to frequentalterations of temper.
On more than one occasion, since the domineering old lady had startedupon her peregrinations, had her favour for the two brothers undergonereversal; but the ground Rupert gained by Adrian's offences was neverof safe tenure. At the present hour, under the elation of hervictorious sally upon the hermit's pessimistic entrenchments--the onlything in him of which she disapproved--he at once resumed the warmplace she liked to keep for him in her heart. And as a consequence"Master Rupert," as she contemptuously called the "locum tenensSquire," who, in the genealogical order of things, should have been aperson of small importance, fell promptly into his original state ofdisgrace.
During the drive from the village (where she had ordered the carriageto await her return) to the gates of Pulwick, Miss O'Donoghueentertained her companion with an indignant account of his brother'singratitude, of his hypocritical insinuating method of disparagementof Sir Adrian himself, winding up each indictment with a shrewd, "buthe could not impose upon _me_," which, indeed, she firmly believed.
Her object was, of course, to strengthen the baronet in his resolve toreturn to the headship of his family--little guessing what a strongincentive to seclusion these very tales of a state of things hesuspected but too well would have proved, had it not been for the newunforeseen motive that the morning's revelation had brought.
"Does Molly know of your visit to me?" he asked, as the carriagehalted before the gate, and the enormous, red-headed Cumbriangatekeeper with his rosy Moggie, proudly swung it open to stand oneither side, the one bowing with jubilant greeting and the othercurtseying with bashful smiles at the real master. "Does she expect myvisit?" relapsing into gravity after returning the salutation inkindliness.
"I have told no one of my purpose this day. Rupert walked off to thestables immediately after breakfast--going a-hunting he said he was,and offered to bear the girls to the meet. And then, feeling lonelywithout his company," added Tanty, with a wink, "I ordered thecarriage and thought I would go and have a peep at the place wherepoor Molly was drowned, just for a little diversion. Whether thelittle rogue expects you or not, after your note of the other day, Iam sure I could not take upon myself to say. She sits watching thatcrazy old tower of yours by day and your light by night. Well, well, Imust not tell tales out of school, you may find out for yourself. Butmind you, Adrian," she impressed on him, sagely, "it is not I whobring you back: you return of your own accord. The child would murderme, if she knew--with that proud heart of hers."
"My dear Tanty, trust me. This incomprehensible discovery of yours,which I cannot yet believe in, really is, so far as my discretion isconcerned, as if I had never heard of it. Heavens! I have been ablundering fool, but I could not insult her with a hint of it for theworld. I have come to see Rupert to-day, as usual, of course--and, asyou say ... I shall see for myself. You have opened my eyes."
Miss O'Donoghue looked at her nephew with admiration. "_Voyez unpeu_," she said, "_comme l'amour vous degourdit_ even a doleful SirAdrian! Faith, here we are. This has been a pleasant ride, but my oldbones are so tired, and you and yours have set them jogging so much oflate, that I think I'll never want to stir a foot again once I getback to Bunratty ... except indeed to come and be godmother to theheir."
Having lent a dutiful arm up the stairs to his now beaming relative,Sir Adrian came down pensively and entered the library.
There, booted and spurred, but quietly installed at a writing table,sat Mr. Landale, who rose in his nonchalant manner and with cold looksmet his brother.
There was no greeting between them, but simply thus:
"I understood from Aunt Rose you were out hunting."
"Such was my intention, but when I found out that she had gone to seeyou--don't look so astonished, Adrian--a man must know what is goingon in his household--I suspected you would escort her back; so Idesisted and waited for you. It is an unexpected pleasure to see you,for I thought we had sufficiently discussed all business, recently.But doubtless you will profit of the opportunity to go into a fewmatters which want your attention. Do you mean to remain?"
Speaking these words in a detached manner, Mr. Landale kept a keenlyobservant look upon his brother's countenance. In a most unwonted waythe tone and the look irritated Sir Adrian.
"I came back, Rupert, because there were some things I wished to seefor myself here," he answered frigidly. And going to the bell, rang itvigorously.
On the servant's appearance, without reference to his brother, hehimself, and very shortly, gave orders:
"I shall dine here to-day. Have the tapestry-room made ready for me."
Then turning to Rupert, whose face betrayed some of the astonishmentaroused by this most unusual assumption of authority, and resuming asit were the thread of his speech, he went on:
"No, Rupert, I have no desire to talk business with you. It is a pityyou should have given up your day. Is it yet too late?"
"Upon my word, Adrian," said Mr. Landale, clenching his hand nervouslyround his fine cambric handkerchief, "there must be something ofimportance in the wind to have altered your bearing towards me to thisextent. I have no wish to interfere. I came back and gave up goodcompany for the reason I have stated. I will now only point out that,with your sudden whims, you render my position excessively false in ahouse where, at your own wish, I am ostensibly established as master."
And without waiting for another word, the younger brother, havingshot the arrow which hitherto never failed to reach the bull's-eye ofthe situation, left the room with much dignity.
Once more alone, Sir Adrian, standing motionless in the great room,darkened yet more in the winter light by the heavy festoons ofcurtains that hung over the numerous empty bookshelves, the souls ofwhich had migrated to the peel to keep the master company, cogitatedupon this first unpleasant step in his new departure, and wonderedwithin himself why he had felt so extraordinarily moved by angerto-day at the cold inquisitiveness of his brother. No doubt the senseof being watched thus, held away at arm's-length as it were, was causesufficient. And yet that was not it; ingratitude alone, even toenmity, in return for benefits forgot could not rouse this bitterness.But had it not been for Tanty's interference he would be now exiledfrom his home until the departure of Cecile's child, just as, but forchance, he would have been kept in actual ignorance of her arrival. Itwas his brother's doing that he had blindly withdrawn himself when hispresence would have caused happiness to her. Yes, that was it. Ruperthad a scheme. That was what dwelt in his eyes,--a scheme which wouldbring, indeed did bring, unhappiness to that dear guest.... No wonder,now, that the unconscious realisation of it awoke all the man's bloodin him.
"No, Rupert," Sir Adrian found himself saying aloud, "I let you reignat Pulwick so long as you crossed not one jot of such pleasure andhappiness that might belong to Cecile's child. But here our willsclash; and now, since there cannot be two masters in a house as yousay, _I_ am the master here."
* * * * *
As Sir Adrian's mind was seething in this unusual mood, MissO'Donoghue, entering her nieces' room, found Molly perched, in ridingdress, on the window-sill, looking forth upon the outer world withdissatisfied countenance.
Mr. Landale had sent word at the last moment that, to his intenseregret, he could not escort the ladies to the meet, some importantbusiness having retained him at Pulwick.
So much did Miss Molly pettishly explain in answer to theaffectionate inquiry concerning the cloud on her brow, slashing herwhip the while and pouting, and generally out of harmony with thespecial radiance of the old lady's eye and the more than usualexpansiveness of the embrace which was bestowed upon her.
"Tut, tut, tut, now," observed the artful person in tones of deepcommiseration. "Ah well, Rupert's a poor creature which
ever side heturns up. Will you go now, my child, and fetch me the letters I lefton the drawing-room table? Isn't it like me to spend half the morningwriting them and leave them down there after all!"
Molly rose unwillingly, threw her whip on the bed, her hat on thefloor; and mistily concerned over Tanty's air of irrepressible andpleasurable excitement, walked out of the room, bestowing as shepassed her long pier glass a moody glance at her own glowering beauty.
"What's the use of _you_?" she muttered to herself, "Anybody can fetchand carry for old aunts and look out of windows on leafless trees!"
The way to the drawing-room was through the library. As Molly,immersed in her reflections, passed along this room, she stopped witha violent start on perceiving the figure of Sir Adrian, a tallsilhouette against the cold light of the window. As she came upon him,her face was fully illumined, and there was a glorious tale-telling inthe widening of her eyes and the warm flush that mounted to her cheekthat on the instant scattered in the man's mind all wondering doubts.A rush of tenderness filled him at one sweep, head and heart, to thecore.
"Molly!" he cried, panting; and then with halting voice as sheadvanced a pace and stood with mouth parted and brilliant expectanteyes: "You took away all light and warmth with you when you left mylonely dwelling. I tried to take up my life there, but----"
"But you have come back--for me?" And drawn by his extended hands sheadvanced, her burning gaze fixed upon his.
"I dared not think of seeing you again," he murmured, clasping herhands; "yet my return ... pleases you?"
"Yes."
Thus was crowned this strange wooing, was clenched a life's union,based upon either side on fascinating unrealities.
She was drawn into his arms; and against his heart she lay, shakingwith little shivers of delight, looking into the noble face bent solovingly over hers, her mind floating between unconscious exultationand languorous joy.
For a long while without a word he held her thus on his strong arm,gazing with a rending conflict of rapture and anguish on the beautifulimage of his life's love, until his eyes were dimmed with risingtears. Then he slowly stooped over the up-turned face, and as shedropped her lids with a faint smile, kissed her lips.
There came a warning rattle at the door handle, and Molly, disengagingherself softly from her betrothed's embrace, but still retaining hisarm, turned to witness the entrance of Miss O'Donoghue and Mr.Landale.
On the former's face, under a feigned expression of surprise, nowexpanded itself in effulgence the plenitude of that satisfaction whichhad been dawning there ever since her return from the island.
Rupert held himself well in hand. He halted, it is true, for aninstant at the first sight of Sir Adrian and Molly, and put hishandkerchief furtively to his forehead to wipe the sudden cold sweatwhich broke out upon it. But the hesitation was so momentary as topass unperceived; and if his countenance, as he advanced again, borean expression of disapproval, it was at once dignified and restrained.
"So you are there, Molly," exclaimed the old lady with inimitableairiness. "Just imagine, my dear, I had those letters in my pocket allthe while, after all. You did not find them, did you?"
But Adrian, still retaining the little hand on his arm, came forwardslowly and broke through the incipient flow.
"Aunt Rose," said he in a voice still veiled by emotion, "I know yourkind heart will rejoice with me, although you may not be so surprised,as no doubt Rupert will be, at the news we have for you, Molly and I."
"You are right, Adrian," interrupted Rupert gravely, "to any who knowyour life and _your past_ as I do, the news you seem to have for usmust seem strange indeed. So strange that you will excuse me if Iwithhold congratulations. For, if I mistake not," he added, with adelicately shaded change of tone to sympathetic courtesy, and slightlyturning his handsome face towards Molly, "I assume that my faircousin de Savenaye has even but now promised to be my sister, LadyLandale."
Sir Adrian who, softened by the emotion of this wonderful hour, hadmade a movement to grasp his brother's hand, but had checked himselfwith a passionate movement of anger, instantly restrained, as theovert impertinence of the first words fell on his ears, here lookedwith a shadowing anxiety at the girl's face.
But Molly, who could never withhold the lash of her tongue when Rupertgave the slightest opening, immediately acknowledged her enemy'scourtly bow with sauciness.
"What! No congratulations from the model brother? Not even a word ofthanks to Molly de Savenaye for bringing the truant to his home atlast? But you malign yourself, my dear Rupert. I believe 'tis butexcess of joy that ties your tongue."
With gleaming smile Mr. Landale would have opposed this direct thrustby some parry of polished insult; but he met his elder's commandingglance, remembered his parting words on two previous occasions, andwisely abstained, contenting himself with another slight bow and acontemptuous shrug of the shoulders.
At the same time Miss O'Donoghue, with an odd mixture of farcicallypretended astonishment and genuine triumph, fell on the girl's neck.
"It is possible, soul of my heart, my sweet child--I can't believeit--though I vow I knew it all along! So I am to see my two favouritesmade one by holy matrimony!" punctuating her exclamation with kisseson the fair young face, and wildly seeking in space with her dried-upold fingers to meet Adrian's hand. "I, the one barren stock of theO'Donoghues, shall see my sister's children re-united. Ah, Adrian,what a beautiful coat this will make for you to hand to your children!O'Donoghue, Landale, Kermelegan, Savenaye--eighteen quarters with thisheiress alone, Adrian child, for the descendants of Landale ofPulwick!" And Miss O'Donoghue, overcome by this culminating vision ofhappiness and perfection, fairly burst into tears.
In the midst of this scene, Mr. Landale, after listening mockingly fora few instants, retired with ostentatious discretion.
Later in the day, as Madeleine bent her pretty ears, dutifully yetwith wandering attention, to Molly's gay prognostications concerningPulwick under her sway; whilst the servants in the hall, pantry andkitchen discussed the great news which, by some incomprehensibleagency, spread with torrent-like swiftness through the whole estate;while Miss O'Donoghue was feverishly busy with the correspondencewhich was to disseminate far and wide the world's knowledge of thehappy betrothal, Sir Adrian met his brother walking meditatively alongthe winding path of the garden, flicking with the loop of his crop theborder of evergreens as he went. From their room, Molly and Madeleine,ensconced in the deep window-seat, could see the meeting.
"How I should like to hear," said Molly. "I know this supple wretchwill be full of Adrian's folly in marrying me--first, because, fromthe Rupertian point of view, it is a disastrous thing that his eldershould marry at all; and secondly, because Molly, mistress at PulwickPriory, means a very queer position indeed for Mr. Rupert Landale. HowI wish my spirit could fly into Adrian's head just for a moment!Adrian is too indulgent. It requires a Molly to deal with suchimpertinence."
"Indeed you are unjust with our cousin," said Madeleine, gently. "Whythis hatred? I cannot understand."
"No, of course not, Madeleine. Rupert is charming--with you. I am notblind. But take care he does not find out _your_ secret, miss. Oh, Idon't ask you any more about it. But if he ever does--_gare, machere_."
But at the present juncture, Molly's estimate of Sir Adrian's mood wasmistaken. His love of peace, which amounted to a well-known weaknesswhere he alone was concerned, weighed not a feather in the balancewhen such an interest as that now engaged was at stake.
As a matter of fact, Rupert Landale was to be taken by surprise again,that day, and again not pleasantly. On noticing his brother'sapproach, he stopped his angry flickings, and slowly moved to meethim. At first they walked side by side in silence. Presently SirAdrian began:
"Rupert," he said gravely, "after our first interview to-day, it wasmy intention to have begged your pardon for a certain roughness in mymanner which I should have controlled and which you resented. I wouldhave done so, had you allowed me, at that moment when I
announced myforthcoming marriage and my heart was full of good-will to all,especially to you. Now, on the contrary, to re-establish at least thatoutward harmony without which life in common would be impossible, Iexpect from you some expression of regret for your behaviour."
The first part of his brother's say was so well in accordance with hismore habitual mood, that Mr. Landale had already sketched his equallyhabitual deprecating smile; but the conclusion changed the entirestandpoint of their relations.
"An expression of regret--from _me_?" cried he, exaggerating hisastonishment almost to mockery.
"From any one but my brother," said Adrian, with a slight butperceptible hardening in his tone, "I should say an apology for animpertinence."
Mr. Landale, now genuinely taken aback, turned a little pale andhalted abruptly.
"Adrian, Adrian!" he retorted, quickly. "This is one of your madmoments. I do not understand."
"No, brother, I am not mad, and never have been, dearly as you wouldwish me to be so in reality--since Death would have none of me. Butthough you know this yourself but too well, you have never understoodme really. Now listen--once for all. Try and see our positions as theyare: perhaps then matters will go more pleasantly in the future foryou as well as for me."
Mr. Landale looked keenly at the speaker's face for a second, and thenwithout a word resumed his walk, while Sir Adrian by his side pursuedwith quiet emphasis:
"When I returned, from the other world so to speak, at least from yourpoint of view (one which I fully understood), I found that this veryreturn was nothing short of a calamity for all that remained of mykin. I had it in my power to reduce that misfortune to a great extent.You loved the position--that worldly estimation, that fortune, allthose circumstances which, with perfect moral right, you had hithertoenjoyed. They presented little attraction to me. Moreover, there weremany reasons, which I am quite aware you know, that made this veryhouse of mine a dismal dwelling for me. You see I have no wish togive too generous a colour to my motives, too self-denying a characterto the benefits I conferred upon you. But, as far as you areconcerned, they were benefits. For them I received no gratitude; butas I did not expect gratitude it matters little. I might, however,have expected at least that you should be neutral, not directlyhostile to me----Pray let me finish" (in anticipation of a risinginterruption from his companion), "I shall soon have done, and youwill see that I am not merely recriminating. Hostile you have been,and are now. So long as the position you assumed towards me only boreon our own relations, I acquiesced: you had so much more to lose thanI could gain by resenting your hidden antagonism. I held you, so tospeak, in the hollow of my hand; I could afford to pass over it all.Moreover, I had chosen my own path, which was nothing if not peaceful.I say, you always were hostile to me; you have been so, more than eversince the arrival of Cecile de Savenaye's children. You were, however,grievously mistaken if you thought--I verily believe you did--that Idid not realise the true motives that prompted you to keep me awayfrom them.--I loved them as their mother's children; I love Molly witha sort of love I myself do not understand, but deep enough for all itsstrangeness. Yet I submitted to your reasoning, to your plausiblerepresentations of the disastrous effects of my presence. I went backto my solitude because it never entered my mind that it could be in mypower to help their happiness; you indeed had actually persuaded me ofthe contrary, as you know, and I myself thought it better to break theunfortunate spell that was cast on me. Unfortunate I thought it, butit has proved far otherwise."
They had reached the end of the alley, and as they turned back, facingeach other for a moment, Sir Adrian noticed the evil smile playingupon his brothers lips.
"It has proved otherwise," he repeated. "How I came to change myviews, I daresay you have guessed, for you have, of late, kept a goodwatch on your mad brother, Rupert. At any rate you know what has cometo pass. Now I desire you to understand this clearly--interferencewith me as matters stand means interference with Molly: and as such Imust, and shall, resent it."
"Well, Adrian, and what have I done _now_?" was Mr. Landale's quietreply. He turned a gravely attentive, innocently injured countenanceto the paling light.
"When I said you did not understand me," returned Sir Adrian withundiminished firmness; "when I said you owed me some expression ofregret, it was to warn you never again to assume the tone ofinsinuation and sarcasm to me, which you permitted yourself to-day inthe presence of Molly. You could not restrain this long habit ofcensuring, of unwarrantable and impertinent criticism, of your elder,and when you referred to my past, Molly could not but be offended bythe mockery of your tones. Moreover, you took upon yourself, if I haveheard aright, to disapprove openly of our marriage. Upon what groundthat would bear announcing I know not, but let this be enough: try andrealise that our respective positions are totally changed by thisunforeseen event, and that, as Molly is now to be mistress at Pulwick,I must of course revoke my tacit abdication. Nevertheless, if youthink you can put up with the new state of things, there need belittle alteration in your present mode of life, my dear Rupert; if youwill only make a generous effort to alter your line of conduct."
And here, Sir Adrian, succumbing for a moment to the fault, so commonto kindly minds, of discounting the virtue of occasional firmness by asudden return to geniality, offered his hand in token of peace.
Mr. Landale took it; his grasp, however, was limp and cold.
"I am quite ready to express regret," he said in a toneless voice,"since that would seem to be gratification to you, and moreover seemsto be the tacit condition on which you will refrain from turning meout. I ought indeed to have abstained from referring, however vaguely,to past events, for the plain reason that anything I could say wouldalready have come too late to prevent the grievous deed you have nowpledged yourself to commit."
"Rupert--!" exclaimed Sir Adrian stepping back a pace, too amazed, atthe instant, for indignation.
"Now, in your turn, hear me, Adrian," continued Mr. Landale with hisblackest look. "I have listened to your summing up of our respectivecases with perfect patience, notwithstanding a certain assumption ofsuperiority which--allow me to insist on this--is somewhat ridiculousfrom you to me. You complain of my misunderstanding you. Briefly, thisis absurd. As a matter of fact I understand you better than you doyourself. On the other hand it is you that do not understand me. Ihave no wish to paraphrase your little homily of two minutes ago, butthe heads of my refutation are inevitably suggested by the points ofyour indictment. To use your own manner of speech, my dear Adrian, Ihave no wish to assume injured disinterestedness, when speaking of mydoings with regard to you and your belongings and especially to thisold place of yours, of our family. You have only to look and see foryourself...."
Mr. Landale made a wide comprehensive gesture which seemed to embracethe whole of the noble estate, the admirably kept mansion with wallsnow flushed in the light of the sinking sun, the orderly maintenanceof the vast grounds, the prosperousness of its dependencies--all infact that the brothers could see with the eyes of the body from wherethey stood, and all that they could see with the eyes of the mindalone: "Go and verify whether I fulfilled my duty with respect to thetrust which was yours, but which you have allowed to devolve upon myshoulders, and ask yourself whether you would have fulfilled itbetter--if as well. I claim no more than this recognition; for, as youpointed out, the position carried its advantages, if it entailedarduous responsibility too. It was my hope that heirs of my body wouldlive to perpetuate this pride--this work of mine. It was not to be.Now that you step in again and that possibly your flesh will reap thebenefits I have laboured to produce, ask yourself, Adrian, whetheryou, who shirked your own natural duties, would have buckled to thetask, under _my_ circumstances--distrusted by your brother, dislikedand secretly despised by all your dependants, who reserved all theirlove and admiration for the 'real master' (oh, I know the cantphrase), although he chose to abandon his position and yield himselfto the stream of his own inertness, the real master who in the end canfind no bette
r description for these years of faithful service than'hostility' and 'ingratitude.'"
Sir Adrian halted a pace, a little moved by the speciousness of thepleading. The incidental reference to that one grief of his brother'slife was of a kind which could never fail to arouse generous sympathyin his heart. But Mr. Landale had not come to the critical point ofhis say, and he did not choose to allow the chapter of emotion tobegin just yet.
"But," he continued, pursuing his restless walk, "again to use yourown phraseology, I am not merely recriminating. I, too, wish you tounderstand me. It would be useless to discuss now, what you elect tocall my hostility in past days. I had to keep up the position demandedby our ancient name; to keep it up amid a society, against whose everytenet almost--every prejudice, you may call them--you chose to runcounter. My antagonism to your mode of acting and thinking wasprecisely measured by your own against the world in which theLandales, as a family, hold a stake. Let that, therefore, bedismissed; and let us come at once to the special hostility youcomplain of in me, since the troublesome arrival of Aunt Rose and herwards. As the very thing which I was most anxious to prevent, ifpossible, has, after all, come to pass, the present argument may seemuseless; but you have courted it yourself."
"Most anxious to prevent--if possible...!" repeated Sir Adrian,slowly. "This, from a younger brother, is almost cynical, Rupert!"
"Cynical!" retorted Mr. Landale, with a furious laugh. "Why, you havegiven sound to the very word I would, in anybody else's case, haveapplied to a behaviour such as yours. Is it possible, Adrian," saidRupert, turning to look his brother in the eyes with a look ofprofound malice, "that it has not occurred to you yet, that _cynical_will be the verdict the world will pass on the question of yourmarriage with that young girl?"
Sir Adrian flushed darkly, and remained silent for a pace or two;then, with a puzzled look:
"I fail to understand you," he said simply. "I am no longer young, ofcourse; yet, in years, I am not preposterously old. As for the otherpoints--name and fortune----"
But Rupert interrupted him with a sharp exclamation, which betrayedthe utmost nervous exasperation.
"Pshaw! If I did not know you so well, I would say you were playing atcandour. This--this unconventionality of yours would have led youinto curious pitfalls, Adrian, had you been obliged to live in theworld. My 'hostility' has saved you from some already, I know--more isthe pity it could not save you from this--for it passes all boundsthat you should meditate such an unnatural act, upon my soul, in themost natural manner in the world. One must be an Adrian Landale, andlive on a tower for the best part of one's life, to reach such a pitchof--unconventionality, let us call it."
"For God's sake," exclaimed Sir Adrian, suddenly losing patience,"what are you driving at, man? In what way can my marriage with ayoung lady, who, inconceivable as it may be, has found something tolove in me; in what way, I say, can it be accounted cynical? I am notsubtle enough to perceive it."
"To any one but you," sneered the other, coming to his climax with asort of cruel deliberation, "it would hardly require specialsubtleness to perceive that for the man of mature age to marry the_daughter_, after having, in the days of his youth, been the lover ofthe _mother_, is a proceeding, the very idea of which is somewhatrevolting in the average individual.... There are many roues in St.James' who would shrink before it; yet you, the enlightenedphilosopher, the moralist----"
But Sir Adrian, breathing quickly, laid his hand heavily on hisbrother's shoulder.
"When you say the mother's lover, Rupert," he said, in a containedvoice, which was as ominous of storm as the first mutters of thunder,"you mean that I loved her--you do not mean to insinuate that thatnoble woman, widowed but a few weeks, whose whole soul was filled withbut one lofty idea, that of duty, was the mistress--the mistress of aboy, barely out of his teens?"
Rupert shrugged his shoulders.
"I insinuate nothing, my dear Adrian; I think nothing. All this isancient history which after all has long concerned only you. You knowbest what occurred in the old days, and of course a man of honour isbound to deny all tales affecting a lady's virtue! Even you, I fancy,would condescend so far. But nevertheless, reflect how this marriagewill rake up the old story. It will be remembered how you, for thesake of remaining by Cecile de Savenaye's side, abandoned your home tofight in a cause that did not concern you; nay, more, turned yourback for the time upon those advanced social theories which even atyour present season of life you have not all shaken off. You travelledwith her from one end of England to the other, in the closestintimacy, and finally departed over seas, her acknowledged escort. Sheon her side, under pretext of securing the best help on her politicalmission that England can afford her, selected a young man notoriouslyin love with her, at the very age when the passions are hottest, andwisdom the least consideration--as her influential agent, of course.Men are men, Adrian--especially young men--small blame to you, youngthat you were, if then ... but you cannot expect, in sober earnest,the world to believe that you went on such a wild pilgrimage fornothing! Women are women--especially young women, of the Frenchcourt--who have never had the reputation of admiring bashfulness instalwart young lovers...."
Sir Adrian's hand, pressing upon his brother's shoulder, as ifweighted by all his anger, here forced the speaker into silence.
"Shame! Shame, Rupert!" he cried first, his eyes aflame with agenerous passion; then fiercely: "Silence, fellow, or I will take youby that brazen throat of yours and strangle the venomous lie once forall." And then, with keen reproach, "That you, of my blood, of herstoo, should be the one to cast such a stigma on her memory--that youshould be unable even to understand the nature of our intercourse....Oh, shame, on you for your baseness, for your vulgar, lowsuspiciousness!... But, no, I waste my breath upon you, you do notbelieve this thing. You have outwitted yourself this time. Hear menow: If anything could have suggested to me this alliance with thechild of one I loved so madly and so hopelessly, the thought that suchdastardly slander could ever have been current would have done so. Theworld, having nothing to gain by the belief, will never credit thatSir Adrian Landale would marry the daughter of his paramour--howeverhis own brother may deem to his advantage to seem to think so! Thefact of Molly de Savenaye becoming Lady Landale would alone, had suchill rumours indeed been current in the past, dispel the ungenerouslegend for ever."
There were a few moments of silence while Sir Adrian battled, in thetumult of his indignation, for self-control again; while Rupert,realising that he had outwitted himself indeed, bestowed inward cursesupon most of his relations and his own fate.
The elder brother resumed at length, with a faint smile:
"And so, you see, even if you had spoken out in time, it would havebeen of little avail." Then he added, bitterly. "I have received awound from an unforeseen quarter. You have dealt it, to no purpose,Rupert, as you see ... though it may be some compensation to such anature as yours to know that you have left in it a subtle venom."
The sun had already sunk away, and its glow behind the waters hadfaded to the merest tinge. In the cold shadow of rising night the twomen advanced silently homewards. Sir Adrian's soul, guided by theinvidious words, had flown back to that dead year, the central pointof his existence--It was true: men will be men--in that very house,yonder, he had betrayed his love to her; on board the ship that tookthem away and by the camp fire on the eve of fight, he had pleaded thecause of his passion, not ignobly indeed, with no thought of thebaseness which Rupert assigned to him, yet with a selfish disregard ofher position, of his own grave trust. And it was with a glow of pride,in the ever living object of his life's devotion--of gratitudealmost--that he recalled the noble simplicity with which the woman,whom he had just heard classed among the every-day sinners of society,had, without one grandiloquent word, without even losing her womanlysoftness, kept her lover as well as herself in the path of her loftyideal--till the end. And yet she did love him: at the last awfulmoment, sinking into the very jaws of death, the secret of her hearthad escaped her
. And now--now her beauty, and something of her ownlife and soul was left to him in her child, as the one fit object onwhich to devote that tenderness which time could not change.
* * * * *
After a while, from the darkness by his side came the voice of hisbrother again, in altered, hardly recognisable accents.
"Adrian, those last words of yours were severe--unjust. I do notdeserve such interpretation of my motives. Is it my fault that you arenot as other men? Am I to be blamed for judging you by the ordinarystandard? But you have convinced me: you were as chivalrous as Cecilewas pure, and if needs be, believe me, Adrian, I will maintain it soin the face of the world. Yes, I misunderstood you--and wounded you,as you say, but such was not my intention. Forgive me."
They had come to the door. Sir Adrian paused. There was a rapidrevulsion in his kindly mind at the extraordinary sound of humblewords from his brother; and with a new emotion, he replied, taking thehand that with well-acted diffidence seemed to seek his grasp:
"Perhaps we have both something to forgive each other. I fear you didnot misjudge me so much as you misjudged her who left me that preciouslegacy. But believe that, believe it as you have just now said,Rupert, the mother of those children never stooped to humanfrailty--her course in her short and noble life was as bright and pureas the light of day."
Without another word the two brothers shook hands and re-entered theirhome.
Sir Adrian sought Miss O'Donoghue whom he now found in converse withMolly, and with a grave eagerness, that put the culminating touch tothe old lady's triumph, urged the early celebration of his nuptials.
Mr. Landale repaired to his own study where in solitude he could giveloose rein to his fury of disappointment, and consider as carefully ashe might in the circumstances how best to work the new situation tohis own advantage.
* * * * *
Even on that day that had been filled with so many varied and poignantemotions for him; through the dream in which his whole being seemed tofloat, Sir Adrian found a moment to think of the humble followers whomhe had left so abruptly on the island, and of the pleasure theauspicious news would bring to them.
It was late at night, and just before parting with the guest who wasso soon to be mistress under his roof, he paused on the stairs beforea window that commanded a view of the bay. Molly drew closer and leantagainst his shoulder; and thus both gazed forth silently for sometime at the clear distant light, the luminous eye calmly watching overthe treacherous sands.
That light of Scarthey--it was the image of the solitary placid lifeto which he had bidden adieu for ever; which even now, at this briefinterval of half a day, seemed as far distant as the years of despairand vicissitude and disgust to which it had succeeded. A man can feelthe suddenly revealed charm of things that have ceased to be, withoutregretting them.
With the dear young head that he loved, with a love already as old asher very years, pressing his cheek; with that slender hand in hisgrasp, the same, for his love was all miracle, that he had held in thehot-pulsed days of old--he yet felt his mind wander back to his nestof dreams. He thought with gratitude of Rene, the single-minded,faithful familiar; of old Margery, the nurse who had tended Cecile'schildren, as well as her young master; thought of their joy when theyshould hear of the marvellous knitting together into the web of hisfate, of all those far-off ties.
In full harmony with such fleeting thoughts, came Molly's words atlength breaking the silence.
"Will you take me back to that strange old place of yours, Adrian,when we are married?"
Sir Adrian kissed her forehead.
"And would you not fear the rough wild place, child," he murmured.
"Not for ever, I mean," laughed the girl, "for then my mission wouldnot be fulfilled--which was to make of Adrian, Sir Adrian, indeed. Butnow and again, to recall those lovely days, when--when you were sodistracted for the love of Murthering Moll and the fear lest sheshould see it. You will not dismantle those queer rooms that receivedso hospitably the limping, draggled-tailed guest--they must againshelter her when she comes as proud Lady Landale! How delicious itwould be if the tempest would only rage again, and the sea-mew shriek,and the caverns roar and thunder, and I knew you were as happy as I amsure to be!"
"All shall be kept up even as you left it," answered Sir Adrian movedby tender emotion; "to be made glorious again by the light of youryouth and fairness. And Renny shall be cook again, and maid of allwork. My poor Renny, what joy when he hears of his master's happiness,and all through the child of his beloved mistress! But he will have tospend a sobering time of solitude out there, till I can find asubstitute for his duties."
"You are very much attached to that funny little retainer, Adrian!"said Molly after a pause.
"To no man alive do I owe so much. With no one have I had, throughlife, so much in common," came the grave reply.
"Then," returned the girl, "you would thank me for telling you of themeans of making the good man's exile less heavy, until you take himback with you."
"No doubt." There was a tone of surprise and inquiry in his voice.
"Why, it is simple enough. Have you never heard of his admiration forMoggie Mearson, our maid? Let them marry. They will make a good pair,though funny. What, you never knew it? Of course not, or you would nothave had the heart to keep the patient lovers apart so long. Let themmarry, my Lord of Pulwick: it will complete the romance of thepersecuted Savenayes of Brittany and their helpful friends of thedistant North."
Musing, Sir Adrian fell into silence. The faithful, foolish heart thatnever even told its secret desire, for very fear of being helped towin it; by whom happiness and love were held to be too dearly boughtat the price of separation from the lonely exile!
"_Eh bien_, dreamer?" cried the girl gaily.
"Thank you, Molly," said Sir Adrian, turning to her with shining eyes."This is a pretty thought, a good thought. Renny will indeed doublybless the day when Providence sent you to Pulwick."
And so, the following morn, Mr. Renny Potter was summoned to hear thetidings, and informed of the benevolent prospects more privatelyconcerning his own life; was bidden to thank the future Lady Landalefor her service; was gently rebuked for his long reticence, andfinally dismissed in company of the glowing Moggie with a promise thathis nuptials should be celebrated at the same time as those of thelord of the land. The good fellow, however, required first of all anassurance that these very fine plans would not entail anyinterference with his duties to his master before he would allowhimself to be pleased at his fortunes. Great and complex, then, washis joy; but it would have been hard to say, as Moggie confessed toher inquiring mistress that night, when he had returned to his post,whether the pride and delight in his master's own betrothal was notuppermost in his bubbling spirits.
The Light of Scarthey: A Romance Page 21