Faithful Margaret: A Novel
carried out of himself and spoke of the dead, she was dimly conscious;
that the malevolent power which brought him here as a suitor, might also
make him master, became to her dimly conscious too. She trembled before
the depths of a hideous possibility.
"But about this letter," said Colonel Brand, coming again out of his
fog, and smoothing the ugly seams out of his face. "I do not feel
inclined to leave the subject until I have set myself in at least a more
tolerable light before your eyes."
He pulled his handkerchief with a flourish out of his pocket, to flick a
cobweb off Margaret's sleeve, which she had brushed from a bush twenty
minutes since, and as he did so, a small note-book fell to the ground.
Why had he not brushed the cobweb off before?
"I am sure that you will acknowledge that under the
circumstances,"--here he stopped to pick up the
note-book--"disappointment might drive me to say anything,"--he idly
leafed over the book as if searching for something--"and I was really so
astonished at my grandmother's will that surprise seemed to take away my
senses. The idea of insinuating that you had stepped in fraudulently,
and been the parasite which chocked her! And that allusion to Paolo
Orsini strangling his wife--upon my honor as a gentleman, I humbly beg
your pardon! Ah, that is what I was looking for, the autograph of
General McClellan. Can you read characters by writing, or do you care to
examine it, Miss Walsingham?"
She took the book from him at arm's length, and looked silently at the
name.
"The General wrote that in my memorandum-book as a password on one
occasion when I was on a secret embassy. The rough scrawl has often
saved my life since."
Margaret shut the memorandum-book, looked carefully at each cover, and
handed it back.
"_Trap the first has failed!_" she thought. "He is too clever for me.
But, you wretch, I am not daunted yet. A green morocco cover with silver
clasps, and the Brand crest in gilt. Yes I shall know it again, and some
time I shall find out why you dropped it among the withered leaves, if
woman's wit can match man's cunning."
"I can read characters very well sometimes," she replied to the watchful
colonels last remark, "but not by their writing."
They were nearing the house, and Margaret turned aside from the main
entrance to a glass door in the next wing.
"Now for _trap the second_."
"I am going into the library for a book," she said; "that is if the
glass door is open."
Colonel Brand stepped gallantly to the door by which the heir-expectant
had stood during the reading of the will, and shook it.
"Locked," he announced, smilingly.
"You ought to be master of the secret of that lock," returned Margaret,
also smiling, but chilly as an Arctic glacier, "for if the legends of
the place be not overdrawn, this suit of rooms was devoted exclusively
to St. Udo Brand when a boy, and the glass entrance was used by him
instead of the principal door. It is extraordinary that St. Udo when a
man should have forgotten so completely the incidents of his childhood."
"I am ashamed of my stupidity in keeping a lady waiting so long in the
cold wind," said the colonel, standing with his face to the door, "but
before I spoke, I had remarked that the old lock of my childish memory
had been removed, and some patent arrangement put in its place which
resists my clumsy efforts.
"It is the same arrangement," retorted Margaret, with glittering eyes,
"that has been upon the door for thirty years. Mrs. Brand said so, and
Mr. Davenport can vouch for it. This is a strange mistake of yours,
Colonel Brand!"
Again these spots appeared on the Colonel's livid face, like
finger-marks of the devil, and he stole a look of mingled fear and fury
at his tormentor. Not trusting himself to speak he shook the door
savagely.
"Still wrong," said Margaret, mercilessly. "Past experience ought to
have taught you that shaking it only sends the bolts surer home. See."
She pressed the spring of the disputed lock, and the glass leaves slid
open.
"_Trap the second successful._"
"Now," she said, turning within the room, and looking down on him with
her pallid and scornful face, "I have a fancy to know how far this
aberration of mind exists with you. Will you permit me to amuse myself
with an experiment? Will you let me stand here while you stand without,
and describe to me the scene which passed upon the occasion of our first
meeting in this room?"
She put a hand upon each leaf of the door, and formed of herself a
barrier; as if her woman's strength could shut him out of Castle Brand,
and her gray eyes glowed with a new and fierce emotion which her simple
heart had never known of before this man came home to his own.
"Madam," said the colonel, gnawing the head of his cane, like a dog at
the end of his chain, "It is not all astonishing that I should have
forgotten the peculiarities of an old glass door, even though I often
used it in my boyhood; other and graver memories might easily displace
such trivialities and I never professed to cherish the old associations
of Castle Brand with much reverence. But the scene of our first meeting
can never escape my recollection. It is cruel of you to recall the most
abject moment of my life, but since you insist upon it, I cannot choose
but obey.
"You came out of the shadow of St. George, after the reading of the will
by Davenport, and at the polite little doctor's introduction, I was
ungallant enough to indulge in unseemly laughter, and to exclaim: 'Ye
Gods! What a Medusa!' at which--shall I ever forget your superb
indignation!--you gathered your skirts and swept like a queen from the
room. My dear madam, do I describe the scene accurately? It is not every
woman who would have had the nerve to call up such a scene as that from
the vast depths of memory; I must perforce admire your courage
and--shall I say? your incredulity!"
He bowed sardonically. The ugly seams, so suggestive of crime and
cunning, had come back upon his brow, and he doffed his hat; the
twitching face bore a smile of triumph, which revealed how sure he felt
of victory.
"_Trap the third has signally failed_," thought Margaret; "this part at
least of St. Udo's history has been well studied. Ah, he will be too
clever for me!"
She dropped her hands from the leaves of the door and stood aside, while
a slight increase of palor stole up to her face.
"You have satisfied me, Colonel Brand. Come in if you please."
He silently entered, and with one accord, these two people, who were
tacitly drawing together their forces for a deadly conflict, turned and
eyed each other; she with stern-unflinching defiance; he with a
quailing, yet impudent look of confident success.
In that dumb scrutiny, they seemed to be measuring each other's
capabilities.
"Miss Walsingham?" said the colonel, after this strange pause, "I can
see that you have taken a deep animosity against me, probably because of
my treatment of my grandmother's will; we shall suppose it is. Now, my
dear young lady, I shall try to explain myself and to set myself right
with you, so that in the future we may perfectly understand each other.
I have come back to my native land determined to obey, if possible, that
part of the will which refers to me--determined to try my best to win
Miss Walsingham's regard--determined to make it no fault of mine if the
name of Brand is forgotten. Knowing these three things to be my set
purposes, are you willing to forgive generously what the meaner-minded
of your sex could not forgive, and to drop the past between us? Are you
willing that we should be friends?"
With his head on one side, and his eyes watchfully taking note of his
listener's face, he bent forward with a certain vailed significance and
clasped her hand.
"Away!" cried Margaret, shaking him off as she would have shaken off a
reptile, and regarding him in a perfect passion of horror, "do you dare
to expect that I could enter into a compact with _you_?"
Something crept into his eyes which made her shudder.
"I have asked you to forgive my former insults, and you have refused,"
he said; "but remember, I asked you to enter into no compact with me.
All the world is at liberty to know that St. Udo Brand repented of his
foolishness, and came home to carry out his grandmother's will. If the
world believes anything else of me, I shall know that Margaret
Walsingham not only refused to be my friend, but cast off all
obligations to the dead and became my enemy. The Brands of Brand Castle
have ever been famous for their ferocity. I shall be sorry if a woman
should fall a prey to it."
"I will never wrong St. Udo Brand," said the meek woman, suddenly
withstanding him with blazing eyes, "but I will guard Ethel Brand's
dying wishes from being fraudulently represented, whoever dares to
fraudulently represent them."
"And I, deeply impressed with the conviction that Seven-Oak Waaste will
fall ultimately into the possession of its rightful heir--that is
myself--intend to permit no fair lady's frown to turn me from my
ancestor's doors."
Again they gazed at each other--deeper horror and passionate
determination in her eyes, darker folds of sin and cunning on his brow,
while a smile played round his wicked mouth, fatal as the blasting
lightning.
"You shall have to weather the frowns of more than me before you are
master of this castle," said Margaret.
"Is that a declaration of war?"
He tried in his wrath and apprehension to catch her hand again, but she
slid with a gasp out of his reach and passed through the door.
"You ask if I have made a declaration of war," said Margaret, turning
when the length of the hall was between them; "and I am not afraid to
say--yes. If there be a hidden page in your life which you would keep
from me, tremble for your chances of Brand Castle."
She vanished from his gaze, and the fitful wind swept from door to door
of the library with the howl of a hundred furies.
Mrs. Chetwode, who was busy in the glass pantry which faced the library,
thought to herself that she had never seen such an evil looking face as
that which looked out of the half-closed door for full five minutes.
The eyes became small and crafty; the forehead receded and narrowed to a
Mongolian size; the mouth drooped with a fang-like ferocity;
infinitesimal wrinkles, not often seen there, dawned into view like the
folds of the deadly cobra before its spring.
"Heaven preserve me!" interjected the housekeeper, turning her back upon
the unholy vision; "I do think Colonel Brand the wickedest-looking man
ever I saw. Heaven send poor Miss Margaret a better husband."
Meantime Margaret, struck with a mortal panic, was walking fast down the
road to Regis, quite unmindful of the calls of etiquette which
prescribed for her the part of hostess to the visitor.
She left the Waaste with its grim, bare trees and its battlemented
towers behind her; she left the lodge, clinging to its nook of ivy wall,
behind her; she tried to shake off the crawling terror which oppressed
her, and drank in the freshening gusts of wind as if her throat had been
constrained by an iron hand.
"What have I dared to do?" she thought. "Have I thrown the gauntlet of
defiance at him? And if he takes it up, what will become of me? But to
imagine he could personate the brave St. Udo! Reptile!" she exclaimed,
with a suddenly clenched hand, "I could crush you beneath my heel: You
have no right to live, you monster!"
Faster she walked, although she was so thin and weak with her recent ill
health that her limbs trembled beneath her; and in the urgent alarm
which had taken possession of her, she marched straight through the
village to the law-office of Mr. Davenport.
"My dear lady," ejaculated that functionary, arising in consternation,