Faithful Margaret: A Novel
He would pass this side of Castle Brand on his way to the kennels, and
the cowardly assassin would have either to fly or be seen.
An imprecation burst from him in a voice which betrayed his fury, his
disappointment, his apprehension.
A wild smile quivered over Margaret's white face as she saw the arm
withdrawn and heard the dismal moan of the night wind through the hole.
Hasty feet crunched on the sleet-covered balcony, and the scratching
sound of a man swinging himself down by some rattling chain-ladder
followed.
The quick gallop of the horses' feet shortly became audible, and she
knew that the squire, with his groom, were clattering up to the
court-yard of the castle.
Five minutes afterward a hissing whistle was answered by a snort from
the patient blood-hound, which had watched so long at the door, his
light feet scratched their way down the slippery oaken stairs, and once
more Margaret was alone.
She had been saved through a night of peril such as turns the jetty
locks of youth to the lustrous white; she had been saved to rush for aid
and have the murderer arrested with the pistol still in his hand.
She was a free woman once more, and God had been kind to her this long
dread night.
She rose from her paralyzing attitude and approached her little bed to
sink on her knees beside it and pour out her full heart of gratitude to
Heaven, but she only went a little way and fell on her face and fainted.
And the first sun-ray of another dawning smote across the weary old
world, flushing its icy bosom, and stole through the hole in the
shutter, and touched the ceiling, thus casting a reflected beam, like a
faint smile, upon the unconscious face of the orphan girl.
CHAPTER XX.
THE IMPOSTOR FOILED.
At ten o'clock of the morning Mrs. Chetwode was knocking at Miss
Walsingham's bedroom door.
"Excuse me, miss, for disturbing you, but the colonel is here, and
wishes most particular to see you."
"Oh, please leave me alone," answered the young lady from within, weakly
and plaintively: "I am ill and can see no one."
The housekeeper returned to Colonel
Brand, who was pacing about in the gallery, under the long lines of dead
Brands, among which was not the face of the latest dead, and informed
him with a lugubrious face that Miss Walsingham was wild yet as she had
been last night, and seemed afraid to open the door, which was one of
her meagrims, poor dear, to have it locked, and her not well.
"Keep her quiet," answered the colonel, with that crafty smile of his
behind his long and stealthy hand, "she is going to have a serious
illness. Keep her very quiet. Poor lady, she shows signs of insanity;
keep her perfectly quiet."
Then, to be on hand, in case the young lady should consent to see him,
as he informed Mrs. Chetwode, he made himself at home in a quiet way at
Castle Brand, sauntering, with his hands in his pockets, through the
wide rooms; smoking on the front steps, eating lunch in a room which
commanded a view of the stairway, with his ugly companion by his side,
whose dripping fangs and blood-shot eyes were his master's admiring
study, and often slapping his own chest with an angry malediction,
because a certain rawness, or hoarseness, had got into his windpipe.
No adoring lover could have expressed more anxiety concerning the lady
of his heart than did the gallant colonel for Miss Walsingham. He sent
up a bulletin in the shape of John the footman every hour, to listen at
the young lady's door whether she was moving--not to disturb her, only
to listen, and bring back word to this anxious well-wisher.
Thus passed the morning below stairs.
How fared it with poor Margaret?
Nature had suffered a complete collapse. The horror of the night was
telling upon her pale, drawn face, her bloodless lips, and nerveless
hands. Utter exhaustion was weighing her down.
If her enemy had been making a bonfire of Castle Brand beneath her,
profound exhaustion would have compelled her to lie there and doze, even
while she perished in the flames.
She lay in bed with half-closed eyes, tossing from side to side as the
piercing light from the hole in the shutter worried her; dozing heavily,
often waking to murmur some feverish thought, starting up and
listening--sinking back in her weakness to sleep again.
Toward the middle of the afternoon she roused herself, came to a
completer sense of reality than she had done yet, and sprang from her
bed. She had to sit for several minutes upon the side of it, with her
hands tightly clasped upon her brow, before she could come to a decision
as to what her next move could be.
"I am mad to waste the few hours of grace in sleep, instead of putting
myself, under the protection of my friends!" she said.
"I must not lose another hour."
She rang the bell, and began to dress herself as hurriedly as weakness
would admit of.
"Are you up, Miss Margaret, dear?" said the housekeeper, anxiously, from
the hall.
She unlocked the door, held it opened fearfully, and beckoned her to
come in.
The old lady's first look was at the girl's face, at which she gasped.
Her next was at the window, from which a blinding ray and a cold current
of air assailed her; at which she shrieked:
"Lord ha' mercy! How came that there?"
"Ask me nothing," shuddered Margaret. "I am going to have the affair
sifted to the bottom."
"But why didn't you raise the house? Wasn't it a burglar?"
"No. I can tell you nothing about it until I have put myself under the
protection of Mr. Davenport and the doctor."
She spoke quite evenly, but there was a suspicious wildness about her
eyes which struck a new vein in the prolific brain of the housekeeper.
"Miss Margaret, deary! you didn't surely make that hole yourself?"
Margaret burst into vehement laughter. Her brain was so tried and
over-strained that a touch might turn it. To ask her if she had done it!
And then, on the other hand, to think that Mrs. Chetwode should seem to
be distrusting her sanity, like the others!
Down came the tears in a rushing torrent!
"My! She's in hysterics!" shrieked Mrs. Chetwode, catching the poor girl
in her arms. "Don't, dear, don't!" shaking her vigorously. "Be quiet
now, deary, love! Whisht! whisht!"
Wilder grew Margaret's sobs, shriller her laughter. She writhed herself
out of Mrs. Chetwode's arms, and pointed to the door.
"You have left it open!" she gasped, "and the colonel will shoot me!
Shut it, for heaven's sake!"
Mrs. Chetwode locked the door, with a glance at her mistress, which
said, as plain as eyes could say it:
"Poor thing! She is crazy!"
"Miss Margaret, dear, go back to your bed. You're not fit to be up at
all to-day. When you feel better, we'll find out about this shutter
business. Or may be you'd better come into my room. There's a dreadful
draught here."
"I must go down to Dr. Gay," said Margaret, still hysterically. "Tell
Symonds to have the carriage ready."
"Miss Margaret, lovey! I don't know that the colonel will like you to go
out. I--I'm not sure that he'll let you.
"Is he in this house?"
"He's waited from ten o'clock, until now, nigh on four o'clock to see
you when you should get up. He told me you weren't well."
"Mrs. Chetwode--oh, dear Mrs. Chetwode save me from that man! I must
escape from Castle Brand without his knowledge."
"Let me send for Dr. Gay to come to you," she answered, uneasily.
"No, no!" moaned the over-tried girl. "My life is not safe here another
night. I insist upon leaving Castle Brand."
Mrs. Chetwode walked to the window and employed herself in opening the
shutter.
What she saw when the shutter was opened struck her dumb with surprise
for some minutes.
A complete pane of glass had been removed, and set against the balcony
railing. A glazier's diamond lay beside it; a chisel was dropped upon
the farther end of the balcony; deep foot-prints were in the snow, and a
blackened place before the window showed where the midnight watch had
been kept.
"Good Lor'!" ejaculated the old woman, "must have been a bold thief."
"It was Colonel Brand!"
Mrs. Chetwode gasped, eyed her suspiciously, backed a few steps, and
took hold of the door handle.
"Poor thing!" she whispered to herself.
"Mrs. Chetwode, I told you last night to see that all the doors were
locked. Did you?"
"Yes, Miss Margaret, dear! Yes."
"The library glass door?"
The housekeeper looked disconcerted.
"It went clean out of my mind, sure enough."
"Ha! That is how the watch was placed at my door."
"Good gracious! A watch at your door?"
"The colonel's sleuth-hound."
The housekeeper unlocked the door, rushed out, and went straight to
Colonel Brand.
"Well, my good woman, you look disturbed," said that amiable thug,
taking his cigar out of his mouth to blow a spiral curl of smoke at her;
"have you been with Miss Walsingham, and is she as wild in her manner as
she was last evening when I had the honor of escorting you both home
from your walk?"
"Worse, sir, far worse; she's out of her mind complete as you may say.
And she's had a dreadful fright through the night."
"Ah! What is that?"
"Some rank rascal has tried to break in. It's an attempt at burglary,
which didn't succeed, but it have made her wild like."
"An attempt at burglary? How very extraordinary!"
"And she is raving about it, poor soul. Oh, dear me, we must send for
Dr. Gay."
"Yes, you had better send for Dr. Gay instantly, Chetwode. What may the
nature of her ravings be?" inquired the colonel, blandly.
"All sorts of things: that your dog there was at her door all night,
and--and other fancies."
"Ah!" in a tone of sympathetic interest; "unfortunate girl! Here, Argus,
good dog, speak up for your character, my boy!"
The dog blinked his small blood-shot eyes, and rose to shake himself, as
if he meditated a spring upon his traducer.
"Oh, Lor', don't show me to him," exclaimed Mrs. Chetwode, shrinking out
of view.
The colonel showed his long, hungry teeth, by way of grim smile, and
gave the animal a kick. "Don't be afraid. Are you going to send, then,
for Miss Walsingham's friends?"
"Would you say so, sir?" said the anxious creature, wavering between the
desire to humor her young mistress, and the fear of disobeying the
colonel.
"I would say so, certainly. The affair of the attempted robbery should
certainly be followed up for one thing; her state of mind attended to
for another."
Margaret's bell rang, and Mrs. Chetwode went up stairs, almost afraid to
venture near her again.
"Has Symonds got the carriage ready?" cried Margaret, the instant she
appeared.
She was sitting with her bonnet on, dressed for her drive, with a
satchel in her hand.
"Lor', you're not fit to go out," ejaculated Chetwode, in amazement.
"We're going to have Dr. Gay up to the castle, since you want him so, my
deary."
"Did Colonel Brand say I was not to leave the house?" demanded Margaret.
"He thinks you're not well enough, that's a fact."
"I defy him, or any one to keep me prisoner here. You must disregard
him, Mrs. Chetwode, and get me driven down to Regis."
"I'm afeard to do it, Miss Margaret."
"Then I shall defy him, and go before his eyes. Get Symonds ready
silently, that there may be no opposition. As you value my life, go."
Mrs. Chetwode, torn between two influences, and always subject to the
latest, bounded out of the room as if the limbs of twenty years ago had
been miraculously granted her, and went stealthily enough down the long
stairs to the servant's quarters.
In fifteen minutes she ventured back with a bottle of wine under her
apron.
"He's ready, miss, and at the lower door. You needn't meet the colonel
at all; he's just gone into the library, and shut himself in. Now, my