One of the Six Hundred: A Novel
police stand our friends.--GUY LIVINGSTONE.
The day wore away, the shadows of evening came, and all unaware of the
rod that was in pickle for me, and the awkward surprise that was
preparing, after making a most careful toilet at the barracks, that I
might keep my cherished appointment at the park, I stuffed Mr.
Goldrick's remittance into my porte-monnaie, and set out in mufti for
the cottage near the Reculvers. As I cantered along, anxious to perform
my duty there, and without loss of time to turn my bridle towards
Chillingham Park, I contrasted the happiness and the hopefulness of
Louisa's love and mine with the futile passion which the poor lost Agnes
Auriol cherished for the worthless Berkeley; and while my heart,
inspired by new and joyous impulses since the morning interview,
sincerely mourned for her, it was at the same time soothed by the
conviction that I could enable her to depart on that melancholy and
filial pilgrimage to which she had dedicated her failing--it too surely
seemed her last--energies.
I half hoped, too, that I might hear no more of her and her sorrows, and
with the varied contingencies of foreign service in the field before me,
there were ten chances to one against my ever doing so.
I had more than once asked of myself why this unfortunate young lady so
deeply interested me; and with what object, if not pure benevolence, and
to learn something of Berkeley's movements, I sought or continued her
acquaintance.
To Louisa my love and constancy remained unshaken; and fanned anew by
the morning's interview, they were stronger now than ever. Yet,
to-night, some strange impulse urged me on this secret visit--one that I
had already resolved should be the last---when prudence should have made
me pause, and even at the hazard of wounding Miss Auriol's feelings,
have sent by the hand of Willie Pitblado the promised money to Mrs.
Goldsworthy.
Berkeley, from the first hour we met together at the mess of the
lancers, I had ever disliked, and I scarcely knew why; but, like the
Chevalier Achille, I felt that, "if I had a star of destiny, and that
man another, my star grew livid and pale when his crossed it." It was
the old adage of Dr. Fell, and I had a conviction that he was
predestined to work me mischief in some way, or in some fashion, and now
the time had come.
I reached the cottage, left my horse at the little green trellis-work
porch, and was duly ushered into the presence of Miss Auriol by her
anxious and motherly old attendant. She was seated in an easy-chair,
half propped up by pillows, and so great was the languor oppressing her,
that on this evening (for the air was remarkably close) she could
scarcely rise to greet me.
A small scarlet shawl was spread over her head; and its bright hue, when
taken in concert with the extreme pallor and purity of her complexion,
and the blackness of her smoothly banded hair, made the girl's strange
beauty more fascinating and piquante than ever.
There was a charm in her half blush, her smiling bow, and the timid
grace with which she received me, which made me feel that, with all the
faults of the past, there was a great degree of worth and sincerity in
Agnes Auriol still, and that she merited a very different fate in life;
but, anxious to keep my appointment at the park, I at once handed her
the porte-monnaie containing the money, and without accepting the chair
proffered to me by Mrs. Goldsworthy, or even laying aside my hat, I
said--
"Miss Auriol, I have come in great haste, and am required elsewhere,
almost at this moment. There you will find what you require for your
purpose and immediate necessities."
"Captain Norcliff, this kindness is too much--too much. Nurse
Goldsworthy told me that you had promised this gift; but I--I know not
if I should accept--if I dare accept it from you----"
Tears choked her utterance, and then came on a paroxysm of her hard,
dry, and racking cough.
I placed a hand caressingly on her head, and advised her to be careful
of her health, for that terrible cough----"Is all the hope I have now of
ultimate relief," said she, looking up, with her dark eyes swimming in
tears, and with a sublime brightness in them. "My dear mamma died of
consumption, and with just such a cough; so did all my little brothers
and sisters; and the presentiment is strong within me that I shall join
them ere long--hence my wish, to die near the place where they lie."
"You must not talk in this mournful way, Miss Auriol--you are too
beautiful and too young to court such an early fate," said I.
"Yet my little golden-haired brother, for whom I toiled and starved
myself amid the vast and selfish wilderness of London, died earlier.
Oh, Captain Norcliff, I would that he and I had passed away together,
and now one grave might have held us; but then I had Berkeley to live
for--he had not as yet deceived me. Love gave me hope, and I had my
father's fair name to redeem. I shall die soon--I know and feel it.
Consumption was my only inheritance, and the agony of mind I have so
long endured, since my days of toil and sin, has but served to encourage
and develop that terrible disease."
As she said this, her teeth chattered, as if with cold, and I turned her
chair nearer to the scanty fire that burned in the little grate.
"And this money, which you, sir, so kindly give me; I know not, as I
said before, whether I should accept it--indeed, I should not----"
"Nay, don't offend me by a refusal," said I, taking her cold and slender
fingers in mine, and closing them over the packet of notes.
"But, sir--sir," she urged plaintively, "even if I am spared to live a
few years, I shall never be able to return it."
"Heed not that, Miss Auriol--you may outlive me; the end of this month
will see me far away from Britain."
She gazed at me earnestly and wistfully, and said--
"Heaven bless and protect you, sir! My last prayers shall be for you
and for your safety," and bowing her face upon my hand, she kissed it
and wept, while I strove in vain to withdraw it; but at the same time
placed the other kindly on her head, to soothe and reassure her.
At that moment the door of the little parlour was thrown violently open,
and a cry of terror escaped Mrs. Goldsworthy. I looked up, and felt as
if I had been thunderstruck.
There stood Lady Louisa Loftus, and Cora, and Berkeley. Those three
here! I mentally wondered who the deuce would come next.
I drew hurriedly back from Miss Auriol, who looked up in alarm, and then
her eyes wandered in bewilderment from the faces of her fair visitors,
till they settled with a sad, haggard, and beseeching stare, upon the
well-moustached face of Berkeley, who stood there with his usual
unmeaning smile.
"Doocid good tableau--haw!" he muttered.
"So--so this is the duty which prevented us from having the pleasure of
your company at dinner, Captain Norcliff?" said Lady Louisa.
"A pressing duty, doubtless," added Berkeley.
"Whence this intrusion?" I demanded, perceiving the whole network of
treachery at a glance. "Whence this intrusion, Mr. Berkeley?" I
fiercely reiterated, while my heart swelled with passion at my equivocal
position, and I felt that my life, certainly the loss of Louisa's love,
might pay the penalty of my supposed, and, for aught I knew, alleged
intrigue with a poor creature whom I simply pitied.
I felt that I was outwitted and overmatched by a cold-blooded, cunning,
and sarcastic parvenu; one of those padded and perfumed military snobs,
who are among her Majesty's worst bargains, and who excite alike the
contempt of the soldier and the ridicule of the civilian. I felt, too,
all the peril of my position, and almost quailed before the strange,
wild glitter of Louisa's eyes, as she surveyed me. They wore such a
smile as might have lit up those of Judith, when she writhed her white
fingers in the curly pate of the sleeping Holofernes.
"Did you hear me speak, Mr. Berkeley?" I thundered out.
"Aw--aw----" he was beginning.
"He will absolutely fight for this creature!" said Louisa, "Poor Cora, I
am sorry that you have to blush for your worthy cousin."
Instead of blushing, poor gentle Cora wept profusely, and knew not what
to think; terror seemed to be her prevailing emotion.
"What am I to understand by all this?" I resumed. "You here, Lady
Loftus, and you, Cora? Mr. Berkeley's visit I might expect; but your
appearance here, ladies, and at this hour, is not involuntary.
Speak--explain--or rather, sir, I shall seek another place and time, and
if--as I too surely believe--this scene has been planned and developed
by you, Mr. Berkeley, woe to you, for your life shall pay the penalty."
He grew pale, and winced a little, and then resumed his eternal smile.
"Such a scene to figure in!" said Louisa, with lofty scorn; "but this
cottage shall be pulled down--it stands on papa's land; and the steward
should be careful whom he permits as tenants in the vicinity of
Chillingham Park."
Crushed to the dust by shame, humiliation, and illness, poor Agnes
Auriol covered her face with her handkerchief, on which the blood-spots
increased with every fresh fit of coughing, and her old nurse, oblivious
of us all, spread her fat arms caressingly and protectingly round her;
but the hateful Berkeley looked coldly and pitilessly on.
"Hear me, Lady Louisa," said I; "and a few words will serve to explain
why I am here."
"Oh, your purse in that creature's hand explains all, sir!" she replied,
with a cutting smile.
"Oh, Newton, Newton!" sobbed Cora; "it seems all too true--why should
you give that girl money?"
Berkeley was the object on which I should have turned; but Lady Louisa
fascinated me, and her presence and Cora's alone prevented me from
knocking him down, or giving him a cut across the face with my
riding-whip. Louisa was, indeed, a picture!
Drawn up to the fullest extent of her tall figure, she stood with her
stately head thrown well back, and her rounded form half turned away, as
if in disdain. An ample Indian shawl of alternate black, gold, and
scarlet stripes had half fallen from her shoulder; her dress--she had
been preparing for dinner when she started on this unlucky and unseemly
errand--a bright, maize-coloured silk, with trimmings and flounces of
rich black lace, displayed the magnificent development of her bust and
lithe waist, and accorded well with her complexion. Her haughty nose,
with its slender pink nostrils, seemed to curl with anger, and her
forehead appeared lower than usual, so heavily fell the rippling masses
of dark hair over her face, which was paler than ever, though the blood
did flow furiously under that transparent skin as her anger gathered.
Her lips, usually scarlet as the petals of the fuschia, were now
colourless; the short upper one was defined and stern; the lower, full
and pouting, trembled with the emotion which she strove to repress; and
her glorious black eyes had in them a mingled expression of fierce
anger, deep reproach, sorrowing love for me, and shame for the whole
affair--such an expression as I hoped never to see in them again.
When her anger prevailed, it was no summer lightning that flashed from
the dark eyes of Louisa--for even her great Saxon ancestor, Lofthus, who
held that thanedom in Yorkshire, before England's conqueror came over at
the head of his high-born housebreakers, had not a prouder or more fiery
temper.
She gave me a deep, earnest, silent, and tearful glance, that said more
than a thousand words, and, taking Cora by the hand, turned and retired
from the cottage before I could speak--turned with the air of one alike
convinced and resolved.
Berkeley, usually so cool and blase, had also a strange light in his
eyes; but it was such a glitter as one might expect to see in the