St. Briavels

Front matter

VOL. Ill, i;v MARY DEANE AUTHOR OF " QUATREFOIL." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON : HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 13. GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1886. All rights reserved. FITTE YE THIRD. Mother Good-Oddity sent them to play in hor garden again. Half the children ran to peep at the little wee Jack-o'-lantern, and the little wee Jackatywod caught them in his butterfly nets, and stuck them through with great pins, and twirled them round and round until they were so giddy that they saw everything upside down. The rest of the children opened the gate and fell into a ditch. At the bottom of the ditch lived a red ferret, and the red ferret caught them with bird-lime that glittered like gold. He sucked their blood and hung them up to dry. Now, some of the children got away and some did not, and Mother Good-Oddity gave some a taste of the jam-pots, and some a taste of the birch ; and so sho sent them all to bed. Fairish Tales.

Chapter I

Benton enclosed a letter from Rosemary in answer to one Laura had written to her, in which the former said, ' I think Hartley came only to hear news of you. He lives at Brandyke no longer, and truly my heart bleeds for him. "Were he to die to-morrow, who would trouble even to ask where he is buried ? And indeed, dearest Miss, he is not a bad man at bottom; everything is against him.' From Bath, Marius and his friend went toHighmeadow. The Bostocks and Benyons were hereditary friends, and the arrival of the two young men made a pleasant break vol. in. B in the monotony of daily life. Mr. Bos tock was tired of tretlrille, aud wanted to hear the news. The papers were poor, scanty provender for the curious, contain ing news dealt out in niggardly driblets. Walking and riding about the country every day, George Benyon still found Marius' deep depression of spirits continue, although when required to exert himself he could do so.

Mr. Bostock observed no change in him, which was fortunate, as any symptom reminding him that human beings are somewhat more than elaborate masterpieces of clock-work was vexatious to him, arousing his contemptuous feelings. However resolutely a vigorous mind may strive to exert its weight-carrying powers, a constant companion must needs discover that the burden is there. Benyon's sympathy being uncalled-for by Marius, he contented himself with the reflection that a disconsolate lover was capable of inflict ing the direst weariness upon his confidant, and that perhaps he had escaped much through Marius choosing to keep his secret. If, as he had begun to suspect, Marius was like himself rejected by Laura, the similarity of their position would have rendered confidences ridiculous ; but Laura's own manner had made him believe for the moment that Marius would have received a very different answer from himself if she followed her inclinations.

What barrier then stood between the two? Benyon, now secure of not having received his wound a la mort, was ready to step for ward, dispel every obstacle, and join the hands of the pair. It was the intention of Marius to carry the Benares belt up to town with him, on his next journey, which was to be in a week's time, and one evening he displayed it to his friend in the sitting-room for ever memorable to him as the place wherein those mornings had been spent, when he had had Laura for his secretary. b2 He could not escape from that sense of silent lornness, which the withdrawal of a much-loved presence leaves. George had been about to take the chair in which Laura used to sit, but Marius hastily pushed another forward. He did not choose that a certain vision of rich dark curls tied with a ribbon on the top of a classic little head, a white hand, and arm to the dimpled elbow, and a shell-like profile half turned away and bending down, should be solidly replaced by George Benyon's broad shoulders and masculine features.

Marius took the splendid jewel from the strong teak-wood box in which he kept it, and without comment laid it in his friend's hands. The last time he bad opened the box — he could not but remember — Laura had taken it from him, her eyes shining with surprise and admiration, throwing, he thought, the precious stones into the shade. ' So this is the famous bauble,' remarked Benyon. ' Did you ever display it to Miss Bostock?' ' Yes, I shewed her this, and other > •curios. 'Ah, you nabobs come from the fabulous land, and lavish your spoils upon the fair — it gives you a monstrous advantage over us, by George ! No woman's proof against a furlong of Indian tissue, or a little monster with ruby eyes.' ' I did not feel at liberty to offer any such trifles to Miss Bostock.' ' Nothing at all ! You did not place them all at her disposal !

You have made a fool of me then — or why, in Jove's name, did you miss such a pleasant way of re commending yourself?' ' What have I said ? Have I ever led you to suppose that I ' ' That you had been before me in the field ? — well, yes.' Then, to cover the awkwardness they were both feeling, Benyon examined the belt attentively. ' It brings Gray's translation of Tasso before me,' he said. '" Here the soft emerald smiles, of verdant hue, And rubies flame, with sapphire's heavenly blue. The diamond there attracts the wondrous sight, Proud of its thousand dyes and luxury of light." 'Tis a good description, is it not?' ' Certainly,' answered Marius, absently. Benyon murmured to himself, 'Let her say why so fix'd and so steady my look, without ever regarding the person who spoke.' Then to Marius : ' Is it not possible that you may have fallen into some mistake?

You are a modest fellow when one does not run foul of some desperate opinions of yours. Why give up in so chicken-hearted a manner ?' ' You have jumped in a hurry to con clusions, George?' Marius answered, but in agitation which betrayed that the usual calm of his manner was not the sign of a phlegmatic nature. ' Between Miss Bostock and myself there is not— there never can be — any tie. You must believe me — for I cannot be questioned upon it.' ' That is enough,' said Benyon, quickly, but thinking all the more. ' Tis she, or I am simply an ass.' After this no further reference was made by either of them to Laura during their stay ; but it did not escape Benyon that her name, mentioned by the Bostocks in the course of conversa tion, never passed unheard by Marius, or failed to have an effect visible to a watch ful eye.

The two young men did not trouble themselves as to whether it was or was not a prudent thing to drive through the Forest of Dene after the shades of evening had fallen. It suited them, upon the day they had fixed for leaving High meadow, to have some sport, either with the rod or the otter hounds, it matters not, and being two together would very properly have thought scorn of danger. Nevertheless, pride even of the most justifiable kind Sometimes has a fall, and they had no conception that certain persons had taken the trouble to gather from afar, and had met at the ' Buck and Bowl ' at Coleford, for the express malicious purpose of putting a bitter check upon that journey of theirs. Between Highmeadow House and Mitcheldene is no very great distance, but a wild lot, for whom the law held little terror, peopled the deep glens aud bosky knolls, and, if the devil sent Murder and Robbery to lurk by the way, the chances were ten to one in their favour — as mortals count.

They set off in the travelling carriage which George, whose ways were the ways of a dandy, had brought with him to Bath, and thence on. How light built and irreproachable a conveyance it was ! how elegantly finished were the trappings ! how well-horsed ! Away it rolled, with postillion in gay silk jacket and neat top-boots, cracking his whip in a way that made the rabbits tremble, and squirrels peep, and offended the deer in the Highmeadow woods. The hedgehogs thought the creature ran .very fast, and might be sorry in the end for it, and the badgers craned their necks to see it from their rocks before the Forest swal lowed it up. Some learned gentlemen of the present and the last centuries bold certain theories about places here and there being possessed of the Evil One. The latter history of the travellers along that road to Mitchel dene clearly points to this being the case here, and possibly accounts for a new road being made very soon after.

There were steep hills along that road as there are all over the forest, and, though George Benyon's good horses would have scorned to make a fuss, they must be mercifully used. The way was growing all over dim and shadowy, with the indistinctness that many trees combining against the light even of a May sky bestow, when the travellers reached Nail Bridge without a thought that anything would go amiss there, more than at any other point of the journey, when in a moment out spring three mask ed and thoroughly-armed men — the gay postillion is knocked off, the traces cut, George fires wildly, hitting nothing but a birch-tree, which will hold the shot to its dying day, and Marius jumps out intend ing to take mighty good aim if he only gets an instant to do it in. Their two ser vants, Frenchman and Hindoo, do not appear in the affair, but reserve their strength, like prudent allies, who, at least, if they come too late for fighting, can pick up the dead and wounded.

Two men fell upon George, and one upon Marius, the latter, tallest of the trio, having pretty roughly repelled one of his accomplices who made as though he would meddle with his part of the business. ' D it, d'ye think I can't deal with him alone ?' George fought like a British dog, on the spot where many a Briton and Saxon had been locked in deadly embrace ; but no further harm was offered to him than the rough treatment his resistance brought upon him. No fire arms were used, and, though they knocked and wrested his away from him, it was all one strong fellow could do, when the other had left him to rifle the carriage, to keep his muscular, but soon panting, frame from being pounded into gelatine. George could box and fence too, as every gentle man could, and was younger a long way than bis adversary, although inclined to more flesh than pleased him.

He parried blows like sledge-hammers, and struck them too, wondering that the rascal should hold out so stoutly and meet science with science, for he did not guess that he was engaged with a peer of the realm — of ancient lineage, too — although one who never to the day of his death took his seat in the Upper House. Marius was less well-matched, although tiger-hunting and pig-sticking in India from sixteen to seven-and-twenty are fine things for muscle and nerve ; yet English air and food, as well as an entirely out door life, told ou the part of bis adversary. Besides, the commanding form of the ag gressor was knit after no com mon fashion ; but Marius had the nerve aud absolutely indomitable pluck tbat has taken men of his Anglo-Danish physique through all the hard fights in which England has won ber fame.

This tussle was not, however, to be with squared fists and the weight and hold-fast power of two Britions. 'Out with your sword!' bis man had said between his teeth, and Marius had not hesitated a moment to answer to tbe summons. But there was one immeasurable difference between their manner of fighting. Marius was perfectly cool, and did not intend doing more than disarm the man with some such taste of his sword as should prevent his wishing to proceed with this apparently aimless conflict — for Marius knew that so long as highwaymen got their booty they had rather be free from bloodshed than not. This tall fellow, however, had not so much as asked for his purse, he seemed to thirst for blood as a wild beast might. The passion of hate which was opposing him he little suspected ; he might have been more wary if he bad conjectured that his life was being sought with a burning desire which added force and quickness to the hand that was clenched over bis opponent's sword-hilt.

The fight altogether was not of long duration. Tbe miscreant who bad rifled the baggage of the teak box, with its in estimable treasure, came behind George Benyon and dealt him a coward's blow on bis head with it, upon which poor George fell flat upon the ground. ' Let's be off,' he said. ' Hartley can settle that dog of a nabob — there, he's down !' But Marius, sent backwards by a thrust from the point of the sword which slipped in just under the collar-bone, recovered himself, and saved a second stab with a rapid movement of bis wrist. At this critical moment — although, tbe judge's blood being up as well as flowing, his poiut might in its turn have done some damage greater than a flesh wound, of which it had given several — a tremendous shout came from the north side of the road, and a bull's-eye light flashed between the trees.

There had been an unseen witness to the lying-in-wait of the attacking party, in the shape of Ben Croudfell the younger, who being a shrewd boy had not waited to see the fun, which must have been an enormous piece of self-denial on bis part, but had run off as hard as he could go to fetch bis father, saying there was robbery going on, and he thought murder too. Away went the ' constable,' armed with a bludgeon fit for a set-to with Jack-the-giant killer, and his horn lantern, and followed close by two of his 'verns,' and young Ben. When this formidable party emerged from among the trees, the scoundrel witb the teak box under his arm shouted, ' Leave him, you fool — he's a dead man — unless you've a taste for swinging.' Marius lay motionless on the ground, faint from loss of blood. Casting one look at him — who certainly might have been dead — and another wildly at the distant figures of the advancing miners, Hartlej*' plunged into the wood after his companions, and, long before they could be followed, the three had mounted their horses, and ridden by bye-paths round to the western border and by Monmouth bridge back to Brandyke.

Between Hartley's last lunge, which was aimed direct at the heart of Marius, a dark lithe form had been cast. The Hindoo's devotion to his master had overcome his fears, aud seeing what be had not expected — tbat matters were going tbe wrong way — he slipped between the combatants, and caught tbe blow himself. He was so swift, and the dusk had now deepened so considerably, that ifc is more than probable Hartley in his excited state did not know that his thrust had been in tercepted. He left Marius for dead, and felt a drunken delight in his deed. It was a sorry spectacle upon which tbe bold free miners fell — a scene of ruin and apparent death. However, the judge was the only member of the party in a dan gerous condition, and a consultation was held over him by the rest. His wounds were bound and they laid him on a couple of cloaks stretched between two young saplings belonging to His Majesty, which they took the liberty of pressing into the service, consoling themselves that it was for the 'first quality folk.' Thus they carried him gently — being taught by Nature not to keep step, which was right — all the rest of the way to Mitcheldene, and right up to the vicarage door, with that faith in the wisdom of the parson and the power of a ' Master of Arts,' which used to obtain in remote places before the influx of ' minis ters ' of varied and perplexing profession.

When Mr. Catchmay and his grand daughter recognised the insensible patient, they would not hear of his being taken to the best room at the ' George.' Here and here alone should he stay to have the best of nursing, the most assiduous care that could be had. Each spoke vehement ly after his or her heart, and so it came to pass that a thrust from Hartley Doynion's sword was the means of sending Marius as a guest — whether alive or dead remained vol. in. c to be seen — under tbe hospitable roof which still sheltered Miss Hariot Charters. Tbe country was scoured for the doctor, whose rounds were too extensive to allow of his being easily found. George Benyon was suffering an agonising headache from that cowardly blow which felled him to the ground, but his anxiety for Marius did not allow bim time to attend to it.

He was also in sorrow at having had his work cut short, having been on the point of putting a finishing stroke to the hulking fellow when his friend had come to his rescue. Now, the regular practitioner not being at band, the messenger brought back for better or for worse, as results should prove, a young fellow full of new ideas and his own importance, who, to the grief and horror of Mr. Catchmay, refused to bleed Marius, and actually insisted that there was considerable loss of blood to be made up when it could be managed without danger of increasing fever. The chief wound had just missed being a fatal one ; no great artery had been severed, or severe mischief inflicted on the lungs. As soon as be knew who the patient was, he de clared that, not having any particular press of work at tbat time, owing to an extraordinary healthy season, he felt that humanity required him to devote his whole attention to this critical case.

Pleuro pneumonia would probably set iu, febrile symptoms demanded the closest watching, and probable complications would follow. Upon this and a much longer list of contingencies, Mr. Catchmay implored him to sacrifice any number of patients rather than forsake this one ; Miss Charters wept so inordinately that the young doctor eyed her with a view to another patient, and he stayed on in the house, hospitably enter tained, with no anxiety for the morrow, and conscientiously doing his best for the wounded man, who would certainly have endured many things, if not succumbed c2 altogether under the ignorance of some terrible old hag calling herself a nurse, if be had not been on the spot. Flying in the face of that local provi dence, the regular doctor's prognostica tions, tbe judge went through an inevitable time of suffering with a steady, constitu tional bent towards getting well which, in due course, be arrived at.

His inexperi ence did not allow him to wonder over the doctor's bill when it came in, and he assured his host, who was disposed to question it, that he thought a man could scarce pay too dear for so much skill and attention. Eventually his father, General Newell, in the fulness of his joy at the recovery of this precious son, not only insisted upon repaying him, but sent a handsome present to the doctor, whose reputation was thus established for ever. He came to be a fashionable London physician, and avowed that be could never lose sight of the obligation he owed to those gentlemen of the road, who had sent him the first patient of any standing be had ever attended. Per haps he was the only being who heaved a passing sigh when one. or two of them were removed from the sphere upon which they had barnacled.

The news of the attack upon the two young men reached Windsor in the course of a week, causing great consternation among their friends. Laura's manner of receiving it alarmed her aunt, who read it out to her. ' No, no, no ; it cannot be !' she ex claimed, starting to her feet, and flinging up her arms. ' It's a mistake, aunt — look again — look again !' ' Laura, my dearest !' Then the poor girl sank crouching down to the floor, biding her face, with a moan. ' What shall I do ? What shall I do ?' Her aunt took the prostrate bead, and pressed it against ber knees. 'If I had guessed, dear, I should have broken it more gently to you ; but, my Laura, who could have thought you would so give way? Do you not understand every hope is given of recovery ?' Looking up, and wringing her hands un consciously, Laura replied, ' All the same, it is my doing.' ' Is my Laura losing her senses ?' Mrs. Bostock asked, tenderly. ' Such notions are morbid, my child, whatever your part may have been in sending him away.' Laura glanced inquiringly at her aunt, then shook her head, and went back to ber chair.

It had been settled that she was to re turn very shortly to Highmeadow, travelling some part of the way with Dr. and Mrs. Bostock, who were going to their country-house, and no proposal was made to delay her now ; indeed, her aunt rather urged ber departure, and complimented herself upon a little stroke of diplomacy. Marius would not trespass upon Mr. Catchmay's hospitality a day longer than was necessary ; but opinions differed strongly when that necessity was brought under discussion. He wished to leave as soon as he was allowed to bear the jolting of a carriage ; but Miss Hariot vowed that it would be nothing short of suicide. He gave in, for fear of hurting their susceptibilities; and another week passed away. He felt this to be the most trying period of his illness, though he was too loyal ever to say so.

Miss Hariot was more than attentive ; for, witb an eager resolution to lap him in such luxury and devotion that he would not be able to tear himself away, and the absence of any natural taste or ability for the work of petting and making comfortable, she succeeded in rendering him miserable. When he was weak, he was wearied by having to respond halfa-dozen times, when once would have been enough, to some suggestion of cushions or food that he did not want. She sang to him in order to cheer him ; she made him talk in order to rouse him. So, between 'cheering' and 'rousing,' be had a bad time of it. She used to come in and out of the room so often, for no ostensible purpose, and her hands were so helpless in what they did, that he got into a nervous way of watching her, and of half starting when the door opened.

Joined with sighs of heaviness of soul, and irritation of weak ened nerves, this brought a seedling idea of hers into a most thriving and flourish ing condition. On a Wednesday she settled what her wedding-coat should be ; on the Thursday, Marius announced his fixed intention of leaving that week, upon which be once again saw the young lady in one of those floods of tears which had awakened his sympathies at tbe Speech House. As the tears and sobs increased, he bad endeav oured to get out of tbe room, murmuring something about the housekeeper and a glass of water ; but Hariot knew that it was now or never, and flung herself across his passage. ' You will not go !' she sobbed, extend ing one band to him, while the other stemmed, Avith the help of a handkerchief, the torrent of her tears. ' Did — did — did you come here to break my heart ?' Old or young, ugly or pretty, a woman was sacred to Marius Newell.

He had been taught to consider no man a gentle man of whose creed this was not the first article — after implicit honour in all manner of dealing with men. ' Miss Charters,' he said, humbly, ' you do me great honour. I am deeply con scious of the favourable opinion you seem good enough to hold of me.' With the saddest, gravest face he took her hand. ' I am yours, if you will have me. If you will be my wife, I shall offer you gratitude •if it is out of my power to give more — you are so kind, you may perhaps forgive it. I cannot deceive you, but I can assure you that I have no other wishes — hopes.' Here he stopped, and his eyes fell, not through any deception, but in a deep weariness of all things. Blushing and sparkling, Hariot dried her eyes, hastily told him that she adored him, had her hand kissed, and then ran away to tell ber grandpapa, the house keeper, the coachman, and the housemaid who waited on her that she was going to be married. ' I never saw a young lady so pleased with herself,' remarked the housekeeper ; ' natural enough too when she's got such a lordly gentleman.' ' Why, I wonder, did the fellow make such a clumsy business of it ?' meditated Marius. ' Through my lungs fairly— and all would have been over. Pshaw ! I was forgetting my father.'

Chapter II

The Highmeadow travelling-carriage — empty — with Thomas driving, one man beside him, and another pounding along on a cart-horse by his side, was trundling along the road just outside the west gate of Gloucester early in June, and half-way through the afternoon. ' Hi, you ! are you Mr. Bostock's ser vant ?' called a peremptory voice. The rider drew rein and touched his hat to a clerical gentleman, in a large wig, shovel hat, and cassock, who was jogging along on a bony, but strong-looking horse. ' Well, I was riding this way, so I prom ised to bring a message from a young lady at my inn. She says she left her dressingcase in the carriage which brought her here this morning, and you are to ride after it as hard as you can go. She thinks you will be sure to come up to it. When you have the box, you are to go straight with it to Highmeadow, and mind, take care of it.' The clerical gentleman waved him off, and spoke a word or two to Thomas, ou the box, who turned fiery red, and drove on, witb one terrified glance at the respect able stranger. ' All right, Tim,' he called out, at least the servant swore he did, and Thomas swore his ears must have deceived him.

The clerical gentleman was standing at the inn door when tbe carriage drew up. ' Ha, I suspect that is for the young lady above stairs, ma'am,' he said to the landlady, who was in tbe bar. ' It looks to me uncommon like the carriage of a very old friend of mine — Mr. Bostock's, of Highmeadow, I protest ! Ma'am, kindly take up a bottle of good Madeira and tell the young lady that the Reverend Joshua Pearce, an old Oxford friend of her papa's — or uncle, as the case may be — wishes to wait on her.' At this moment Laura's maid came down to ask Thomas if they were to start at once, or to sleep the night at Gloucester. Tbe gentleman in wig and cassock made some sign to old Thomas, who, turning his back on the woman, and tightening a strap, replied tbat the sooner they got off the better. 1 A personable damsel,' observed his reverence, audibly, as he followed the maid upstairs. ' A disagreeable person,' thought Laura, as she responded to the pompous greeting of the stranger, and noticed his veiled eyes peering through tortoise-shell specta cles, and the ill-shaven, heavy penthouse of his upper lip.

After a few words about Mr. Bostock, and particular inquiry after General Newell and his family, Mr. Pearce said that be was bound for a village on tbe road to Mitcheldene, and that it would be a great accommodation to bim if she would give him a seat in her carriage. He observed that it would not only save a poor parson's pocket, but that be had heard sad tales of doings on these country roads lately, and thought the larger the party the safer for all. Reluctant as Laura was to consent, she felt that sbe could not forgive herself if she refused the request. Then the reverend gentleman asked to be allowed the honour of drinking a toast with ber to his good friend Bostock, and to their pros perous journey, which, of course, she could not refuse. He opened the bottle of Madeira which had been placed with glasses on a table in a window, poured some carefully out, and offered it to Laura, and, with her permission, to the maid, drank off a glass himself, and re-com menced thanking her for her obligingness, and sending message to his old college friend. ' I apprehend that we shall be starting immediately now,' he remarked, applying himself to finishing the bottle of Madeira.