For Somebody's Sake. A novel

Front matter

H IKlovel. r.T EDITH STEAVART DREWRY, AUTHOR OF "ON DANGEROUS GROUND." "ONLY AN ACTRESS,' " BAPTISED WITH A CURSE." &c, &c. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: F. V. WHITE & CO., 31, SOUTHAMPTON STEEET, STRAND, W.C. 1890. PRINTED BY KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, AND KINOSTON-ON-THAME9. CONTENTS. CHAP. PA8E I. — " The Bite op the Asp " . . . 1 II. — " Playing with Fire "... 8 III. — "A Duet for Violin and Piano" . 24 IV.— "Blind, Blind, Blind! " . . 40 V. — " Betrothal " 48 VI. — " Crossing the Rubicon " . . 56 VIT. — "Till Death us do Part" . . 64 VIII. — "Countess of Ernescliffe"' . . 72 IX. — "A Mad Resolve" .... 85 X. — "A Forced Interview ' . . . 93 XI.— "Et tu Brute?" .... 100 XII. — "Separation". ■ 111 XIII. — "After that Interview" . . . 115 XIV.— "A Grim Warfare" . . . 127 XV.—" Marius " 133 XVI — " Heavy Shackles Broken " . 145 XVII. — "He was Dead and is Alive again". 154 XVIII. — "Watching from Redcliffe Point" 178 XIX. — "Whereas I was Blind, now I See'* 185 XX. — "They Twain shall be One Flesh " 195 XXI.— " A Dark Story " . . . .211 XXII. — " Like Music on the Water " . fOPULAR JnEW JMOVELS.

Now Ready, in One Vol., the Seventh Edition of ARMY SOCIETY ; or, Life in a Garrison Town. By JOHN STRANGE Winter. Author of "Booties' Baby." Cloth gilt, 6s. ; also picture boards, Is. Also, now Ready, in Cloth Gilt, Is. Ud. each. GARRISON GOSSIP, Gathered in Blankbampton. By JOHN Strange Winter. Also picture boards, 2s. A SIEGE BABY. By the same Author. Also picture boards, '2s. BEAUTIFUL JIM. By the same AUTHOR. BY WOMAN'S WIT. By Mrs. ALEXANDER, Author of "The Wooing O't." Also picture boards, 2s. MONA'S CHOICE. By the same Author. Also picture boards, 2*. A LIFE INTEREST. By the same AUTHOR. KILLED IN THE OPEN. By Mrs. EDWARD KENNARD. Also picture boards, 25. THE GIRL IN THE BROWN HABIT. A Sporting Novel. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. A REAL GOOD THING. By the same AUTHOR.

Also picture boards, 2s. A CRACK COUNTY. By the same AUTHOR. STRAIGHT AS A DIE. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. OUR FRIENDS IN THE HUNTING FIELD, By the tame AUTHOR. TWILIGHT TALES. By the same AUTHOR. Illustrated. IN A GRASS COUNTRY. By Mrs. H. LOVETT-CAMERON. Also picture boards, 2s. A DEVOUT LOVER. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. THE COST OF A LIE. By the same AUTHOR. THIS WICKED WORLD. By the same AUTHOR. THE OUTSIDER. By Hawley Smaht. Also picture boards, 2s. THE MASTER OF RATHKELLY. By the same A UTHOR. SHE CAME BETWEEN. By Mrs. ALEXANDER FRASER. DAUGHTERS OF BELGRAVIA. By the same AUTHOR. THE CRUSADE OF THE " EXCELSIOR." By BRET HARTE. Also picture boards, 2s. CURB AND SNAFFLE. By SIR RANDAL H. ROBERTS, Bart. DREAM FACES. By THE HONBLE. MRS. FETHERSTONHAUGH.

Chapter I

" THE BITE OF THE ASP." When we have reached thirty or forty and known a great deal of trouble — and how very few reach even the third decade without that experience in one shape or another ? — we get so used to it that nothing comes with a shock ; it is not that the pain is less, nay rather it is deepened as each added weight lessens the mental spring and power to rebound, but we take trouble as the matter of-course, as our normal, not abnormal, condition ; we look for nothing else, expect nothing else, and if much time goes by with out the cloud, feel something of a grim wonder, and even perhaps a vague dread that vol. in. the longer respite will be more than made up for. But with young people it is quite different. As a rule they know nothing of life's real trials and troubles, and their few clouds are light and evanescent, so that to them the first real trouble, take what form it may, comes with bewildering force, like a sudden, crushing blow, under which at first they stagger.

Victorine St. Maur was only twenty, and after all what, till now, had her life been but an almost cloudless one ? Now trouble came in two very dark forms, one of which she could face and recognise, the other of which she could neither recognise nor face. For the first she was disappointed, painfully disappointed, in this adopted brother she loved so fondly. He had weakly followed where another led and sunk into a gambler ; she had always despised a gambler, and was impatient and intolerant of weakness, a failing so absolutely opposed to her own powerful character, an intolerance which is a fault "THE BITE OF THE ASP." 3 belonging almost inevitably to a very strong willed, self-reliant nature. And now he had passed all bounds, he had actually ruined himself, or suffered himself to be ruined, and forced to exile himself through his fatally developed propensity ; and Ernescliffe had done this as revenge for what ?

Ah there, with that name, that story told, lay the deadly sting for her, the subtle, poisonous sting of jealousy ; though she knew far too little of her own wild, undisciplined heart to have the least suspicion of the true cause of the tempest of passion and fierce pain that racked her now. She was not, then, as he had vowed to her, the first, last love. Did he dare to think that she would tolerate a rival, a divided empire ? And he must have given, and perhaps still gave, to this woman much more than the transient passion for an ordinary mistress, for him to harbour and carry out such a deliberate revenge, on her account alone, against the man he knew to be so dear to 32* herself — the girl he professed to have loved from childhood, and yet had declared he would sooner lose than give up his revenge.

He would not yield one step or spare Digby even for her sake — then he must care for that revenge and its cause, this mistress, more than for herself, whom he wooed as wife. " I hate Max Darrell ! " came from the passionate lips and haughty, perverse spirit ; but, if that were true, whence came that choking sob and bitter welling tears, whence that gnawing, unrecognised pain at the very bottom of the young, self-blinded heart, that quick vivid recalling before her mental vision of his face, and vague sense — too utterly vague and dim to find the faintest expression in thought or word — of an incongruity somewhere between that face and the story told, between the man and the facts stated ? They were possible, nay, even likely facts, artfully kept within lines of probability, truth and falsehood so cunningly interwoven, that, "THE BITE OF THE ASP." 5 in the dark as she was, it was impossible to dissever them or give a definite room to one definite doubt.

She thought she believed au fond all she had just heard, whereas in truth it was only that she could not see any logical reason to disbelieve Digby. " Challenge every word if you choose," he had said, but how was that possible for her — pride itself forbade it — she had rejected Ernescliffe's love, refused his hand, and therefore she had no right to question his acts regarding another woman ; besides, he would think that she cared for him, was jealous, unwomanly, and the hot flush of haughty anger and shame sprang to her cheek at the mere thought, and yet with that there leaped into life and grew and strengthened with every moment of the storm of conflicting emotions, a wild, desperate desire to re-assert her own power against this imagined rival, to prove her sway, and give back revenge for revenge by bringing Ernescliffe to her feet again.

" I will give him one chance," she said between her teeth, " he shall have somehow one chance to tell — if he can — his side of the miserable story, to retract, explain, re-instate Digby, and if he refuses, then — then I will punish him, I care not at what cost to myself ! He shall have his haughty words to me fulfilled with a vengeance — a wife's hand indeed, but without the heart he vowed he would win, force to be his — never, Max Darrell, never that ! " And then she threw herself on the sofa and broke down into passionate, miserable weeping. Ah ! blind, blind, blind. Digby Arden kept his word and came that afternoon to bid the good-bye for the necessity of which he gave his aunt such a very much lighter reason than the true one. " Outrun the constable a bit, you see, Aunt Lucy, so I'm going to economise abroad for the winter like a good boy," and if Mrs. Arden shrewdly suspected that he was more "THE BITE OF THE ASP." 7 deeply involved than he chose to say, she merely held her peace and accepted his words as they stood.

In her own mind she set down a good deal to that detestable horsey Lady Rob Netherly. And at the very time that same good natured, sonorous-voiced Lady Rob was saying to Ernescliffe : " So I hear that poor Digby Arden has gone abroad — run his tether for a bit. Jove ! I'm awfully sorry — thought he was going the pace, hand over fist, last season, you know, and those Latouches, eh ! Wonder what Vivie says to it all ; have you seen her to-day my dear fellow ? " "No, but I probably shall to-morrow morning," said Max quietly, " I must return her some music of hers which I have." And true enough the next morning, at the hour when he knew she would be alone in the music room, Lord Ernescliffe knocked at the door of No. — Park Lane.

Chapter II

" PLAYING WITH FIRE." When heart and brain are like a whirlpool of turbid waters they must almost of necessity find some vent in physical movement or exercise, and there was a world of meaning in the way that Victorine's fingers were flying over the keys of her piano in a rhapsodie of Liszt's, when the Earl of Ernescliffe was announced at the door. She did not hear the name nor the visitor's entrance, and reached the end of the piece before she became conscious of another presence, then she sprang to her feet with a startled exclamation of haughty surprise. " Lord Ernescliffe ! you here ! " "Forgive me, Miss St. Maur," he said gently, but quietly ignoring the indignation of her tone, " but as I saw you did not hear my entrance I could not disturb you till Liszt was ended. I ventured to call now because I knew I should find you alone."

She only bowed, and the Earl, lifting his eyes straight to hers, added : " You have seen your cousin before he left England and heard from him his own explanation of that departure, I see that by your manner to me." She flushed for a moment and a music stand near, on which she had laid her hand, quivered under her grasp, as in her answer she set her foot at once on the path she had resolved to tread. " I have seen Digby, and learned from him that you have dragged him down, down to this misery and ruin in deliberate, pitiless revenge for some quarrel of years ago ; a wrong which you mistakenly believed he had done you ! " " Mistakenly believed ! " said Ernescliffe, — for one second he had almost lost the reins over self — the next there was an instant breath of relief, Arden then had plainly told Victorine this falsehood and had not dared to even approach the truth.

She saw both the fierce passion arrested and the relief, and gave to both her own interpretation ; he thought, as she had meant him to think at present, that Digby had not told her the actual story of the quarrel in detail. " So be it, then," he said, folding his arms across his breast ; " but in common justice give me credit, at least, for that belief in the reality of the wrong done." " I give you that credit, but it is scarcely possible — it is not possible, placed as you are — that Digby can have done you any wrong that can merit or justify the terrible revenge you have taken." Cecil's brother was silent. If he had sinned in taking vengeance into his own hands, was not the anguish of these moments a punishment, perhaps some expiation ? But he made no sign ; only stood with downcast eyes, and every line about the firm lips settled into stern endurance and pain.

Then Victorine broke that pause almost abruptly : " As Digby's sister, will you offer me an attempt at justification — some explana tion ? " Max looked up now into the face he loved so well, and the one word that fell was as sorrowful as it was steady : " No." Unconsciously all through the girl had been fighting for hardness, fighting against his subtle influence and her own better nature. Angry with herself and him that somehow she could not turn upon him for that answer as she wished, she walked to the end of the room and back twice, then paused a step nearer to Max than she had been before. "You flung down the gauntlet, Lord Ernes cliffe. On what ground, then, are you and I to meet in our world ? Is it to be a hollow peace or open war ? " Ernescliffe met her almost defiant gaze with one so searching that hers wavered and her pale cheek flushed a little.

" Must it be either one or the other ? Is there no via media ? Must I always by you be counted entirely in the wrong — always pre condemned because I am Ernest Darrell's son?" There was proud reproach and yet a soft pleading in voice and manner which both stung and touched the girl. She turned half aside. " No," she said, " not pre-condemned. I gave you the chance to explain your cruel, desperate deed, and you refuse it. You condemn yourself. Will you rescind that refusal ? " " No." Victorine faced him again. " Whatever be the cause of quarrel — what ever be the wrong to you of which you believe Digby guilty, will you forgive it now and restore him ? " " Never ! You do not know what you ask. It is torture to me to wound you, but the forgiveness you ask is impossible, even for your dear sake.

For that sake and that alone I offered him terms of mercy, and he refused them. He has made his choice, and on his head be the end. I cannot draw back one step." She stood looking at him with white lips and locked hands pressed hard on her heaving breast. Something in the deep, stern passion of all that answer awed and held in check her own wild conflict of pas sions, even while it forced upon her the con viction that some power stronger than her own swayed him — the woman of Digby's story. " Leave me now," she said unsteadily. " I am miserably bewildered. I cannot see any way in the darkness yet, and I — I suppose that at present we must meet sometimes as usual — outwardly. Let there be a truce, at least." " So be it." Max paused one second, then took both her hands into his own, bent down and kissed them, and went out of the room.

Then the girl struck her hand on the table. " He thinks I do not know the truth, which he dares not tell," she muttered. " He refuses me now, even; he crushes my brother for another woman's sake and will not spare him for mine ! He would give me up for his revenge, he said, but he shall not now to his cost. I hate him — yes, I hate him! and he shall know it too late. How could I ever care for Digby's enemy? " She flung aside a chair that came in her way as she went back to the piano to close it, and the action spoke a volume. Later in the day Mrs. Arden asked her what she meant to do about Christmas, as it was now December, and Victorine answered drearily, with tears in her eyes and voice : " She did not care or know, except that she would not visit at all anywhere. She had not any heart for gaieties and such non sense.

It was a miserable Christmas, and she didn't want to have that perpetual ' happy Christmas ' dinned into her ears." " I am sure I do not, my dear," sighed Aunt Lucy. " How can we be anything but sore-hearted, when dear Digby is in trouble ? Shall we go quietly down to Maur Chase, the week before Christmas, and stop till after New Year's Day, dear ? " " If you like, Auntie — yes, that will do as well as anything : we can go this day fort night." " Very well, then, I'll write to Mrs. Yeo, to that effect. By-the bye, Adelaide called in this morning, while you were practising, and she says that they are going to Ernescliffe Castle — Lady West, of course, to play hostess for the party. " Is it a large party, then ? " asked Vic torine. " I think not. She said that Lord Ernes cliffe only named Sidney Wharton, the Ne therlys, the Athertons, and two or three others, I think — as the house party, I mean.

I do wonder if ever that man means to marry ! " Victorine shrugged her shoulders, with a laugh. " I am not in his secrets, Aunt Lucy ; perhaps he has had a disappointment — ro mantic." " Well," said Mrs. Arden, sedately, " when a man of his rank and wealth remains un married at nearly thirty, one naturally thinks either that it is some disappointment, or, more likely, some mistress who has influence enough to be rival to a wife." " Very likely," said Victorine, carelessly ; " but, as I said, I am not the recipient of Ernescliffe's secrets — especially of that kind — so I can't say. Perhaps, like me, he prefers his freedom and own sweet will." " You — I do believe," said Lucy Arden, with all the emphasis of experience — " that you would have your own will, if you married a man of iron — or went to the scaffold for it — and he is just as bad."

" Thanks, Auntie," laughed Victorine, " I'll tell him your flattering opinion." " Oh, he knows it, my dear ; I've told him so myself ; but I am afraid you are both " " Past praying for, Auntie ? " put in her niece. " Naughty girl — there, go and dress. You said you were going to ride." " So I am — with my dear faithful Sid ; and there is his knock. Please tell him I'll be ready before my horse is at the door to keep him company." And she sprang away — too restless to re main quiet. Besides, she wanted to speak to Sid Wharton. She wanted to find out exactly what the gossip at the clubs was about. Digby's abrupt withdrawal ; especially whe ther there was any public suspicion afloat of the dark charge which he had said his vol. in. enemy had privately made against him. So when they had ridden some distance in a northerly direction, Victorine asked her companion if he had heard much gossip yet about Digby ?

" " Oh, of course, Victorine — any amount of gossip and conjectures as to the extent of his involvements ; it must be pretty bad, they said, for him to give up his chambers, leave his club, and go abroad nobody knows where, and then " he paused. " Go on, Sid," she said, in feverish im patience ; " I want to know all they say." Quick-witted Sidney had been so con stantly with Ernescliffe — and especially at that last night at Latouche's, had noticed Digby Arden, and had a few uncomfortable suspicions himself as to his luck ; but he answered her question. " That Latouche said, with a sneering laugh, that he dared say Arden would turn up at Monte Carlo, as he had been very jucky at play lately. I remarked, with a pretended jest, 'A bit spiteful, eh !' said I — ' You and Carracciolo were hard hit, I expect.' And that's just what it is, Vivie ; fellows like Latouche are sure to throw out ugly hints, when they're bitten by ill luck !

" " Sid, you are a right true friend ! " said the girl, warmly — " and what did Ernescliffe say to Latouche's sneer ? " " I am not sure he heard it ; but he didn't make any remark, if he did." Now she clenched her teeth ; of course, the Earl had not — when he had himself dared to brand her cousin, in private, as an utterly dishonoured gentleman. She turned the sub ject, after that, by asking when he and Sybil were to be married ? " Oh," said Sid, young enough to colour a little, " not till her brother is — quite in the Spring, I believe." " Quite soon enough, too. I hear that you go all three to Ernescliffe for Christmas." 33* " Yes, isn't it jolly of Ernescliffe ? — just like him," said Sid, enthusiastically. " He likes your company as much as you do his, I suppose," said Victorine, drily, and Sid gave her a keen, covert glance.

" Most people like him, I think," he said. " Yes," shrugging her shoulders, " so it seems ; he plays and sings divinely certainly, and I've no doubt has no end of virtues bound up in a very handsome form — gold binding, warranted — as real as the will of iron." " Oh, ho ! my proud, self-willed beauty," thought shrewd Sid, " his has just crossed yours, has it ? Perhaps he has been giving you another slight reminder that he does not mean to take your No for an answer, and 'when Greek meets Greek' — we know; but I'll back him for all that." Aloud he said lightly : "You are sarcastic at poor Ernescliffe's expense ; has he had the misery to offend your highness? Have you quarrelled with your ' piano ' ? " "Bah! no, my dear boy, couldn't quite spare that instrument — it is useful. Come ; let's be off for a gallop here."

And away they went at full speed. Sid saw that she was trying to get away from her self. That fortnight passed, and Victorine and Lord Ernescliffe met naturally enough several times, at mutual friends' or acquaintances' — the Wests', Lady Rob's, and so on, or at a concert or theatre, but Max did not call or drop in at Park Lane, except once or twice at an hour when he knew there would be other visitors, so that there should be no outward sign of " difference." But in her he felt a difference to himself that puzzled him with its waywardness and changes — now haughty, cold as ice, or, with smiling lip, bitterly sarcastic, as if she only endured him near her to stab him — another time, perhaps only a day or two after, greet him with all that sweet grace and witching softness that seemed to tacitly ask pardon for her cruelty — rejected lover though he was ; she tried him terribly that fortnight — " Hoped deferred, doubt depressed, Seeing in part " And he was quite equal to her, and main tained a perfectly even manner to her, far too proud to let her see how she wounded him and racked his heart between hope and fear.

He had kept his vow to his dying mother, to cherish and love his younger brother through life, and make any wrongs to him his own. He had kept the second part of that vow, made to that seemingly dying brother with the added pledge of inviolate secrecy, and now for that vow, that, to him, sacred trust of vengeance justly fulfilled, had he lost — quite lost the one woman he had ever loved ? He asked himself that question as he bade fare well to his idolized brother, he asked it again as he once more crossed the stately threshold of his ancient castle and each time the one passionate, unyielding answer rose up from his very heart, " Never ! — I will never give thee up, my one love ! " "V

Chapter III

" A DUET FOR VIOLIN AND PIANO.' A dreary, miserable, December afternoon, the grey waste of sky laden with snow, like eyes dulled and heavy with unshed tears, that sky stretching away over a leaden, murky sea, whose slow, heaving masses of water were unbroken by white-flecked foam, save where they flung themselves sullenly along the line of coast below the beetling red cliffs, the leafless trees on the wooded heights and dells, reared their bare tops and leafless boughs against the sky, like an army of giant skeletons gibbering and shrieking in the chill wintry blast that crept, moaning, amongst them, and shook the dried-up twigs and leaves that lay here and there on the hard, half-frozen ground, for though Christmas itself had been fine, there had been rain yesterday, and a sharp frost since mid night, and the beautiful mistress of Maur Chase stood at one of the dining-room windows, looking out on the dreary scene, with heart and face as dreary, hardly able to keep the miserable tears out of her eyes, feeling utterly alone, forgotten, restless and reckless.

" I don't care if it does snow, fifty feet deep," she muttered, looking up with a kind of savage defiance of everything in creation, " I will go out." She glanced round at her aunt who was dozing by the sire, said, " I'm going out, Aunt Lucy," and left the room. In a few minutes she left the house, warmly dressed in close-fitting long jacket of rich grey fur, with a fur toque to match, and her bare hands in her pockets ; gloves not being exactly on the spot, my lady walked off with out, she " hated them, and she wouldn't be bothered about such nonsense." As Victorine passed through the lodge gate, the lodge keeper said deprecatingly : " Law, Miss, you surely ain't going out o' your own park this afternoon! Why, it'll be dark afore long, and the snow — it'll snow bad." " I don't care, Mrs. Dean ; I am going over to Redcliffe Point to spin a yarn with old Vosper, if he is on duty.

I am safe enough." And on towards the cliffs went the tall, slight form, with its firm, light tread. Old Vosper, the coastguard officer, was on duty this after noon, and as pleased as he was surprised to see the visitor, who presently made her appearance on the plateau whereon was built the little coastguard station. " Why, bless me, if it ain't young madam herself!" he exclaimed, as she laughed and shook hands with the old man, " but you never were a bit afraid of anything, Miss Victorine." " No," said she, " and there is nothing to be afraid of in this dismal afternoon, except the ' blue devils,' is there ? " " Well, but they're ugly cargo enough, my dear, ain't they ? and the New Year so close." She shivered and gave a dreary look out to sea. What lay in that New Year for her ? " They are a cargo that won't be got rid of just as we like," she said — " what a dirty sky it is.

Ugh ! " " There'll be a bad fall of snow, Miss Vic torine," said the coastguard, " the wind's been chopping every ten minutes, and then the snow will come. Get back home, child, quick." " Oh ! snow won't hurt me," said Victorine, shaking her curly head. "I'm going on, and perhaps back by the beach." " For goodness' sake, my dear, don't be too venturesome, take care of these rocky bye paths, for after yesterday's rain, and the frost, they'll be slippery in parts of 'em, and there's been sort of little landslips here and there on the cliffs, towards the east side of Ernescliffe Park." " I don't mind; I'll take care, so don't be afraid for me, Mr. Vosper," said the girl with a half laugh, " and as to snow — bah ! it may come." She was just in the mood to court rather than avoid danger, she was at war with her self, and therefore at war with all the world, animate and inanimate.

She left the road presently, and took a path which wound about the cliffs, now in descent, now in ascent, behind a promontory, then, outside the face of it, but it was broad and perfectly safe, although in some places it was now slippery, and more than once she had to climb over portions of the rugged cliff that had evidently fallen from above, as Vosper had said ; still in a reckless way the girl went on, despite a few warn ing slakes that fell, now and then ; she had some idea that the wild track led eventually to a road towards the eastern part of Ernes cliffe, from which several return routes diverged. She had just passed through a kind of gorge between two piles of rock, when she heard a crash, almost roar behind her, and, with a start, paused and looked back. Just where the path emerged from the gorge, a mass of rocky substance from above had tumbled down, part pitching far below on to the rocks and beach, but the greater mass lodging on the path, an impass able barrier to any return that way, Victo rine saw at once, and laughed aloud, reck lessly, at the narrowness of her own escape.