riding-habit and hat, Mistress Forrester wasat the door, was helped into the saddle by her son, and the littlecavalcade was on its way back through the dark lanes, and over thestretch of moor.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
HOW SCARLETT VISITED HIS MOTHER.
"Oh, mother darling, how shocking it all seems!" said Lil, after a longburst of weeping, as she knelt by her mother in the darkness of theirown chamber that dreary night.
"Yes, yes, my child; but we must be patient and wait."
"But it seems so terrible. These men here--our dear old home full ofsoldiers, and poor father and Scar--"
"Hush, hush, my darling!" whispered Lady Markham. "You do not know whatpain you are giving me. Heaven's will be done, my child. Let us prayfor the safety of those we love."
She softly sank upon her knees beside her child in the darkness of thesombre chamber, and through a broken casement the bright starlight shonedown, shedding sufficient lustre to show the two upturned faces withtheir closed eyes.
The trampling and bustle had gradually died out. The loud orders andbuzz of talking had ceased by degrees, and now the silence of the nightwas only broken by the impatient stamp of a horse, the regular tramp ofarmed sentries, and from time to time a low firm challenge.
Some time before Lady Markham's attention had been drawn by Lil to thegathering of a little detachment of horsemen, and she had recognised thevoice of him who gave the order to advance, while from the open window,themselves unseen, they had watched the faint gleam of the men'sbreastplates, as they rode down the avenue, to be seen afterwards like afaint moving shadow on the banks of the lake before they disappeared.
Then all was still. The frightened servants had gathered, as it were,under the wings of their mistress, and two of them were occupying theinner room--Lil's, and had sobbed themselves to sleep.
"But you will not go to bed, mother?" Lil had whispered.
"No, my child; I will sit up, and watch by you."
"But I could not sleep, mother," said Lil; and the result was that theywere keeping vigil, and sank at last in prayer for those in danger faraway.
How still it all seemed as Lady Markham rose from her knees at last, andwent with Lil to the open window, where they seated themselves to lookout at the darkened landscape, and the faint glimmer of the starreflections in the lake.
They felt calm now and refreshed, but neither spoke. It was as if theywere unconsciously waiting for something--they knew not what, butsomething that was to happen before long--and in which they were to playsome part.
Tramp, tramp! tramp, tramp! on the terrace; and tramp, tramp the sentry,whose post was from the porch right into the great oaken-panelled halland back.
The weary troopers were asleep, and the stillness of the oldwest-country home was oppressive, not a sound coming now from theundulating moorland stretching to the sea. For there is a grandsolemnity at such times in the wild open country, away from busy towns,and when the sentry by the porch let his thoughts stray back to the daysof peace, and some merry-making in the village from which he came, andbegan to hum gently to himself the air of an old ballad, it sounded sostrange that he stopped short, shifted his heavy gun, and continued histramp in silence.
He had just reached the front of the great stone porch, and was gazingout across the park, and then to right and left, before turning toresume his march right up the hall to the back, when--
_C-r-r-rack_!
The man turned sharply, brought his clumsy piece to the present, andstood listening and gazing before him into the dark hall.
Not another sound.
Should he fire and give the alarm?
What for? It was not likely that danger would come from within. Itcould not. The place was too well guarded on all sides. Besides, if hefired and gave an alarm that turned out to be false, there would be asevere reprimand from the officers, and a long course of ridicule andannoyance from the men.
Shifting his piece once more, the sentry stood listening for a fewminutes, and then drawing his sword, he walked boldly into the darkhall, looking to right and left, then along all the sides, and ended bystanding at the foot of the stairs, gazing up at the gallery whichcrossed the end, and went right and left into the two wings of the greathouse, where the rooms were occupied by the officers and men.
"Wonder whether one of the officers did that to see if I was on thelook-out?" thought the man. "If he did, and he only came within reach,I'd let him see that I'm wideawake."
He stood, with his sword drawn, looking up that staircase for quite fiveminutes, but there was not a sound, and gloomy as the hall was by day,with its narrow stained-glass windows, it was almost blackness itself bynight.
"Something must have fallen," thought the sentry at last, as he recalledseeing, by a light carried by one of the officers as he went upstairs,that the walls were ornamented with trophies of old weapons.
"Yes; something must have tumbled down," he said again, as he returnedhis sword to its sheath, changed his piece to its old position, andfaced round and marched toward the door.
As he did so, something--not the something which the sentry said hadfallen down, but another something which had lain at full length in thetop stair but one--moved gently. There was a faint gliding sound, andthen perfect stillness, as the sentry marched in again right to the footof the stairs and listened.
He turned, walked right round the hall, and out once more to the frontof the porch, while something long and soft seemed in the darkness torise out of the top stair but one, as from a long box, on to the stairbelow.
The sentry marched in again, slowly and steadily, right to the end ofthe hall, and back to the front of the porch; and as he went the glidingsound was heard again, followed during the next march back by a veryfaint crack, and then for quite five minutes the long, soft-lookingfigure lay on the stair motionless.
Then, when the sentry was tramping along the porch, the figure gave aquick writhe and lay still a step higher.
Again, when the sentry was his farthest, there was another writhe, andthe figure was on the top of the stairs, to roll by degrees gently overand over across the landing, and lie close to the panelled wall. Thenbegan a slow crawling motion as if some hugely thick short serpent werecreeping along the polished oaken boards almost without a sound, tillthe end of the gallery was reached. Then all was still but the regulartramp of the sentry, who told himself that he had done wisely in notgiving the alarm.
Not the first man who has congratulated himself upon making a greatmistake.
Meanwhile, Lady Markham was seated at the window, with Lil's handclasped in hers, waiting, as it were, for that something which seemed asif it would happen. No great wonder, at a time when change succeededchange with marvellous rapidity. They had neither of them spoke forsome time, till suddenly Lil pressed her mother's hand.
"What is it, dear?"
"Listen!"
Lady Markham bent forward, and remained silent for some minutes beforesaying--
"I heard nothing, Lil."
"I thought I heard horses a long way off. Oh!"
She started violently, for there was a sharp, but faint tap on the panelof the door, as if some one had sharply loosened one finger-nail withthe other.
Neither stirred for a few moments, and then the sharp cracking sound wasrepeated.
Lady Markham did not hesitate, but walked across to the door.
"Who is there?" she said in a low, firm voice.
There was a faint rustle, as of some one moving a hand over the dooroutside, and then from low down came a low--
"Hist!"
It was from the keyhole without a doubt, and stooping, Lady Markhamrepeated her question, placing her ear close to the keyhole, as shelistened for the answer.
That reply sent the blood thrilling through her veins, as it waswhispered through the keyhole, and for the moment, she felt giddy withanguish, love, and fear.
It came again, with an addition.
"Mother! Open! Quick!"
With her hands trembling so that they almost refused their office, sheturned the key, felt a strong grasp on the handle, the door was thrustopen softly, closed, and locked, as she stood trembling there, and apair of arms were clasped around her neck.
"Mother, dearest mother!"
"Scar, dear Scar, me too," whispered Lil, for Lady Markham wasspeechless with emotion.
Brother and sister were locked in a loving embrace, and then Lil shrankaway.
"Scar," she whispered; "why you are all wet."
"Yes," he said, with a half-laugh. "I had to swim across part of thelake."
"Oh, my boy, my boy, how did you get here?" whispered Lady Markham.
"Oh, I found a way, mother dear."
"But your father? Oh! There is no bad news?"
"No, no; don't tremble so. He is quite well, and not many miles away."
"Thank Heaven!" she sighed; "but,