*CHAPTER VIII.*
*A STARTLING DISCOVERY.*
As Grey Dumaresq drifted downstream with the tide that sunny Julymorning, he felt as though something new and wonderful had come into hislife, as though some great and marvellous change had fallen upon him,which, for good or ill, must leave its mark upon his life.
He did not try to analyze the strange feelings which possessed him. Fora time he did not even consciously think. He seemed to be driftingalong a shining pathway--drifting, he scarce knew whither, and did notcare to ask. His heart was strangely heavy, and yet strangely light. Acurious loathing and shame at himself was blended with a sense ofexultant triumph, which held him in a mood of ecstasy. For a long whilehe drifted onwards, scarce thinking or knowing whither he went, till asudden consciousness that he was passing Lord Sandford's house broughthim to himself with a sense of shock. He had left that house only twohours before; yet it might have been as many years that had rolled overhis head, so different were his feelings, so changed was his outlookupon life.
He moored his boat, and went up to his room. Before long he would beexpected to drink coffee or chocolate at his friend's levee, meet allthose of his comrades who had energy to pay their customary _devoirs_ totheir patron, and discuss the plans for the ensuing day and night. Greydashed some cold water over his hot head, and sat down to think.
What would Lord Sandford say if he suddenly expressed his intention ofgiving up gambling in all its many insidious forms, in order to enterupon a life totally different from that of the past weeks? It was not asthough he had any alternative plan to unfold to him. He was as ignoranthow his fortune was to be made now, after several weeks in gay Londontown, as he had been on his first approach to that city. He couldalmost hear the great guffaw of laughter with which Lord Sandford wouldgreet his confession. He half feared the powerful personality and theimperious temper of the man who had been a good friend to him, and whohad the reputation of being a dangerous enemy when his will was crossed.Grey knew that this man liked him--went near to loving him--would noteasily let him go. He knew that he would appear both ungrateful andcapricious; and the young man writhed at the thought of seeming eitherthe one or the other. But yet he must break away. Pacing up and downthe room, he seemed to see the soft earnest eyes of the Lady Geraldinebent upon him. He had pledged his word to her, and in spirit to hisdead mother. From that pledge there was no drawing back. Yet how couldthe break best be made?
He thought over the engagements already entered into. Was it needfulthat these should be kept? He thought not--at least not those which werebut promises to meet at such and such clubs or coffee-houses for thepurposes of card-playing and similar recreations. But there was oneengagement that Grey did not see his way honourably to break. He hadpromised to ride Don Carlos the following Saturday in a course againstthree other picked horses, and heavy wagers, he knew, had been laid uponor against his steed. This engagement he felt he could not break; butthe rest he would. He might even make the excuse that Don Carlos wantedattention, and that he was going to take him into the country forpurposes of training; and, once away from Sandford House, he ought to beable to pen a letter to the master which might excuse his return, andexplain the nature of the change which had come over him.
Yes, that would be the way. He would not go open-mouthed to him thismorning, to be perhaps scoffed or cajoled into some rash compromise.Grey knew that his ability to see both sides of a question often led himinto difficulties and the appearance of vacillation. Surely he couldkeep his pledge if he made the break with a certain diplomatic skill.Not only would it be easier to himself, but it might prove the safermethod also.
When he saw Lord Sandford in the midst of his friends, laughing at thelast bit of scandal, passing jokes over the latest repartee of theredoubtable Duchess of Marlborough to the meek Queen, discussing therivalries of the ministers, and the other rivalries (to them moreimportant) of the reigning beauties of the gay world, Grey felt that itwould indeed be impossible to speak in this company of any of thosethings which were in his mind. He contented himself by standing aloof,looking out of the window and sipping his chocolate, whilst the gayflood of talk surged around him, and he caught a word here and a phrasethere, but always heard when Lord Sandford's resonant tones dominatedthose of all others.
"Talk of rival beauties; we shall see sport to-night. Lady Romaine andLady Saltire--dearest friends and dearest foes--are to go to VauxhallGardens to-night, each in a new toilet specially designed and orderedfor the occasion. It will be a ladies' battle, in very truth; andpublic opinion must needs decide which of the rival queens is fairest tolook upon. I have promised both the dear creatures to be there, to givemy admiration to both alike. Shall I risk the undying enmity of eitherby giving the palm to one? No such fool, gentlemen--no such fool isSandford. I vow I will have ready such a pretty speech or couplet foreach that she shall go away with a better opinion of me than ever! Ha,ha, ha! I love to see the pretty dears, tricked out in their finery,and ready to tear each other's eyes out! So, gentlemen, I cancel allprevious engagements for to-night. I am for Vauxhall, and Heaven onlyknows how late we shall be detained there by the battle of beauty."
"We will all be there!" cried the young bloods, who were at all timesready to follow Lord Sandford to whatever place of entertainment heelected to go; and one voice followed with a laughing question,--
"Will the snow maiden be there in the train of her mother?"
Grey felt himself start, and was glad his face was turned away. Hewould not for worlds that the sharp mocking eyes of Lord Sandford shouldsee him at this moment, albeit he had no notion of any sort that he hadspecial interest in his spotless Lady Geraldine.
He stood quite still to watch Lord Sandford lead away thefair Geraldine (page 155).]
"I trow so," was the carelessly-spoken reply of Lord Sandford, as headjusted his wig and suffered his valet to spray some delicate perfumeover his person, as a finishing touch to his toilet. "The LadyGeraldine is no longer to lead the life of a nun. It has been decreedthat she is to show her lovely face abroad, and add thereby a lustre toher mother's charms."
"A lustre her ladyship would well dispense with," laughed another. "Shewould sooner pose as the stepmother than the mother of a grown-updaughter--ha, ha! How comes it that this young beauty hath never beenshown before to the world? Other damsels make their _debut_ at sixteen;but the Lady Geraldine can scarce be less than twenty, and has thedignity of matronhood."
"A vast deal more dignity than the most part of our matrons do showforth," spoke Lord Sandford incisively. "Doubtless she learned it fromher grandam, her mother's mother and her father's aunt; for my Lord andmy Lady Romaine are cousins, and Mrs. Adair was trusted and revered byboth. Young children are in the way of such gay ladies of fashion,wherefore the babe was sent to its grandam, and remained with her tillthe virtuous and discreet old lady died, having bequeathed her store ofwisdom and discretion to the beautiful maid she had reared."
"And her fortune too," sniggered one gay dandy. "Do not forget thatitem, my lord. It is whispered that it will make the biggest of hercharms. What is the figure? Doth anybody know?"
All disclaimed any precise information, and Lord Sandford spoke no word;his brow was slightly furrowed, and there was a subdued gleam in his eyewhich warned those who saw it that something in the conversation was notto his mind. They therefore hastened to change it, and many of themsaid adieu and sauntered away. Only a small knot remained with theirpatron, discussing the plans for the day; and Grey stood still in theembrasure of the window, his heart still beating with curious violenceand rapidity. When those men were speaking of Geraldine, he had scarcebeen able to keep his fingers from their throats. What business hadthey taking her pure name upon their lips? And why had they spoken ofher fortune? Could it be true that she was so great an heiress? Hehated to believe it; yet what was it to him? He was wakened from hisreverie by a quick question from
Lord Sandford, which he heard asthrough the mists of a dream, and answered,--
"'Tis true I am not quite myself. I slept not at all last night, andhave been on the river well-nigh since sunrise to rid me of the vapours.Methinks I will seek some sleep in mine own rooms ere night. Reckon noton me for to-day's pastime."
"Ay, you have the air of a man squeamish and in need of rest. Go getthee a good sleep, friend Grey, for we must keep you in fettle for thematch on Saturday. Man and beast must come to the field strong androbust, with nerve and wind and muscle true and taut. But you must makeone of our party to Vauxhall to-night. There will be many bright eyeson the lookout for the gay cavalier, as the ladies call you for yourlove-locks. You must not fail us there."
For a moment Grey hesitated, prudence and passion fighting together formastery. But the overwhelming desire to see Geraldine again--perhaps tospeak a word of farewell--overcame him, and he answered briefly as hestrolled through the room on his way out,--
"I shall be ready enough for that; you can reckon on me."
How the day passed Grey never knew, and it was still broad daylight whenhe and his comrades started for the gardens of Vauxhall, where it wasthe fashion to spend the evening hours when nothing more attractiveoffered, and where such music and such illuminations as the times had tooffer were to be enjoyed, and where ladies and their attendant beauxfluttered about like so many gay butterflies, and found opportunity asthe dusk fell for walks and talks of a more private nature in the boskyalleys and shady paths than they could hope to gain in crowded routs andcard-parties. Supper could be obtained too, and pleasant little partiesmade up; and the fashionable world found it agreeable on these hotsummer nights to take their pleasure out in the open air.
Grey detached himself from his friends upon the first opportunity, andwandered alone through the gardens, avoiding encounters with persons heknew, though often accosted with laugh and jest and challenge by maskedladies, or young bloods eager to make friends with one whose face andfigure began to be known, owing to his successes in horsemanship withDon Carlos, and his friendship with Lord Sandford. But Grey made smallresponse to overtures, quickly shook himself free, and pursued hissolitary ramble, till at length a sound of gay voices, laughter, andalmost uproarious mirth, in which the tones of Lord Sandford couldplainly be heard, drew him to a wide open space where an illuminatedfountain seemed to have drawn a great concourse of people; and there,amid a tossing crowd of gaudy gallants, and ladies with towering heads,mincing, giggling, uttering little shrieks, little jests, or playing offan infinitude of coquetries and artifices to attract admiration, hebeheld the stately white-robed figure around which his thoughts andfancies had been playing all through the long hours of the day.
He saw not the rival queens of beauty in their gorgeous apparel. He sawnot the surging crowd that eddied around them, appraising, flattering,admiring, laughing. He only saw one white figure, standing aloof andfor the moment alone, the moonbeams glimmering upon the shiningwhiteness of her dress, the fair face bent, as though in some sort ofsorrow or shame. He saw it, and he was instantly at her side.
Whether or not he spoke, he knew not. He offered his arm, and the nextmoment he was leading her away from that giddy, mocking crowd; and hefelt the clinging clasp of her fingers thrilling him to his heart'score. He heard the breath of relief as the chorus of flippant merrimentdied away in the distance. He paused, and a quick exclamation escapedhis lips.
"This is no place for you, Lady Geraldine. Why do they bring youhither?"
She answered not, but turned her gaze for a moment towards him, and thendropped her eyes. With an impulse for which he could not account, hecovered the fingers which lay upon his arm with his own disengaged hand,and passionate words sprang to his lips.
"Give me only the right, fair lady, and I will save you from them all.I ask only to live and die as your knight--your champion--withoutwages--without reward!"
Then he was silent. His breath came thick and fast. He felt the quiverof the hand he held. He knew not how long the silence lasted, it was sostrangely sweet, so full of mysterious meaning.
"I thank you, sir. I trow that you speak truth, and that your words arenot idle froth--gone in a moment--as the words of so many of yondergallants. But it may not be. I may not give you such a right. A maidenis not free to choose her friends; and the knights of chivalry are longsince vanished from the earth. I would that I might call you friend,that sometimes we might meet and hold converse together. I trust that Imay learn a good report of you, that one day I may speak with pride ofhaving known you in your youth. But that must suffice us. Let it beenough for both. I may not--"
She hesitated, and her voice died into silence. She spoke with arepressed emotion which he scarcely understood. The tumult of his ownheart was such that he could not seek to gauge the depths of herfeelings.
"If I may not be your knight, let me at least be your friend--yourservant!" he pleaded. "And if there is anything wherein I can serveyou--"
She seemed struck by the phrase. She lifted her bent head and gazedearnestly at him; but the words she spoke seemed strange.
"You are the friend of Lord Sandford; is it not so?"
"I have been his comrade these many weeks. He has shown me muchkindness and good-fellowship. I owe him gratitude."
"And you must know him well, I doubt not. Tell me, Sir Grey--and I prayyou deceive me not--what kind of a man is this same Lord Sandford? Ishe leal and true, faithful, loving, and loyal? Is he better than thecrowd who follow at his heels and ape his manners, use his name as awatchword, and fawn upon his favour? Tell me, what think you of him? Afriend must needs speak sooth."
"Lady, you have asked a hard question, inasmuch as I know but little ofthe man, albeit I have lived with him above a month. He attracts me,and yet there be moments when he repels me too. He is a good friend--Iwould not speak a word against him; yet it is said that he can be abitter and an unscrupulous enemy; and those who have lost his favourwithdraw themselves as speedily as possible from his notice, fearfullest some evil may befall them."
"Is he then cruel and rancorous?"
"I can believe that he might be, were his passions roused. He has thatforceful nature which tends to vehement liking and bitter hatred. Ihave experienced the one; I have not tasted of the other. For the rest,he is a man of parts, and can do all well to which he puts his hand.Methinks he would be strong enough to break off his reckless and vicioushabits, had he but motive sufficient to make him! desire to do so. Butfor the nonce he floats with the current, and lives as the world lives.More I cannot say."
At that moment a swift, firm tread was heard approaching along the dimalley; and Geraldine looked hastily round, her hand dropping from Grey'sarm.
"It is he!" she whispered, and there was a catch in her voice which theyoung man heard without understanding. He faced round, and beheld thetowering figure of Lord Sandford beside them.
"Well chanced upon!" quoth he in his resonant tones. "I was sent byyour mother in search of you, Lady Geraldine. The court of beauty hassat. To her has been adjudged the prize. She now desires the presenceof her daughter, to share her triumph. We shall sup anon, and the tablewill not be complete without one gracious and lovely presence. LadyGeraldine, honour me by accepting my escort.--Grey, will you join us?"
He spoke the last words over his shoulder, and there was a note in hisvoice which the young man had never heard before, and which he did notfully understand. It seemed to sting him, but he knew not why.
"I thank you--no," he answered. "I am going home."
And then he stood quite still to watch Lord Sandford lead away the fairGeraldine, who threw him one strange, half-appealing glance over hershoulder, but spoke no word of farewell.
Grey had meant to go home, but somehow he could not bring himself to doso. His brain seemed on fire, and his heart with it. He knew not whatailed him, but a fever was consuming him. He left the gardens, butwalked on and on, not knowing or caring whither he
went. The night wasfar spent, and the dawn was beginning to blush in the eastern sky,before he found himself in the region of Sandford House again.
The place was still and deserted. The revellers and roisterers seemedall at home. A watchman dozed at his post, thankful for the peace ofthe streets, and Grey met no interruption, till suddenly, round acorner, he came face to face with his host, who gave him a look, uttereda short laugh, and linked his arm within his.
"Well met, friend Grey! You too have had no desire to woo the somnolentgod? We find metal more attractive elsewhere. Say now, what think youof the future Lady Sandford? Methought you had eyes but for herto-night. Will she not queen it right royally here--the beautifulstately creature? You have taste, Grey, and I am well pleased that youhave. Those painted, patched, and powdered Jezebels, smirking andogling and running all over the town for the adulation of the crowd, areas little to your mind as to mine. We can flatter and fool and makemock with the best; but when it comes to marriage! Faugh! one's soulsickens at the thought. What man in his senses would trust hishappiness or his honour in the hands of that tawdry crew? Gilt andtinsel do very well to play with; but when one desires to purchase, oneasks for gold."
Grey's heart seemed to stand still within him. He felt growing numb andcold. As they passed beneath the gateway, and the lamp shone upon hisface, Lord Sandford saw that it was white as death, and a strange gleamcame into his own eyes.
"Come, my friend, you do not answer. What think you of the wife that Ihave chosen? What think you of the Lady Geraldine Adair? Is she not amatchless creature? Who would have believed such a sport could comefrom such a tree?"
Grey commanded himself by a great effort.
"Is the Lady Geraldine Adair, then, your affianced wife?"
"That, or next door to it. My suit is approved of her parents. Weshall be betrothed ere long. I thought you might be learning as muchfrom her own lips to-night. Did I not hear my name pass between youtwain?"
"She did ask some question anent you," answered Grey, who had no desireto fence or parry--he felt too stunned and bewildered; "but she spokenot of any troth-plight. Why should she?"
"True, why should she? She is not one of your empty-headed chatterers.She wears not her heart upon her sleeve. And your acquaintance is ofthe slightest; is it not so? Have you met before, since that evening inthe water theatre when I did first present you to each other?"
"I have seen her but once between," answered Grey, still in the samequiet, stunned fashion; and when they had entered the house, he madeexcuse to go at once to his room, declining all proffer of refreshmentor further converse.
Lord Sandford looked after him with an intent look upon his face, whichslowly clouded over, till there was something almost malignant andferocious in his aspect.
"So it is as I thought. He has been hit, and hard hit. Where can hehave seen her in the interim? They would not have been standing thus,talking thus, if some bond had not been established between them. Yet Ithought I had kept an eye upon him. I knew there might be danger. Isaw it the first moment that they met. There is something akin in theirnatures. They feel it themselves. Hr-r-r-rr! that must be put a stopto. I will have no rival in Geraldine's heart. She does not love meyet; but she fears me a little, and she thinks of me. That is no badbasis to build upon. I shall win her yet, if I have a fair field. Buta rival--no, that must not be! And yet I read somewhat in her eyesto-night which had not been there before. The fiend take all falsefriends! I must rid myself of this one, and that speedily. I haveliked him; but he shall not stand in my way. Well, 'tis I have madehim: I can quickly unmake him. Let me but think of the way and themeans. Grey Dumaresq, you are a pretty fellow and a pleasant comrade;but you shall never be suffered to stand in the light of Sandford'shopes and plans and desires. Look to yourself, my friend; for evil isabroad for you!"