VII
THE BLASTED OAK
I had quarrelled with Lisbeth; had quarrelled beyond all hope ofredemption and forgiveness, desperately, irrevocably, and it had allcome about through a handkerchief--Mr. Selwyn's handkerchief.
At a casual glance this may appear all very absurd, not to say petty;but then I have frequently noticed that insignificant things very oftenserve for the foundation of great; and incidentally quite a surprisingnumber of lives have been ruined by a handkerchief.
The circumstances were briefly these: In the first place, I hadreceived the following letter from the Duchess, which had perturbed menot a little:
MY DEAR DICK: I hear that that Agatha Warburton creature has writtenthreatening to cut off our dear Lisbeth with the proverbial shillingunless she complies with her wish and marries Mr. Selwyn within theyear. Did you ever know of anything so disgusting?
If I were Lisbeth, and possessed such a "creature" for an aunt, I'd seeher in Timbuctoo first--I would! But then I forget the poor child hasnothing in the world, and you little more, and "love in a cottage" isall very well, Dick, up to a certain time. Of course, it is all rightin novels but you are neither of you in a novel, and that is the worstof it. If Providence had seen fit to make me Lisbeth's aunt, now,things might have been very different; but alas! it was not to be.Under the circumstances, the best thing you can do, for her sake andyour own, is to turn your back upon Arcadia and try to forget it all assoon as possible in the swirl of London and everyday life.
Yours, CHARLOTTE C.
P.S. Of course, Romance is dead ages and ages ago; still, it reallywould be nice if you could manage to run off with her some fine night!
Thus the fiat had gone forth, the time of waiting was accomplished;to-day Lisbeth must choose between Selwyn and myself.
This thought was in my mind as I strode along the river path, fillingme with that strange exhilaration which comes, I suppose, to most of uswhen we face some climax in our lives.
But now the great question, How would she decide? leaped up and beganto haunt me. Because a woman smiles upon a man, he is surely a mostprodigious fool to flatter himself that she loves him, therefore. Howwould she decide? Nay, indeed; what choice had she between affluenceand penury? Selwyn was wealthy and favoured by her aunt, LadyWarburton, while as for me, my case was altogether the reverse. Andnow I called to mind how Lisbeth had always avoided coming to anyunderstanding with me, putting me off on one pretence or another, butalways with infinite tact. So Fear came to me, and Doubt began to rearits head; my step grew slower and slower, till, reaching the Shrubberygate, I leaned there in doubt whether to proceed or not. Summoning upmy resolution, however, I went on, turning in the direction of theorchard, where I knew she often sat of a morning to read or make apretence of sewing.
I had gone but a little way when I caught sight of two distant figureswalking slowly across the lawn, and recognised Lisbeth and Mr. Selwyn.The sight of him here and at such a time was decidedly unpleasant, andI hurried on, wondering what could have brought him so early.
Beneath Lisbeth's favourite tree, an ancient apple-tree so gnarled andrugged that it seemed to have spent all its days tying itself into allmanner of impossible knots--in the shade of this tree, I say, there wasa rustic seat and table, upon which was a work-basket, a book, and ahandkerchief. It was a large, decidedly masculine handkerchief, and asmy eyes encountered it, by some unfortunate chance I noticed a monogramembroidered in one corner--an extremely neat, precise monogram, withthe letters F. S. I recognised it at once as the property of Mr.Selwyn.
Ordinarily I should have thought nothing of it, but to-day it wasdifferent; for there are times in one's life when the most foolishthings become pregnant of infinite possibilities; when the veriesttrifles assume overwhelming proportions, filling and blotting out theuniverse.
So it was now, and as I stared down at the handkerchief, the Doubtwithin me grow suddenly into Certainty. I was pacing restlessly up anddown when I saw Lisbeth approaching; her cheeks seemed more flushedthan usual, and her hand trembled as she gave it to me.
"Why, whatever is the matter with you?" she said; "you look so--sostrange, Dick."
"I received a letter from the Duchess this morning."
"Did you?"
"Yes; in which she tells me your aunt has threatened to--"
"Cut me off with a shilling," nodded Lisbeth, crossing over to thetable.
"Yes," I said again.
"Well?"
"Well?"
"Oh, for goodness' sake, Dick, stop tramping up and down like a--acaged bear, and sit down--do!"
I obeyed; yet as I did so I saw her with the tail of my eye whip up thehandkerchief and tuck it beneath the laces at her bosom.
"Lisbeth," said I, without turning my head, "why hide it--there?"
Her face flushed painfully, her lips quivered, and for a moment shecould find no answer; then she tried to laugh it off.
"Because I--I wanted to, I suppose!"
"Obviously!" I retorted; and rising, bowed and turned to go.
"Stay a moment, Dick. I have something to tell you."
"Thank you, but I think I can guess."
"Can you?"
"Oh, yes."
"Aren't you just a little bit theatrical, Dick?" Now, as she spoke shedrew out Selwyn's handkerchief and began to tie and untie knots in it."Dick," she went on--and now she was tracing out Selwyn's monogram withher finger--"you tell me you know that Aunt Agatha has threatened todisinherit me; can you realise what that would mean to me, I wonder?"
"Only in some small part," I answered bitterly; "but it would be awfulfor you, of course--good-bye to society and all the rest of it--no moreball gowns or hats and things from Paris, and--"
"And bearing all this in mind," she put in, "and knowing me as you do,perhaps you can make another guess and tell me what I am likely to dounder these circumstances?"
Now, had I been anything but a preposterous ass, my answer would havebeen different; but then I was not myself, and I could not helpnoticing how tenderly her finger traced out those two letters F. S., soI laughed rather brutally and answered:
"Follow the instinct of your sex and stick to the Paris hats andthings."
I heard her breath catch, and turning away, she began to flutter thepages of the book upon the table.
"And you were always so clever at guessing, weren't you?" she saidafter a moment, keeping her face averted.
"At least it has saved your explaining the situation, and you should bethankful for that."
The book slipped suddenly to the ground and lay, all unheeded, and shebegan to laugh in a strange, high key. Wondering, I took a step towardher; but as I did so she fled from me, running toward the house, neverstopping or slackening speed, until I had lost sight of her altogether.
Thus the whole miserable business had befallen, dazing me by its verysuddenness like a "bolt from the blue." I had returned to the 'ThreeJolly Anglers,' determined to follow the advice of the Duchess andreturn to London by the next train. Yet, after passing a sleeplessnight, here I was sitting in my old place beneath the alders pretendingto fish.
The river was laughing among the reeds just as merrily as ever, beeshummed and butterflies wheeled and hovered--life and the world werevery fair. Yet for once I was blind to it all; moreover, my piperefused to "draw"--pieces of grass, twigs, and my penknife were alikeunavailing.
So I sat there, brooding upon the fickleness of womankind, as manyanother has done before me, and many will doubtless do after, alack!
And the sum of my thoughts was this: Lisbeth had deceived me; the hourof trial had found her weak; my idol was only common clay, after all.And yet she had but preferred wealth to comparative poverty, whichsurely, according to all the rules of common sense, had shown herpossessed of a wisdom beyond her years. And who was I to sit andgrieve over it? Under the same circumstances ninety-nine women out ofa hundred would have chosen precisely the same course; but then to meLisbeth had always seemed t
he one exempt--the hundredth woman;moreover, there be times when love, unreasoning and illogical, isinfinitely more beautiful than this much-vaunted common sense.
This and much more was in my mind as I sat fumbling with my uselesspipe and staring with unseeing eyes at the flow of the river. Mythoughts, however, were presently interrupted by something soft rubbingagainst me, and looking down, I beheld Dorothy's fluffy kitten Louise.Upon my attempting to pick her up, she bounded from me in thatremarkable sideways fashion peculiar to her kind, and stood regardingme from a distance, her tail straight up in the air and her mouthopening and shutting without a sound. At length having given vent toa very feeble attempt at a mew, she zig-zagged to me, and climbing uponmy knee, immediately fell into a purring slumber.
"Hallo, Uncle Dick!--I mean, what ho, Little John!" cried a voice, andlooking over my shoulder, carefully so as nor to disturb the balance of"Louise," I beheld the Imp. It needed but a glance at the bow in hishand, the three arrows in his belt, and the feather in his cap to tellme who he was for the time being.
"How now, Robin?" I inquired.
"I'm a bitter, disappointed man, Uncle Dick!" he answered, putting up ahand to feel if his feather was in place.
"Are you?"
"Yes the book says that Robin Hood was 'bitter an' disappointed' an' soam I."
"Why, how's that?"
The Imp folded his arms and regarded me with a terrific frown. "It'sall the fault of my Auntie Lisbeth'!" he said in a tragic voice.
"Sit down, my Imp, and tell me all about it."
"Well," he began laying aside his 'trusty sword,' and seating himselfat my elbow, "she got awfull' angry with me yesterday, awfull' angry,indeed, an' she wouldn't play with me or anything; an' when I tried tobe friends with her an' asked her to pretend she was a hippopotamus,'cause I was a mighty hunter, you know, she just said, 'Reginald, goaway an' don't bother me!'
"You surprise me, Imp!"
"But that's not the worst of it," he continued, shaking his headgloomily; "she didn't come to 'tuck me up' an' kiss me good-night likeshe always does. I lay awake hours an' hours waiting for her, youknow; but she never came, an' so I've left her!"
"Left her!" I repeated.
"For ever an' ever!" he said, nodding a stern brow. "I 'specks she'llbe awfull' sorry some day!"
"But where shall you go to?"
"I'm thinking of Persia!" he said darkly.
"Oh!"
"It's nice an' far, you know, an' I might meet Aladdin with thewonderful lamp."
"Alas, Imp, I fear not," I answered, shaking my head; "and besides, itwill take a long, long time to get there, and where shall you sleep atnight?"
The Imp frowned harder than ever, staring straight before him as onewho wrestles with some mighty problem, then his brow cleared and hespoke in this wise:
"Henceforth, Uncle Dick, my roof shall be the broad expanse of heaven,an--an--wait a minute!" he broke off, and lugging something from hispocket, disclosed a tattered, paper-covered volume (the Imp's books arealways tattered), and hastily turning the pages, paused at a certainparagraph and read as follows:
"'Henceforth my roof shall be the broad expanse of heaven, an' alltyrants shall learn to tremble at my name!' Doesn't that sound fine,Uncle Dick? I tried to get Ben, you know, the gardener's boy--to comean' live in the 'greenwood' with me a bit an' help to make 'tyrants'tremble, but he said he was 'fraid his mother might find him some day,an' he wouldn't, so I'm going to make them tremble all by myself,unless you will come an' be Little John, like you were once before--oh,do!"
Before I could answer, hearing footsteps, I looked round, and my heartleaped, for there was Lisbeth coming down the path.
Her head was drooping and she walked with a listless air. Now, as Iwatched I forgot everything but that she looked sad, and troubled, andmore beautiful than ever, and that I loved her. Instinctively I rose,lifting my cap. She started, and for the fraction of a second her eyeslooked into mine, then she passed serenely on her way. I might havebeen a stick or stone for all the further notice she bestowed.
Side by side, the Imp and I watched her go, until the last gleam of herwhite skirt had vanished amid the green. Then he folded his arms andturned to me.
"So be it!" he said, with an air of stern finality; "an' now, what is a'blasted oak,' please?"
"A blasted oak!" I repeated.
"If you please, Uncle Dick."
"'Well, it's an oak-tree that has been struck by lightning."
"Like the one with the 'stickie-out' branches, where I once hid AuntieLis--Her stockings?"
I nodded, and sitting down, began to pack up my fishing rod and things.
"I'm glad of that," pursued the Imp thoughtfully. "Robin Hood wasalways saying to somebody, 'Hie thee to the blasted oak at midnight!'an' it's nice to have one handy, you know."
I thought that under certain circumstances, and with a piece of rope,it would be very much so, "blasted" or otherwise, but I only said,"Yes" and sighed.
"'Whence that doleful visage,' Uncle Dick--I mean Little John? IsAuntie angry with you, too?"
"Yes," I answered, and sighed again.
"Oh!" said the Imp, staring, "an' do you feel like--like--wait aminute"--and once more he drew out and consulted the tatteredvolume--"'do you feel like hanging yourself in your sword-belt to thearm of yonder tree?'" he asked eagerly, with his finger upon a certainparagraph.
"Very like it, my Imp."
"Or--or 'hurling yourself from the topmost pinnacle of yon lofty crag?'"
"Yes, Imp; the 'loftier' the better!"
"Then you must be in love, like Alan-a-Dale; he was going to hanghimself, an' 'hurl himself oft the topmost pinnacle,' you know, onlyRobin Hood said, 'Whence that doleful visage,' an' stopped him--youremember?"
"To be sure," I nodded.
"An' so you are really in love with my Auntie Lisbeth, are you?"
"Yes."
"Is that why she's angry with you?"
"Probably."
The Imp was silent, apparently plunged once more in a profoundmeditation.
"'Fraid there's something wrong with her," he said at last, shaking hishead; "she's always getting angry with everybody 'bout something--youan' me an' Mr. Selwyn."
"Mr. Selwyn!" I exclaimed. "Imp, what do you mean?"
"'Well, she got cross with me first--an' over such a little thing, too!We were in the orchard, an' I spilt some lemonade on her gown--onlyabout half a glass, you know, an' when she went to wipe it off shehadn't a handkerchief, an' 'course I had none. So she told me to fetchone, an' I was just going when Mr. Selwyn came, so I said, 'Would helend Auntie Lisbeth his handkerchief, 'cause she wanted one to wipe herdress?' an' he said, 'Delighted!' Then auntie frowned at me an' shookher head when he wasn't looking. But Mr. Selwyn took out hishandkerchief, an' got down on his knees, an' began to wipe off thelemonade, telling her something 'bout his 'heart,' an' wishing he could'kneel at her feet forever!' Auntie got awfull' red, an' told him tostand up, but he wouldn't; an' then she looked at me so awfull' crossthat I thought I'd better leave, so while she was saying, 'Rise, Mr.Selwyn--do!' I ran away, only I could tell she was awfull' angry withMr. Selwyn--an' that's all!"
I rose to my knees and caught the Imp by the shoulders.
"Imp," I cried, "are you sure--quite sure that she was angry with Mr.Selwyn yesterday morning?"
"'Course I am. I always know when Auntie Lisbeth's angry. An' nowlet's go an' play at 'Blasted Oaks.'"
"Anything you like, Imp, so long as we find her."
"You're forgetting your fishing rod an'--"
"Fishing rod be--blowed!" I exclaimed, and set oft hurriedly in thedirection Lisbeth had taken.
The Imp trotted beside me, stumbling frequently over his "trusty sword"and issuing numberless commands in a hoarse, fierce voice to animaginary "band of outlaws." As for me, I strode on unheeding, for mymind was filled with a fast-growing suspicion that I had judged Lisbethlike a hasty fool.
In this manner we scou
red the neighbourhood very thoroughly, but withno success. However, we continued our search with unabatedardour--along the river path to the water stairs and from thence by wayof the gardens to the orchard; but not a sign of Lisbeth. Theshrubbery and paddock yielded a like result, and having interrogatedPeter in the harness-room, he informed us that "Miss Helezabeth washout along with Miss Dorothy." At last, after more than an hour ofthis sort of thing, even the Imp grew discouraged and suggested"turning pirates."
Our wanderings had led by devious paths, and now, as luck would haveit, we found ourselves beneath "the blasted oak."
We sat down very solemnly side by side, and for a long time there wassilence.
"It's fine to make 'tyrants tremble,' isn't it Uncle Dick?" said theImp at last.
"Assuredly." I nodded.
"But I should have liked to kiss Auntie Lisbeth good-bye first, an'Dorothy, an' Louise--"
"What do you mean, my Imp?"
"Oh, you know, Uncle Dick! 'My roof henceforth shall be the broadexpanse.' I'm going to fight giants an'--an' all sorts of cads, youknow. An' then, if ever I get to Persia an' do find the wonderfullamp, I can wish everything all right again, an' we should all be'happy ever after'--you an' Auntie Lisbeth an' Dorothy an' me; an' wecould live in a palace with slaves. Oh, it would be fine!"
"Yes, it's an excellent idea, Imp, but on the whole slightly risky,because it's just possible that you might never find the lamp; besides,you'll have to stop here, after all, because, you see, I'm going awaymyself."
"Then let's go away together, Uncle Dick, do!"
"Impossible, my Imp; who will look after your Auntie Lisbeth andDorothy and Louise?"
"I forgot that," he answered ruefully.
"And they need a deal of taking care of," I added.
"'Fraid they do," he nodded; "but there's Peter," he suggested,brightening.
"Peter certainly knows how to look after horses, but that is not quitethe same. Lend me your trusty sword."
He rose, and drawing it from his belt handed it to me with a flourish.
"You remember in the old times, Imp, when knights rode out to battle,it was customary for them when they made a solemn promise to kiss thecross-hilt of their swords, just to show they meant to keep it. So nowI ask you to go back to your Auntie Lisbeth, to take care of her, toshield and guard her from all things evil, and never to forget that youare her loyal and true knight; and now kiss your sword in token, willyou?" and I passed back the weapon.
"Yes," he answered, with glistening eyes, "I will, on my honour, sohelp me Sam!" and he kissed the sword.
"Good!" I exclaimed; "thank you, Imp."
"But are you really going away?" he inquired, looking at me with atroubled face.
"Yes!"
"Must you go?"
"Yes."
"Will you promise to come back some day--soon?"
"Yes, I promise."
"On your honour?"
"On my honour!" I repeated, and in my turn I obediently kissed hisextended sword-hilt.
"Are you going to-night, Uncle Dick?"
"I start very early in the morning, so you see we had better say'good-bye' now, my Imp."
"Oh!" he said, and stared away down the river. Now, in the button-holeof my coat there hung a fading rosebud which Lisbeth had given me twodays ago, and acting on impulse, I took it out.
"Imp," I said, "when you get back, I want you to give this to yourAuntie Lisbeth and say--er--never mind, just give it to her, will you?"
"Yes, Uncle Dick," he said, taking it from me, but keeping his faceturned away.
"And now good-bye, Imp!"
"Good-bye!" he answered, still without looking at me.
"Won't you shake hands?"
He thrust out a grimy little palm, and as I clasped it I saw a big tearroll down his cheek.
"You'll come back soon--very soon--Uncle Dick?"
"Yes, I'll come back, my Imp."
"So--help you--Sam?"
"So help me Sam!"
And thus it was we parted, the Imp and I, beneath the "blasted oak,"and I know my heart was strangely heavy as I turned away and left him.
After I had gone some distance I paused to look back. He still stoodwhere I had left him, but his face was hidden in his arms as he leanedsobbing against the twisted trunk of the great tree.
All the way to the 'Three Jolly Anglers' and during the rest of theevening the thought of the little desolate figure haunted me, so muchso that, having sent away my dinner untasted, I took pen and ink andwrote him a letter, enclosing with it my penknife, which I had oftenseen him regard with "the eye of desire," despite the blade he hadbroken upon a certain memorable occasion. This done, I becamepossessed of a determination to send some message to Lisbeth also--justa few brief words which should yet reveal to her something of thethoughts I bore her ere I passed out of her life forever.
For over an hour I sat there, chewing the stem of my useless pipe andracking my bran, but the "few brief words" obstinately refused to come.Nine o'clock chimed mournfully from the Norman tower of the church hardby, yet still my pen was idle and the paper before me blank; also Ibecame conscious of a tapping somewhere close at hand, now stopping,now beginning again, whose wearisome iteration so irritated myfractious nerves that I flung down my pen and rose.
The noise seemed to come from the vicinity of the window. Crossing toit, therefore, I flung the casement suddenly open, and found myselfstaring into a round face, in which were set two very round eyes and abutton of a nose, the whole surmounted by a shock of red hair.
"'Allo, Mr. Uncle Dick!"
It needed but this and a second glance at the round face to assure methat it pertained to Ben, the gardener's boy.
"What, my noble Benjamin?" I exclaimed.
"No, it's me!" answered the redoubtable Ben. "'E said I was to giveyou this an' tell you, 'Life an' death!'" As he spoke he held out aroll of paper tied about the middle with a boot lace; which done, theround head grinned, nodded, and disappeared from my ken. Unwinding theboot lace, I spread out the paper and read the following words,scrawled in pencil:
Hi the to the Blasted Oke and all will be forgiven. Come back to yourluving frends and bigones shall be bigones. Look to the hole in thetrunk there of.
Sined, ROBIN, Outlaw and Knight.
P.S. I mean where i hid her stockings--you no.
I stood for some time with this truly mysterious document in my hand,in two minds what to do about it; if I went, the chances were that Ishould run against the Imp, and there would be a second leave-taking,which in my present mood I had small taste for. On the other hand,there was a possibility that something might have transpired which Ishould do well to know.
And yet what more could transpire? Lisbeth had made her choice, mydream was over, to-morrow I should return to London--and there was anend of it all; still--
In this pitiful state of vacillation I remained for some time, but inthe end curiosity and a fugitive hope gained the day, and taking mycap, I sallied forth.
It was, as Stevenson would say, "a wonderful night of stars," and theair was full of their soft, quivering light, for the moon was late andhad not risen as yet. As I stepped from the inn door, somebody in thetap-room struck up "Tom Bowling" in a rough but not unmusical voice;and the plaintive melody seemed somehow to become part of the night.
Truly, my feet trod a path of "faerie," carpeted with soft mosses, apath winding along beside a river of shadows on whose dark tide starswere floating. I walked slowly, breathing the fragrance of the nightand watching the great, silver moon creeping slowly up the spangledsky. So I presently came to the "blasted oak." The hole in the trunkneeded little searching for. I remembered it well enough, andthrusting in my hand, drew out a folded paper. Holding this close to myeyes, I managed with no little difficulty to decipher this message:
Don't go unkel dick bekors Auntie lisbeth wants you and i want you to.I heard her say so to herself in the libree and she was crying to, anddidn't see me there bu
t i was. And she said O Dick i want you so, outloud bekors she didn't no I was there. And i no she was crying bekorsi saw the tiers. And this is true on my onner so help me sam.
Sined, Yore true frend and Knight, REGINALD AUGUSTUS.
A revulsion of feeling swept over me as I read. Ah! if only I couldbelieve she had said such words--my beautiful, proud Lisbeth.
Alas! dear Imp, how was it possible to believe you? And because Iknew it could not possibly be true, and because I would have given mylife to know that it was true, I began to read the note all over again.
Suddenly I started and looked round; surely that was a sob! But themoon's level rays served only to show the utter loneliness about me. Itwas imagination, of course, and yet it had sounded very real.
And she said, "O Dick, I want you so!"
The river lapped softly against the bank, and somewhere above my headthe leaves rustled dismally.
"Dear little Imp, if it were only true!"
Once again the sound came to me, low and restrained, but a sobunmistakably.
On the other side of the giant tree I beheld a figure half sitting,half lying. The shadow was deep here, but as I stooped the kindly moonsent down a shaft of silver light, and I saw a lovely, startled face,with great, tear-dimmed eyes.
"Lisbeth!" I exclaimed; then, prompted by a sudden thought, I glancedhastily around.
"I am alone," she said, interpreting my thought aright.
"But--here--and--and at such an hour!" I stammered foolishly. Sheseemed to be upon her feet in one movement, fronting me with flashingeyes.
"I came to look for the Imp. I found this on his pillow. Perhaps youwill explain?" and she handed me a crumpled paper.
DEAR AUNTIE LISBATH: (I read)
Unkel dick is going away bekors he is in luv with you and you are angrywith the Blasted oke, where I hid yore stokkings if you want to kiss meand be kind to me again, come to me bekors I want someboddie to be niceto me now he is gone.
yore luving sorry IMP.
P.S. He said he would like to hang himself in his sword-belt to thearm of yonder tree and hurl himself from yon topmost pinnakel, so I nohe is in luv with you.
"Oh, blessed Imp!"
"And now where is he?" she demanded.
"Lisbeth, I don't know."
"You don't know! Then why are you here?"
For answer I held out the letter I had found, and watched while sheread the words I could not believe.
Her hat was off, and the moon made wonderful lights in the coils of herblack hair. She was wearing an indoor gown of some thin material thatclung, boldly revealing the gracious lines of her supple figure, and inthe magic of the moon she seemed some young goddess of the woods--talland fair and strong, yet infinitely womanly.
Now as she finished reading she turned suddenly away, yet not before Ihad seen the tell-tale colour glowing in her cheeks--a slow wave whichsurged over her from brow to chin, and chin to the round, white columnof her throat.
And she said, "O Dick, I want you so!" I read aloud.
"Oh," Lisbeth murmured.
"Lisbeth, is it true?"
She stood with her face averted, twisting the letter in her fingers.
"Lisbeth!" I said, and took a step nearer. Still she did not speak,but her hands came out to me with a swift, passionate gesture, and hereyes looked into mine; and surely none were ever more sweet, with thenew shyness in their depths and the tears glistening on their lashes.
And in that moment Doubt and Fear were swallowed up in a great joy, andI forgot all things save that Lisbeth was before me and that I lovedher. The moon, risen now, had made a broad path of silver across theshadowy river to our very feet, and I remembered how the Imp had oncetold me that it was there for the moon fairies to come down by whenthey bring us happy dreams. Surely, the air was full of moon fairiesto-night.
"O Imp, thrice blessed Imp!"
"But--but Selwyn?" I groaned at last.
"Well?"
"If you love him--"
"But I don't!"
"But if you are to marry him--"
"But I'm not! I was going to tell you so in the orchard yesterday, butyou gave me no chance; you preferred to guess, and, of course, guessedwrong altogether. I knew it made you wretched, and I was glad of itand meant to keep you so a long, long time; but when I looked up andsaw you standing there so very, very miserable, Dick, I couldn't keepit up any longer, because I was so dreadfully wretched myself, youknow."
"Can you ever forgive me?"
"That depends, Dick."
"On what?"
Lisbeth stooped, and picking up her hat, began to put it on.
"Depends on what?" I repeated.
Her hat was on now, but for a while she did not answer, her eyes uponthe "fairy path." When at last she spoke her voice was very low andtender.
"'Not far from the village of Down, in Kent, there is a house,'" shebegan, "'a very old house, with pointed gables and pannelled chambers,but empty to-night and desolate.' You see I remember it all," shebroke off.
"Yes, you remember it all," I repeated, wondering.
"Dick--I--I want you to--take me there. I've thought of it all sooften. Take me there, Dick."
"Lisbeth, do you mean it?"
"It has been the dream of my life for a long time now--to work for youthere, to take care of you, Dick--you need such a deal, such a greatdeal of taking care of--to walk with you in the old rose garden; butI'm a beggar now, you know, though I sha'n't mind a bit if--if you wantme, Dick."
"Want you!" I cried, and with the words I drew her close and kissedher. Now, from somewhere in the tree above came a sudden crack andmighty snapping of twigs.
"All right, Uncle Dick!" cried a voice; "it's only the branch. Don'tworry."
"Imp!" I exclaimed.
"I'm coming, Uncle Dick," he answered, and with much exertion and heavybreathing he presently emerged into view and squirmed himself safely toearth. For a moment he stood looking from one to the other of us, thenhe turned to Lisbeth.
"Won't you forgive me, too, Auntie Lisbeth, please?" he said.
"Forgive you!" she cried, and falling on her knees, gathered him in herarms.
"I'm glad I didn't go to Persia, after all, Uncle Dick," he said overher shoulder.
"Persia!" repeated Lisbeth, wonderingly.
"Oh, yes; you were so angry with Uncle Dick an' me--so frightfull'angry, you know, that I was going to try to find the 'wonderful lamp'so I could wish everything all right again an' all of us 'live happyever after'; but the blasted oak did just as well, an' was nicer,somehow, wasn't it?"
"Infinitely nicer," I answered.
"An' you will never be angry with Uncle Dick or me any more, will you,auntie--that is, not frightfull' angry, you know?"
"Never any more, dear."
"On your honour?"
"On my honour!"
"So help you Sam?"
"So help me Sam!" she repeated, smiling, but there were tears in hervoice.
Very gravely the Imp drew his "trusty sword," which she, following hisinstructions, obediently kissed.
"And now," cried he, "we are all happy again, aren't we?"
"More happy than I ever hoped or dreamed to be," answered Lisbeth,still upon her knees; "and oh, Imp--dear little Imp, come and kiss me."
VIII
THE LAND OF HEART'S DELIGHT
Surely there never was and never could be such another morning as this!Ever since the first peep of dawn a blackbird had been singing to mefrom the fragrant syringa-bush that blossomed just beneath my window.Each morning I had wakened to the joyous melody of his golden song.But to-day the order was reversed. I had sat there at my opencasement, breathing the sweet purity of the morning, watching theeastern sky turn slowly from pearl-grey to saffron and from saffron todeepest crimson, until at last the new-risen sun had filled all theworld with his glory. And then this blackbird of mine had begun--veryhoarse at first, trying a note now and then in a tentative sort offashion, as
though still drowsy and not quite sure of himself, butlittle by little his notes had grown longer, richer, mellower, untilhere he was pouring out his soul in an ecstasy.
Ah! surely there never was, there never could be, such another morningas this!
Out of the green twilight of the woods a gentle wind was blowing, ladenwith the scent of earth and hidden flowers. Dewdrops twinkled in thegrass and hung glistening from every leaf and twig, and beyond all wasthe sheen of the murmurous river.
The blackbird was in full song now, and by degrees others joinedin--thrush, and lark, and linnet, with the humbler voices of thefarmyard--until the sunny air was vibrant with the chorus.
Presently a man in a sleeved waistcoat crossed the paddock, whistlinglustily, and from somewhere below there rose a merry clatter of platesand dishes; and thus the old inn, which had seen so many mornings, wokeup to yet another. But there never was, there never could be, justsuch another morning as this was!
And in a little while, having dressed with more than usual care, I wentdownstairs to find my breakfast awaiting me in the "Sanded Parlour,"having ordered it for this early hour the night previously--ham andeggs and fragrant coffee, what mortal could wish for more?
And while I ate, waited on by the rosy-cheeked chambermaid, in cameMaster Amos Baggett, mine host, to pass the time of day, and likewiseto assure me that my baggage should catch the early train; who when Irose, my meal at an end, paused to wipe his honest hand quiteneedlessly upon his snowy apron ere he wished me "Good-bye."
So having duly remembered the aforesaid rosy-cheeked chambermaid, theobsequious "Boots" and the grinning ostler, I sallied forth into thesunshine, and crossing the green, where stood the battered sign-post, Icame to a flight of rough steps, at the foot of which my boat wasmoored. In I stepped, cast loose the painter, and shipping the sculls,shot out into the stream.
No, there never was, there never could be, just such another morning asthis, for to-day I was to marry Lisbeth, and every stroke of the oarcarried me nearer to her and happiness. Gaily the alders bent andnodded to me; joyfully the birds piped and sang; merrily the waterlaughed and chattered against my prow as I rowed through the goldenmorning.
Long before the hour appointed I reached the water-stairs at FaneCourt, and tying my skiff, lighted my pipe and watched the smoke riseslowly into the still air while I tried "to possess my soul inpatience." Sitting thus, I dreamed many a fair dream of the new lifethat was to be, and made many resolutions, as a man should upon hiswedding morn.
And at last came Lisbeth herself, swiftly, lightly, as fair and sweetand fresh as the morning, who yet paused a while to lean upon thebalustrade and look down at me beneath the brim of her hat. Up I roseand stretched out my hands to her, but she still stood there, and I sawher cheeks were flushed and her eyes shy and tender. So once more westood upon the old water-stairs, she on the top stair, I on the lower;and again I saw the little foot beneath her skirt come slowly towardsme and hesitate.
"Dick," she said, "you know that Aunt Agatha has cut meoff--disinherited me altogether--you have had time to think it allover?"
"Yes."
"And you are quite--quite sure?"
"Quite! I think I have been so all my life."
"I'm penniless now, Dick, a beggar, with nothing in the world but theclothes I wear."
"Yes," I said, catching her hands in mine, "my beggar-maid; theloveliest, noblest, sweetest that ever stooped to bestow her love onman.
"Dick, how glorious everything is this morning--the earth, the sky, andthe river!"
"It is our wedding morning!" said I.
"Our wedding day," she repeated in a whisper.
"And there never was just such a morning as this," said I.
"But, Dick, all days cannot be as this--there must come clouds andstorm sometimes, and--and--O Dick! are you sure that you will never,never regret--"
"I love you, Lisbeth, in the shadow as well as the sunshine--love youever and always." And so, the little foot hesitating no longer,Lisbeth came down to me.
Oh, never again could there be such another morning as this!
"Ahoy!"
I looked round with a start, and there, his cap cocked rakishly overone eye, his "murderous cutlass" at his hip and his arms folded acrosshis chest, stood "Scarlet Sam, the Terror of the South Seas."
"Imp!" cried Lisbeth.
"Avast!" cried he in lusty tones; "whereaway?"
I glanced helplessly at Lisbeth and she at me.
"Whereaway, shipmate?" he bellowed in nautical fashion, but before Icould find a suitable answer Dorothy made her appearance with thefluffy kitten "Louise" cuddled under her arm as usual.
"How do you do?" she said demurely; "it's awfully nice to get up soearly, isn't it? We heard auntie creeping about on tippity-toes, youknow, so we came, too. Reginald said she was pretending to beburglars, but I think she's going 'paddling.' Are you, auntie?"
"No, dear; not this morning," answered Lisbeth, shaking her head.
"Then you are going for a row in Uncle Dick's boat. How fine!"
"An' you'll take us with you, won't you, Uncle Dick?" cried the Impeagerly. "We'll be pirates. I'll be 'Scarlet Sam,' an' you can be'Timothy Bone, the bo'sun,' like you were last time.
"Impossible, my Imp," I said firmly. He looked at me incredulously fora moment, then, seeing I meant it, his lip began to quiver.
"I didn't think 'T-Timothy B-Bone' would ever desert me," he said, andturned away.
"Oh, auntie!" exclaimed Dorothy, "won't you take us?"
"Dear--not this morning."
"Are you going far, then, Uncle Dick?"
"Yes, very far," I answered, glancing uneasily from the Imp's droopingfigure to Lisbeth.
"I wonder where?"
"Oh--well--er--down the rivers," I stammered, quite at a loss.
"Y-e-s, but where?" persisted Dorothy.
"Well, to--er--to--"
"To the 'Land of Heart's Delight,'" Lisbeth put in, "and you may comewith us, after all, if Uncle Dick will take you."
"To be sure he will, if your auntie wishes it," I cried, "so stepaboard, my hearties, and lively!" In a moment the Imp's hand was inmine, and he was smiling up at me with wet lashes.
"I knew 'Timothy Bone' could never be a--a 'mutinous rogue,'" he said,and turned to aid Dorothy aboard with the air of an admiral on hisflagship.
And now, all being ready, he unhitched the painter, or, as he said,"slipped our cable," and we glided out into midstream.
"A ship," he said thoughtfully, "always has a name. What shall we callthis one? Last time we were 'pirates' and she was the Black Death--"
"Never mind last time, Imp," I broke in; "to-day she is the JoyfulHope."
"That doesn't sound very 'pirate-y,' somehow," he responded with adisparaging shake of the head, "but I s'pose it will have to do."
And so, upon that summer morning, the good ship Joyful Hope set sailfor the "Land of the Heart's Delight," and surely no vessel of her sizeever carried quite such a cargo of happiness before or since.
And once again "Scarlet Sam" stamped upon the "quarter-deck" and roaredorders anent "lee shrouds" and "weather braces," with diversinjunctions concerning the "helm," while his eyes rolled and heflourished his "murderous cutlass" as he had done upon a certain othermemorable occasion. Never, never again could there be just suchanother morning as this--for two of us at least.
On we went, past rush and sedge and weeping willow, by roaring weir andcavernous lock, into the shadow of grim stone bridges and out againinto the sunshine, past shady woods and green uplands until at lengthwe "cast anchor" before a flight of steps leading up to a particularlyworn stone gateway surmounted by a crumbling stone cross.
"Why," exclaimed the Imp, staring, "this is a church!"
"Imp," I nodded, "I believe it is?"
"But to-day isn't Sunday, you know," he remonstrated, seeing it was ourintention to land.
"Never mind that, Imp; 'the better the deed, the better the day, youknow.'"<
br />
On we went, Dorothy with the fluffy Louise beneath her arm and the Impwith cutlass swinging at his belt, while Lisbeth and I brought up therear, and as we went she slipped her hand into mine. In the porch wecame upon an aged woman busy with a broom and a very large duster, who,catching sight of Dorothy's kitten and the Imp's "murderous weapon,"dropped first the duster and then the broom, and stood staring inopen-mouthed astonishment.
And there in the dim old church, with the morning sun making a glory ofthe window above our heads, and with the birds for our choristers, thevows were exchanged and the blessing pronounced that gave Lisbeth andher future into my keeping; yet I think we were both conscious of thosetwo small figures in the gloom of the great pew behind, who stared inround-eyed wonderment.
The register duly signed and all formalities over and done, we go outinto the sunshine; and once more the aged woman, richer now by half acrown, is reduced to mute astonishment, so that speech is beyond her,when the Imp, lifting his feathered cap, politely wishes her"good-morning."
Being come aboard the Joyful Hope, there ensued an awkward pause,during which Lisbeth looked at the children and I at her.
"We must take them back home," she said at last.
"We shall miss our train, Lisbeth."
"But," and here she blushed most delightfully, "there is really nohurry; we can take a--a later one."
"So be it," I said, and laid our course accordingly.
For a time there was silence, during which the Imp, as if in momentaryexpectation of an attack by bloodthirsty foes, scowled about him,pistol in hand, keeping, as he said, "his weather eye lifting," whileDorothy glanced from Lisbeth to me and back again with puzzled brows.
"I do believe you have been marrying each other!" she said suddenly.The Imp forgot all about his "weather eye" and stared aghast.
"'Course not!" he cried at last. "Uncle Dick wouldn't do such a thing,would you, Uncle Dick?"
"Imp I have--I do confess it."
"Oh!" he exclaimed in a tone of deepest tragedy. "And you let him goand do it, Auntie Lisbeth?"
"He was so very, very persistent, Imp," she sad, actually turningcrimson beneath his reproachful eye.
"Don't be too hard on us, Imp," I pleaded.
"I s'pose it can't be helped now," he said, a little mollified, butfrowning sternly, nevertheless.
"No," I answered, with my eyes upon Lisbeth's lovely, blushing face,"it certainly can't be helped now."
"And you'll never do it again?"
"Never again, Imp."
"Then I forgive you, only why--why did you do it?"
"Well, you see, my Imp, I have an old house in the country, a very cosyold place, but it's lonely, horribly lonely, to live by one's self.I've wanted somebody to help me to live in it for a long time, butnobody would you know, Imp. At last our Auntie Lisbeth has promised totake care of the house and me, to fill the desolate rooms with hervoice and sweet presence and my empty life with her life. You can'tquite understand how much this means to me now, Imp, but you will someday, perhaps."
"But are you going to take our Auntie Lisbeth away from us?" criedDorothy.
"Yes, dear," I answered, "but--"
"Oh, I don't like that one bit!" exclaimed the Imp.
"But you shall come there and stay with us as often as you wish," saidLisbeth.
"That would be perfectly beautiful!" cried Dorothy.
"Yes, but when?" inquired the Imp gloomily.
"Soon," I answered.
"Very soon!" said Lisbeth.
"Will you promise to be 'Timothy Bone, the bo'sun,' an' the 'BlackKnight,' an' 'Little-John' whenever I want you to--so help you Sam,Uncle Dick?"
"I will, Imp."
"An' make me a long sword with a--a 'deadly point'?"
"Yes," I nodded, "and show you some real ones, too."
"Real ones?" he cried.
"Oh, yes, and armour as well; there's lots of it in the old house, youknow."
"Let's go now!" he cried, nearly upsetting the boat in his eagerness.
"Oh! O Dick!" cried Lisbeth at this moment, "Dick--there's Aunt!"
"Aunt?" I repeated.
"Aunt Agatha, and she sees us; look!"
Turning my head, I beheld a most unexpected sight. Advancing directlyupon us was the old boat, that identical, weather-beaten tub of a boatwhich Lisbeth and I had come so near ending our lives together, thewhich has already been told in these Chronicles. On the rowing-thwartsat Peter, the coachman, and in the stern-sheets, very grim and stiffin the back, her lorgnettes at her eyes, was Lady Warburton.
Escape was quite out of the question, and in half a dozen strokes ofthe oar we were alongside and close under the battery of the lorgnettes.
"Elizabeth," she began in her most ponderous manner, ignoring mypresence altogether, "Elizabeth, child, I blush for you."
"Then, Aunt, please don't," cried Lisbeth; "I can do quite enough ofthat for myself. I'm always blushing lately," and as if to prove herwords she immediately proceeded to do so.
"Elizabeth," proceeded Lady Warburton, making great play with herlorgnettes, "your very shameless, ungrateful letter I received lastnight. This morning I arose at an objectionably early hour, travelleddown in a draughty train, and here I am out on a damp and nasty riverin a leaky boat, with my feet horribly wet, but determined to save youfrom an act which you may repent all your days."
"Excuse me," I said, bowing deeply, "but such heroic devotion cannot besufficiently appreciated and admired. In Lisbeth's name I beg to thankyou; nevertheless."
"Mr. Brent, I believe?" she said in a tone of faint surprise, as thoughnoticing my presence for the first time.
"At your service, madam!" I answered with another bow.
"Then I must ask you to convey my ward back to Fane Court immediately;she and the children will accompany me to London at once."
"My dear Lady Warburton," I said, fronting the lorgnettes with reallyadmirable fortitude, "it grieves me to deny you this request, butbelieve me, it is impossible!"
"Impossible!" she repeated.
"Quite!" I answered. "You here behold the good ship Joyful Hope, boundfor the 'Land of Heart's Delight,' and we aboard are all determined onour course."
"'An' the wind blows fair, an' our helm's a-lee, so it's heave, mymariners, all--O!'" cried the Imp in his nautical voice.
"Dear me!" ejaculated Lady Warburton, staring. "Elizabeth, be soobliging as to tell me what it all means. Why have you dragged thesechildren from their beds to come philandering upon a horrid river atsuch an hour?"
"Excuse me, Aunt, but she didn't drag us," protested the Imp, bowingexactly as I had done a moment before.
"Oh, no, we came," nodded Dorothy.
"An' we've been getting married, you know," said the Imp.
"And it was all very, very beautiful," added Dorothy; "even Louiseenjoyed it ever so much!" and she kissed the fluffy kitten.
"Married!" cried Lady Warburton in a tone of horror; "married!"
"They would do it, you know," sighed the Imp.
"And quite right, too," said Dorothy; "everybody always marriessomebody, some time; it's very fashionable at present. Mamma did andso shall I when I grow up, I suppose."
"Goodness gracious, child!" exclaimed Lady Warburton.
"I s'pose you're angry 'bout it, Aunt," pursued the Imp. "I was atfirst--just a weeny bit; but you see Uncle Dick has a wonderful housewith swords an' armour, but empty, an' he wanted to keep somebody in itto see that everything was nice, I s'pose, an' sing, you know, an' takecare of his life. Auntie Lisbeth can sing, an' she wanted to go, so Iforgave them."
"Oh, indeed, Reginald?" said Lady Warburton in a rather queer voice,and I saw the corners of her high, thin nose quiver strangely.
"Beggin' your pardon, ma' am," said Peter at this moment, touching hiscap, "I don't know much about boats, my line bein' 'osses, but I dothink as this 'ere boat is a-goin' to sink."
"Then row for the shore instantly," said Lady Warburton firmly, "andshoul
d I never reach it alive"--here she brought her lorgnette to bearon Lisbeth--"I say if I do meet a watery grave this day, my epitaphshall be, 'Drowned by the Ingratitude of a Niece.'"
However, this gloomy tragedy being happily averted, and Lady Warburtonsafely landed, I, at a nod from Lisbeth, rowed to the bank likewise andwe all disembarked together.
Now, as kind Fortune would have it, and Fortune was very kind thatmorning, the place where we stood was within a stone's throw of TheThree Jolly Anglers, and wafted to us on the warm, still air there camea wondrous fragrance, far sweeter and more alluring than the breath ofroses or honeysuckle--the delightful aroma of frying bacon.
Lady Warburton faced us, her parasol tucked beneath her arm, lookingvery much like a military officer on parade.
"Dorothy and Reginald," she said in a short, sharp voice of command,"bid good-bye to your Auntie Lisbeth and accompany me home at once."
"No, no," cried Lisbeth, with hands stretched out appealingly, "youwill not leave us like this, Aunt--for the sake of the love I shallalways bear you, and--and--"
"Elizabeth, I cared for you from your babyhood up. Ingratitude is myreturn. I watched you grow from child to woman. I planned out afuture for you; you broke those plans. I might tell you that I am alonely, disappointed old woman, who loved you much more than shethought, but I won't!"
"Dear, dear Aunt Agatha, did you love me so much, and I never guessed;you wouldn't let me, you see. Ah! do not think me ungrateful, but whena woman comes to marry she must choose for herself as I have done; andI am happy, dear, and proud of my choice--proud to have won the truelove of a true man; only do not think I am ungrateful. And if thismust be good-bye, do not let us part like this--for my sake and yoursake and the sake of my--husband."
Lady Warburton had turned away, and there ensued a somewhatembarrassing pause.
"Elizabeth," she said suddenly, "if I don't mistake, somebody is fryingbacon somewhere, and I'm ravenously hungry."
"So am I," cried the Imp.
"And so am I," Dorothy chimed in.
"Then suppose we have breakfast," I suggested, and in almost less timethan it takes to tell I was leading the way across the green with LadyWarburton on my arm--actually leaning on my arm. It all happened soquickly that Heaven and Lisbeth alone know how she got there.
And now who so surprised to see us as honest Amos Baggett, ushering uswith many bows and smiles into the Sanded Parlour, where breakfast wassoon ready; and who so quick and dexterous in attending to our wants asthe rosy-cheeked chambermaid?
And what a breakfast that was! Never had the antique andirons on thehearth, the pewter plates and dishes upon the walls, the brass-boundblunderbuss above the mantel seemed so bright and polished before, andsurely never had they gleamed upon a merrier company. To be sure, theImp's remarks were somewhat few and far between, but that was simply onaccount of the blackberry jam.
"I suppose you are both ridiculously happy," said Lady Warburton,eyeing us over her coffee cup.
"Most absurdly!" answered Lisbeth, blushing all in a moment.
"Preposterously!" I nodded.
"Of course!" said Lady Warburton, and setting down her cup, she sighed,while I wondered what memories her narrow life could hold.
"Uncle Dick," said the Imp suddenly, "do you s'pose Scarlet Sam everate blackberry jam?"
"Undoubtedly, my Imp, when he could get it." This appeared to greatlyrelieve his mind; for he took another helping.
But all things must have an end, alas!-even such a breakfast as this,and presently we were out in the sunshine again, standing beneath theweather-beaten sign whereon three faded fishermen fished with fadedrods in a faded stream; while away down the road we could see Peteralready approaching with the carriage.
"And now I suppose you are going?" said Lady Warburton.
"There is a train at half-past ten," I answered.
"An' we are going, too!" said Dorothy.
"Yes, we're quite ready, Uncle Dick," cried the Imp, thrusting hispistols into his belt.
"But you wouldn't leave me all alone, would you, children?" asked LadyWarburton, and there was a certain wistfulness in her sharp face thatseemed new to it.
"'Course not," sighed the Imp, "only--"
"We must stay and take care of her, Reginald," nodded Dorothydecisively.
"Yes, I'll take care of you, Aunt, with lance, battle-axe, an' sword,by day an' night," said the Imp, "only--I should have liked to seeUncle Dick's wonderful house, with the real swords an' armour, in theLand of Heart's Delight--some day, you know."
"And so you shall," cried Lady Warburton, and she actually stooped tokiss him, and then Dorothy, rather 'pecky' kisses, perhaps, but verygenuine kisses notwithstanding.
"Richard," she said, giving me her hand, "we shall come down to yourwonderful house--all three of us next week, so be prepared--now beoff--both of you."
"Then you forgive me, Aunt?" asked Lisbeth, hesitating.
"Well, I don't quite know yet, Lisbeth; but, my dear, I'll tell yousomething I have never mentioned to a living soul but you; if I hadacted forty years ago as you did to-day, I should have been a verydifferent creature to the cross-grained old woman you think me.There--there's a kiss, but as for forgiving you--that is quite anothermatter; I must have time to think it all over. Good-bye, my dear; and,Richard, fill her life with happiness, to make up for mine, if you can.Children, bid good-bye to your Auntie--and Uncle Dick!"
"You won't forget the sword with the 'deadly point,' will you, UncleDick?"
"I won't forget, my Imp!" Hereupon he tried to smile, but histrembling lips refused, and snatching his band from mine he turnedaway; as for Dorothy, she was sobbing into the fur of the fluffy kitten.
Then I helped Lisbeth aboard The Joyful Hope, loving her the more forthe tears that gleamed beneath her long lashes, and 'casting loose,' weglided out into the stream.
There they stood, the two children, with the white-haired figurebetween them, Dorothy holding up the round-eyed "Louise" for a partingglimpse, and the Imp flourishing his cutlass, until a bend of the riverhid them from view.
So Lisbeth and I sailed on together through the golden morning to "TheLand of Heart's Delight."
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends