CHAPTER XVII
BARBARA'S SELF-SACRIFICE
There were few coaches and lackeys in the square when Sydney Fellowesleft Lady Bolsover's. Hastily taking leave in the hall of anacquaintance who seemed inclined to bear him company, he hurried away,too much absorbed in his thoughts to think of the dangers of the streetsfor a lonely man at that hour of the night. He went quickly to PallMall, and entered a coffee-house there. A man at once rose from a cornerto attract his attention. It was Martin Fairley.
"She evidently expected someone to-night," said Fellowes in a low toneas they sat down together, "but I cannot guess who, nor whether it wasman or woman. Of one thing I am certain, whoever she expected, MistressLanison was disappointed."
"Who was there?"
"Sir John Lanison for one, Martin. No, his niece did not expect him, norLady Bolsover either. His arrival was a surprise to both of them."
"And to me," Martin answered; "but it is bad news. What brings him fromAylingford? Can Rosmore be in town?"
"No, that is impossible," returned Fellowes. "He is busy withpreparations for the assizes, and is in command of the military forceplaced at the disposal of Judge Jeffreys. For the present Rosmore istied to the West. I would he might find a speedy grave there."
"Sir John comes like an ill-omened bird; I wish I knew his reason," saidMartin thoughtfully. "Did he speak with his niece?"
"A few words only, and there was the courtesy as of strangers betweenthem. I could not hear what was said, but it was nothing that had anyspecial interest for Mistress Lanison. Her expression did not change."
"Do you imagine you can read her so easily?"
"Ah, Martin, I know; there is no imagination in it. Were I cunning witha brush and colour, I could paint you a thousand of her expressions andtell you the thoughts which lay behind them all. I am a lover, remember,with all a lover's quick perception, although the lady I worship thinksno more of me than of the soiled glove she casts aside."
Martin looked at him for a moment in silence, and then laid his hand onhis arm.
"Soiled gloves go in pairs, Master Fellowes."
"You mean--"
"There is small difference sometimes between a lover and a madman. Had Imy fiddle with me I might play to you all that I mean."
Fellowes drummed with his fingers on the little table before him for amoment, and then seemed to shake himself out of a dream.
"There must be too few women in the world, Martin, when the desires ofso many men are for one. To-morrow--what must be done to-morrow?"
"I shall see her to-morrow afternoon; until then I cannot tell what isto be done. A message will find you at your lodging?"
"Yes, I shall wait. If I do not hear, I shall make some excuse for beingat Lady Bolsover's again in the evening."
Outside the coffee-house they separated. Where Martin went at nightsFellowes did not know, nor did he inquire. Fairley could find him, ifnecessary, and that was enough.
Neither did Barbara know where Martin lived, or she would surely havesent him a message next day, for long before noon she had made up hermind to act without delay.
The coming of Sir John was as ill-omened to her as it was to Martin. Insome manner, she was convinced, his presence in London nearly concernedher, and much might depend on her promptness in carrying out theresolution she had made. So she awoke with a convenient headache, andhad the news conveyed to her aunt. Then, assured that she would be leftundisturbed, she dressed very carefully, anxious to look her best, andeven practised her most winning smiles before her mirror. Her maid, whocould be trusted and was a child of intrigue by nature, loyally assistedher mistress, and they were able to leave the house together withouthindrance. Calling a coach, they were driven to the Temple, where JudgeMarriott had his lodging. Barbara had determined to appeal to him. If hewould, he certainly could save Gilbert Crosby, and, if she hoped so toentreat him that the reward he asked for his help should not be tooheavy, she was prepared to pay whatever price he demanded. Inimagination she saw herself his wife, and though she shuddered at thethought she never contemplated stopping the coach and going back to St.James's Square, her mission unfulfilled.
"Judge Marriott has left London," said the servant when Barbara inquiredfor him.
"When does he return?"
The servant did not know. It seemed evident that his generalinstructions were to be reticent concerning his master's going andcoming.
"I must see him without delay on a matter of the gravest importance--thegravest importance to him," said Barbara, and she was surely speakingnothing but the truth, for the easy winning of her must be of greatmoment to any man. "Can you tell me where I shall find him? Has he goneto Aylingford Abbey?"
The man thought not, but his imagination did not appear to help himfurther than that.
"It is most important," repeated Barbara, and in her hand was a goldenbribe.
"I ought not to give any information," said the man, "but you say it isimportant to my master. He has set out for Dorchester to deal with someof the rebel prisoners there."
"You are sure he goes first to Dorchester?"
"Quite certain, madam."
Barbara was deeply thoughtful as the coach drove back to St. James'sSquare. An unforeseen obstacle was placed in the way of herself-sacrifice, an obstacle so great that it did not seem possible toovercome it. Was Judge Marriott's absence of her uncle's contriving? Itdid not seem probable, but she was in the mood to connect him with alldisaster, and when, on returning to the house, she learnt that Sir Johnwas there with Lady Bolsover, her suspicions seemed confirmed. Barbarawas the more determined to defeat his schemes. She would certainly havesent to Martin had she known where to find him, but as it was she wasobliged to act for herself.
Harriet Payne came at noon, with a sad and gloomy countenance.
"What is it?" Barbara asked. "Is there further and worse news?"
"No, nothing further."
"Your face has a wealth of trouble in it."
"Indeed, madam, and is it any wonder?" the girl asked. "I am sohelpless, and I could wish to be so strong. Every hour counts, and whatcan I do?"
"You have travelled far to ask my help, that is something."
"Yes, madam; but yesterday you gave me little hope, and even that littleis gone. In this matter you are as helpless as I am."
Barbara laughed, a little hardly perhaps, remembering in which directionher power lay.
"Had I been powerless, do you suppose your master would have sent you tome? I have had to decide whether I shall use that power."
"And you will use it?"
"I have already tried to do so this morning, and failed."
"Here? In London?"
"Yes. In which direction did you imagine my power lay?"
"I could not tell, but I thought--I thought it must be in Dorchesterwhere my master is a prisoner. Madam, there are powerful men in the Westwho may be bribed, who are being bribed every day. I thought it was withthem you would have to deal."
"The man I hoped to see in London is gone to the West," said Barbara.
"Then--"
"Yes, I intend to follow him, and at once. In this enterprise you willbe of more service to me than my own maid. Will you go with me?"
"Gladly, madam," and the girl's face brightened at once. "I have madethe journey to London more than once, and know that at the house wherethe coach stops a carriage and horses can be procured."
"You are beginning to make yourself useful at once," Barbara returned."Wait here for me. I have to give my maid instructions, and then we willstart without delay."
Barbara told her maid to be on the watch for Martin Fairley, and to tellhim that she had gone to Dorchester.
"He will understand why," she said; "and as I shall not want you withme, and yet do not want you to be questioned, you had better return tothe Abbey as soon as you have seen Martin. Be sure and do not let anyonehear you give the message."
The girl had friends in London, and asked if she might spend a day ortwo w
ith them before returning to Aylingford.
"It will fit my plan excellently," Barbara answered. "Leave this houseas soon as you possibly can after seeing Martin, and if your friendswill have you, stay with them until I send for you. You will be well outof the way of questions."
"No questions would make me betray you," said the girl.
"I know, but your face is a tell-tale one," Barbara answered. "You havethe virtue of not being able to lie easily."
The girl was honest, and it was no fault of hers that she failed todeliver her message to Martin Fairley. She saw him come to the house,and hurried down to him, meaning to catch him in the square and speak tohim where none could overhear her, and so carry out her mistress'sinstructions to the letter. But Fairley had departed quickly, and wasnowhere to be seen. For some time she waited for his return, and when hedid not come, thought it best to fulfil the other part of herinstructions and leave the house at once.
The servants at Lady Bolsover's knew nothing of Martin Fairley, not evenhis name. He had twice been admitted to see Mistress Lanison, but, forall the servants knew, he was some tradesman with whom she had dealings.Many such came to Lady Bolsover's. As Martin came to the door that dayone servant called to another to fetch a coach for Sir John Lanison,and, hearing that Sir John was in the house, Martin departed quickly,saying that he would come at a more convenient hour. He did not want SirJohn to know that he was in London, but he was curious to know upon whatmission Sir John had come to town. Here was an opportunity to satisfyhis curiosity which he had not counted upon, and he turned swiftly intothe first alley which presented itself, and waited. He was so intent onwatching for Sir John that he failed to notice Barbara's maid, who onher side was not anxious to attract too much attention either from thosewho might be at the windows of the house or from idlers in the square.
Fairley had to wait nearly an hour, and then Sir John came. He took nonotice of the coach, had no doubt given the servants some instructionsconcerning it, but walked leisurely across the square with the air of aman at peace with himself and all the world. Whatever plot might be onfoot, it had received no check, and Fairley argued the worst from thathandsome, smiling face.
"He is delighted with some great villainy," he said to himself as hecame from his hiding-place and followed him.
Sir John Lanison was conscious that some attention was paid to him as hepassed. He was a fine gentleman, and retained a little of thatold-fashioned grace which had been the admiration of the town a coupleof decades ago, when foolish women had looked upon him almost as a heroof romance, and men had thought twice before raising the anger of soaccomplished a swordsman. A remembrance of former triumphs, with perhapsa little sigh to keep it company, came to him as he went towards theHaymarket, but certainly no thought of Martin Fairley was in his mind.His destination was a hostelry where he was evidently known, and therewas a rush to do his bidding. He was travelling to Aylingford to-morrow,and must needs have the best coach and horses procurable. He was goingalone; yes, and would start at an early hour. His orders were receivedwith bows and much obsequiousness.
"Tell me, landlord, have you sent out a coach in that direction to-day?"
"Not to Aylingford, sir."
"But in that direction. The road does not only lead to the Abbey."
"Why, yes, sir; a coach started for the West early this afternoon," wasthe answer.
"In these days the traffic sets more this way," said Sir John. "Whatkind of passengers were they?"
"Two women; one closely veiled, but if her face were equal to herfigure, to hide it was cheating mortals out of a pleasure. The other wasa maid, a pert little baggage who ordered us about somewhat."
"Going to Exeter?"
"No, to Dorchester."
Sir John nodded, and the smile of satisfaction seemed permanent.
"You observe closely, landlord. I warrant you could describe themistress's clothing for all you were so ordered about by the maid."
The landlord grinned, and proved his observation by a somewhat closedescription.
"I get asked such questions sometimes," he said, "when a mistress runsaway, or a rebel makes hastily for the sea-coast and safety. It is wellto be observant."
Sir John laughed, and having demanded that the post-boys suppliedto-morrow should not be of the sort who see a highwayman in every brokentree trunk by the wayside, he departed.
The conversation had been overheard by a crowd of loafers in theadjoining room, who had suspended their drinking to watch this finegentleman to whom the landlord was so attentive. Then the clatter andconversation began again, and only one man was interested enough to seekfurther information. He had only entered a few moments ago; now heapproached the landlord.
"I heard your description just now; it interested me."
The landlord looked at Fairley from head to foot, and then brought hiseyes to bear keenly on his face.
"You are not known to me."
"But I am to the lady, unless I mistake not. You spoke of runawaymistresses, and truly I think that shot at a venture found its mark."
"You would follow her?"
"If your answer to a question or two satisfies me, I will ride withoutdelay the best horse you have."
The questions were asked, and Martin was so satisfied that he wasimpatient to be gone.
"So that I am well paid it's no odds to me," said the landlord. "I madethe lady no promise, and she's not the first who has grown tired of herhusband, nor will she be the last."
"She may thank you for giving me the information," Fairley answered."Ink and paper quickly, landlord; I must write a letter before I go."
By the time the horse was ready the letter was written.
"Find a messenger for this, landlord, and see that it is deliveredwithout delay. There is payment for the messenger; tell him he willreceive a like sum from the gentleman to whom this is addressed."
There was a certain awkwardness about Martin Fairley as he rode out ofthe yard, enough to show that he was not so accomplished a horseman assome men; yet he had improved in his riding since he had borne GilbertCrosby company from "The Jolly Farmers" that night.
The letter was delivered to Sydney Fellowes before Fairley had gone manymiles upon his journey.
"I believe Mistress Lanison is on her way to Dorchester, and I amfollowing," Fellowes read. "What plan is in her mind I cannot tell, butsince it seems to give Sir John much satisfaction, I argue that sometrap lies in the way. It is possible that I may be mistaken, so will yougo to Lady Bolsover's to-night and make sure that Mistress Lanison hasgone. If she has, and you can come, make all haste to Dorchester. Thereis a little tavern called 'The Anchor' in West Street. No one ofconsequence would use it, so you shall find word of me there."
Not many hours later Sydney Fellowes was also riding towards the West.