CHAPTER X.
THE PLAN OF RETALIATION.
It was in the south hall that he found himself, having fled throughthe west door of the parlor, forgetful that his hat still remained onthe table. He naturally continued his retreat up the stairs to hischamber. The only belongings that he had to get there were his brokensword, his scabbard, and belt. These he promptly buckled on, resolvedto leave the house forthwith.
Still tingling from the blow of her words, he yet felt a great reliefthat the task was so soon over, and that her speedy action had sparedhim the labor of the long explanation he had thought to make. Asmatters stood, they could not be improved. Her love had turned tohate, in the twinkling of an eye.
And yet, how preposterously she had accounted for his conduct!Dwelling on his hint, though it was checked at its utterance, that shewas already bound, she had assumed that he held out her engagement toColden as a barrier to their love. And she believed, or pretended tobelieve, that his regard for that barrier arose from fear of invitinga rival's vengeance! As if he, who daily risked his life, could fearthe vengeance of a man whom he had already once defeated with thesword! It was like a woman to alight first on the most absurdpossibility the situation could imply. And if she knew the conjecturewas absurd, she was the more guilty of affront in crying it outagainst him. He, in turn, was now moved to anger. He would not havefalse motives imputed to him. It would be useless to talk to her whileher present mood continued. But he could write, and leave the letterwhere it would be found. Inasmuch as he had faced the worst storm hisdisclosure could have aroused, there was no cowardice in resorting toa letter with such explanations as could not be brought to her mind inany other form. Two days previously, he had requested writingmaterials in his room, for the sketching of a report of his beingwounded, and these were still on a table by the window. He lightedcandles, and sat down to write.
When he had finished his document, sealed and addressed it, he laid iton the table, where it would attract the eye of a servant, and lookedaround for his hat. Presently he recalled that he had left it in theparlor. He first thought of seeking a servant, and sending for it,lest he might meet Elizabeth, should he again enter the parlor. But itwould be better to face her, for a moment, than to give an order to aservant of a house whence he had been ordered out. And now, as heintended to go into the parlor, he would preferably leave the letterin that room, where it would perhaps reach her own eyes before anyother's could fall on it. He therefore took up the letter, thrust itfor the time in his belt, descended quietly to the south hall,cautiously opened the parlor door, peeped through the crack, saw withrelief that only Miss Sally was in the room, threw the door wide, andstrode quickly towards the table on which he thought he had left hishat.
But, as he approached, he saw that the hat was not there.
In the meantime, during the few minutes he had spent in his room,things had been occurring in this parlor. As soon as Peyton had leftit, or had been carried out of it by the resistless current ofElizabeth's invective, the girl had turned her anger on herself, forhaving weakened to this man, made him her hero, indulged in thosedreams! She could scarcely contain herself. Having mechanically pickedup her cloak, where Peyton had let it fall, she evinced a suddenunendurable sense of her humiliation and folly, by hurling the cloakwith violence across the room. At that moment old Mr. Valentineentered, placidly seeking his pipe, which he had left behind him.
The octogenarian looked surprisedly at the cloak, then at Elizabeth,then mildly asked her if she had seen his pipe.
"Oh, the cowardly wretch!" was Elizabeth's answer, her feelingsforcing a release in speech.
"What, me?" asked the old man, startled, not yet having thought toconnect her words with his last interview with the American officer.He looked at her for a moment, but, receiving no satisfaction, calmlyrefilled, from a leather pouch, his pipe, which he had found on themantel.
Elizabeth's thoughts began to take more distinct shape, and, in orderto formulate them the more accurately, she spoke them aloud to the oldman, finding it an assistance to have a hearer, though she supposedhim unable to understand.
"Yet he wasn't a coward that evening he rode to attack the Hessians,--norwhen he was wounded,--nor when he stood here waiting to be taken! He wasno coward then, was he, Mr. Valentine?" Getting no answer, andirritated at the old man's owl-like immovability, she repeated, withvehemence, "Was he?"
Mr. Valentine had, by this time, begun to put things together in hismind.
"No. To be sure," he chirped, and then lighted his pipe with a smallfagot from the fireplace, an operation that required a good deal oftime.
Elizabeth now spoke more as if to herself. "Perhaps, after all, I maybe wrong! Yes, what a fool, to forget all the proofs of his courage!What a blind imbecile, to think him afraid! It must be that he actsfrom a delicate conception of honor. He would not encroach whereanother had the prior claim. He considers Colden in the matter. That'sit, don't you think?"
"Of course," said Valentine, blindly, not having paid attention tothis last speech, and sitting down in his armchair.
"I can understand now," she went on. "He did not know of my engagementthat time he made love, when his life was at stake."
"Then he's told you all about it?" said the old man, beginning to takesome interest, now that he had provided for his own comfort.
"About what?" asked Elizabeth, showing a woman's consistency, in beingsurprised that he seemed to know what she had been addressing himabout.
"About pretending he loved you,--to save his life," replied Mr.Valentine, innocently, considering that her supposed acquaintance withthe whole secret made him free to discuss it with her.
Elizabeth's astonishment, unexpected as it was by him, surprised theold man in turn, and also gave him something of a fright. So the twostared at each other.
"Pretending he loved me!" she repeated, reflectively. "Pretending! Tosave his life! _Now I see!_" The effect of the revelation on heralmost made Mr. Valentine jump out of his chair. "For only _I_ couldsave him!" she went on. "There was no other way! Oh, _how_ I have beenfooled! I--tricked by a miserable rebel! Made a laughing-stock! Oh, tothink he did not really love me, and that I--Oh, I shall choke! Sendsome one to me,--Molly, aunt Sally, any one! Go! Don't sit theregazing at me like an owl! Go away and send some one!"
Mr. Valentine, glad of reason for an honorable retreat from thiswhirlwind that threatened soon to fill the whole room, departed withas much activity as he could command.
"Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" Elizabeth asked of the airaround her. "I must repay him for his duplicity. I shall never rest amoment till I do! What an easy dupe he must think me! Oh-h-h!"
She brought her hand violently down on the table but fortunatelystruck something comparatively soft. In her fury, she clutched thissomething, raised it from the table, and saw what it was.
"_His_ hat!" she cried, and made to throw it into the fire, but, witha woman's aim, sent it flying towards the door, which was at thatinstant opened by her aunt, who saved herself by dodging mostundignifiedly.
"What is it, my dear?" asked Miss Sally, in a voice of mingledwonderment and fear.
"I'll pay him back, be sure of that!" replied Elizabeth, who was bythis time a blazing-eyed, scarlet-faced embodiment of fury, and hadthrown off all reserve.
"Pay whom back?" tremblingly inquired Miss Sally, with vagueapprehensions for the safety of old Mr. Valentine, who had so recentlyleft her niece.
"Your charming captain, your gentleman rebel, your gallant soldier,your admirable Peyton, hang him!" cried Elizabeth.
"_My_ Peyton? I only wish he was!" sighed the aunt, surprised into theconfession by Elizabeth's own outspokenness.
"You're welcome to him, when I've had my revenge on him! Oh, auntSally, to think of it! He doesn't love me! He only pretended, so thatI would save his life! But he shall see! I'll deliver him up to thetroops, after all!"
"Oh, no!" said Miss Sally, deprecatingly. Great as was the newsconveyed to her by Elizabeth'
s speech, she comprehended it, andadjusted her mind to it, in an instant, her absence of outwarddemonstration being due to the very bigness of the revelation, towhich any possible outside show of surprise would be inadequate andhence useless. Moreover, Elizabeth gave no time for manifestations.
"No," the girl went on. "You are right. He's able-bodied now, andmight be a match for all the servants. Besides, 'twould come out why Ishielded him, and I should be the laugh o' the town. Oh, _how_ shall Ipay him? How shall I make him _feel_--ah! I know! I'll give him sixfor half a dozen! I'll make _him_ love _me_, and then I'll cast himoff and laugh at him!"
She was suddenly as jubilant at having hit on the project as if shehad already accomplished it.
"Make him love you?" repeated her aunt, dubiously. Her aunt had herown reasons for doubting the possibility of such an achievement.
"Perhaps you think I can't!" cried Elizabeth. "Wait and see! But,heavens! He's going away,--he won't come back,--perhaps he's gone! No,there's his hat!" She ran and picked it up from the corner of thedoorway. "He won't go without his hat. He'll have to come here for it.He went to his room for his sword. He'll be here at any moment."
And she paced the floor, holding the hat in one hand, and lapsing tothe level of ordinary femininity as far as to adjust her hair with theother.
"You'll have to make quick work of it, Elizabeth, dear," said theaunt, with gentle irony, "if he's going to-night."
"I know, I know,--but I can't do it looking like this." She laid thehat on the table, in order to employ both hands in the arrangement ofher hair. "If I only had on my satin gown! By the lord Harry, I have amind--I will! When he comes in here, keep him till I return. Keep himas if your life depended on it." She went quickly towards the door ofthe east hall.
"But, Elizabeth!" cried Miss Sally, appalled. "Wait! How--"
"How?" echoed Elizabeth, turning near the door. "By hook or crook! Youmust think of a way! I have other things on my mind. Only keep himtill I come back. If you let him go, I'll never speak to you again!And not a word to him of what I've told you! I sha'n't be long."
"But what are you going to do?" asked the aunt, despairingly.
"Going to arm myself for conquest! To put on my war-paint!" And thegirl hastened through the doorway, crossed the hall, called Molly, andran up-stairs to her room.
Miss Sally stood in the parlor, a prey to mingled feelings. She didnot dare refuse the task thrown on her by her imperative niece. Notonly her niece's anger would be incurred by the refusal, but also theniece's insinuations that the aunt was not sufficiently clever for thetask. However difficult, the thing must be attempted. And, which madematters worse, even if the attempt should succeed, it would be arewardless one to Miss Sally. If she might detain the captain forherself, the effort would be worth making. The aunt sighed deeply,shook her head distressfully, and then, reverting to a keen sense ofElizabeth's rage and ridicule in the event of failure, looked wildlyaround for some suggestion of means to hold the officer. Her eyealighted on the hat.
"He won't go without his hat, a night like this!" she thought. "I'llhide his hat."
She forthwith possessed herself of it, and explored the room for ahiding-place. She decided on one of the little narrow closets ineither side of the doorway to the east hall, and started towards it,holding the hat at her right side. Before she had come within fourfeet of the chosen place, she heard the door from the south hall beingthrown open, and, casting a swift glance over her left shoulder, sawthe captain step across the threshold. She choked back her sensations,and gave inward thanks that the hat was hidden from his sight byherself. Peyton walked briskly towards the table.
Suddenly he stopped short, and turned his eyes from the table to MissSally, whose back was towards him.
"Ah, Miss Williams," said he, politely but hastily, "I left my hathere somewhere."
"Indeed?" said Miss Sally, amazed at her own unconsciousness, whileshe tried to moderate the beating of her heart. At the same moment,she turned and faced him, bringing the hat around behind her so thatit should remain unseen.
Peyton looked from her to the spinet, thence to the sofa, thence backto the table.
"Yes, on the table, I thought. Perhaps--" He broke off here, and wentto look on the mantel.
Miss Sally, who had never thought the captain handsomer, and whosmarted under the sense of being deterred, by her niece's purpose,from employing this opportunity to fascinate him on her own account,continued to turn so as to face him in his every change of place.
"I don't see it anywhere," she said, with childlike innocence.
Peyton searched the mantel, then looked at the chairs, and againbrought his eyes to bear on Miss Sally. She blinked once or twice, butdid not quail.
"'Tis strange!" he said. "I'm sure I left it in this room."
And he went again over all the ground he had already examined. MissSally utilized the times when his back was turned, in making a searchof her own, the object of which was a safe place where she couldquickly deposit the hat without attracting his attention.
Peyton was doubly annoyed at this enforced delay in his departure,since Elizabeth might come into the parlor at any time, and themeeting occur which he had, for a moment, hoped to avoid.
"Would you mind helping me look for it?" said he. "I'm in great hasteto be gone. Do me the kindness, madam, will you not?"
"Why, yes, with pleasure," she answered, thinking bitterly howtransported she would be, in other circumstances, at such anopportunity of showing her readiness to oblige him.
Her aid consisted in following him about, looking in each place wherehe had looked the moment before, and keeping the sought-for objectclose behind her.
Suddenly he turned about, with such swiftness that she almost cameinto collision with him.
"It must have fallen to the floor," said he.
"Why, yes, we never thought of looking there, did we?" And shefollowed him through another tour of the room, turning her avertedhead from side to side in pretendedly ranging the floor with hereyes.
"I know," he said, with the elation of a new conjecture. "It must bebehind something!"
Miss Sally gasped, but in an instant recovered herself sufficiently tosay:
"Of course. It surely _must_ be--behind something."
Harry went and looked behind the spinet, then examined the smallspaces between other objects and the wall. This search was longer thanany he had made before, as some of the pieces of furniture had to bemoved slightly out of position.
Miss Sally felt her proximity to the object of this search becomingunendurable. She therefore profited by Peyton's present occupation toconduct pretended endeavors towards the closet west of the fireplace.She noiselessly opened one of the narrow doors, quickly tossed the hatinside, closed the door, and turned with ineffable relief towardsPeyton.
To her consternation she found him looking at her.
"What are you doing there?" he asked.
"Why,--looking in this closet," she stammered, guiltily.
"Oh, no, it couldn't be in there," said Peyton, lightly. "But, yes.One of the servants might have laid it on the shelf." And he made forthe closet.
"Oh, no!"
Miss Sally stood against the closet doors and held out her hands toward him off.
"No harm to look," said he, passing around her and putting his hand onthe door.
Miss Sally felt that, by remaining in the position of a physicalobstacle to his opening the closet, she would betray all. Acting onthe inspiration of the instant, she ran to the centre of the room, andcried:
"Oh, come away! Come here!" and essayed a well-meant, but feeble andabortive, scream.
"What's the matter?" asked Peyton, astonished.
"Oh, I'm going to faint!" she said, feigning a sinkiness of the kneesand a floppiness of the head.
"Oh, pray don't faint!" cried Peyton, running to support her. "Ihaven't time. Let me call some one. Let me help you to the sofa."
By this time he held her in his arms, and was thinking her an
othersort of burden than Tom Jones found Sophia, or Clarissa was toRoderick Random.
The lady shrank with becoming and genuine modesty from the contact,gently repelled him with her hands, saying, "No, I'm better now,--butcome," and took him by the arm to lead him further from the fatalcloset.
But Peyton immediately released his arm.
"Ah, thank you for not fainting!" he said, with complete sincerity,and stalked directly back to the closet. Before she could think of anew device, he had opened the door, beheld the hat, and seized it intriumph. "By George, I was right! I bid you farewell, Miss Williams!"He very civilly saluted her with the hat, and turned towards the westdoor of the parlor.
Must, then, all her previous ingenuity be wasted? After having so farexerted herself, must she suffer the ignominious consequences offailure?
She ran to intercept him. Desperation gave her speed, and she reachedthe west door before he did. She closed it with a bang, and stood withher back against it. "No, no!" she cried. "You mustn't!"
"Mustn't what?" asked Peyton, surprised as much by her distractedeyes, panting nostrils, and heaving bosom, as by her act itself.
"Mustn't go out this way. Mustn't open this door," she answered,wildly.
He scrutinized her features, as if to test a sudden suspicion ofmadness. In a moment he threw off this conjecture as unlikely.
"But," said he, putting forth his hand to grasp the knob of the door.
"You mustn't, I say!" she cried. "I can't help it! Don't blame me forit! Don't ask me to explain, but you must not go out this way!"
She stood by her task now from a new motive, one that impelled morestrongly than her fear of being reproached and derided by Elizabeth.Her own self-esteem was enlisted, and she was now determined not toincur her own reproach and derision. She perceived, too, with asentimental woman's sense of the dramatic, that, though denied a dramaof her own in which she might figure as heroine, here was, inanother's drama, a scene entirely hers, and she was resolved to act itout with honor. Circumstances had not favored her with a romance, buthere, in another's romance, was a chapter exclusively hers, a chapter,moreover, on whose proper termination the very continuation of theromance depended. So she would hold that door, at any cost.
Peyton regarded her for another moment of silence.
"Oh, well," said he, at last, "I can go the other way."
And, to her dismay, he strode towards the door of the east hall. Shecould not possibly outrun him thither. Her heart sank. The killingsense of failure benumbed her body. He was already at the door,--wasabout to open it. At that instant he stepped back into the parlor. Inthrough the doorway, that he was about to traverse, came Elizabeth.