CHAPTER XVIII
A MIRACLE
That same afternoon Raston notified the vicar that he was going for afew days to London. On the understanding that the young man would beback for morning service on Sunday, the vicar readily consented that heshould go. Raston forthwith packed his bag, and driving to Portfrontstayed there the night. But for Sybil's message he would have waiteduntil the next day, and have gone directly to London without pausing onthe way. However, he wished to have a talk with Leo, both on account ofSybil's message and because he wanted to consult with the young manabout the letter which worried him. This entailed a long conversation,so Raston put up at the hotel at which Leo was staying, and sent amessage that he wanted to see Mr Haverleigh.
Leo made his appearance, looking haggard and worried, and very muchunlike his usual self. He seemed nervous on seeing Raston, and hurriedlyapproached him as though he expected to hear bad news. The events of thelast few weeks had shaken Leo's nerves, and he was prepared for anycalamity--even to hear that Pratt had been arrested. Something of thesort he expected to hear now.
"Hullo, Raston!" he cried, with an affectation of brightness. "Whatbrings you here?"
"I am on my way to London," said Raston, shaking hands in a friendlyfashion, "and I am staying here for the night, as I want to have a longtalk with you."
"Very glad," replied Leo, mechanically. Then after a pause he raised hishead. "There is no bad news, I trust?" he asked anxiously.
"By no means. My news is good."
"Then it cannot concern me," said Leo, bitterly. "No good news evercomes my way now. What is it?"
"I'll tell you after dinner."
"No; tell me now! I can't wait. I am so anxious and worried that my mindcannot bear suspense."
"You brood too much on things," said Raston. "However, the matter isvery simple. Miss Tempest wants you to return at once to Colester."
"What for? Has her father discovered anything bad about me?"
Raston laughed. "No. You are getting morbid on the subject--the result,I suppose, of your late experience of man's injustice. If you will sitdown I will tell you what she asked me to say. It is a long story."
"An agreeable one, I hope," muttered Leo, dropping dejectedly into achair. "I really cannot bear much more worry without going to chuckmyself into the water."
"Haverleigh," said the curate, severely, "that is an ungrateful way tospeak, after the mercy God has shown you. Has he not brought youthrough much tribulation, and set your feet on a rock of safety!"
"Well, there are two answers to that, Raston. However, I'll try andbehave myself while you tell me what Sybil said."
Raston sighed. Not knowing Leo's worry, he was beginning to think himwrong to behave as he did. Still, this was not the time to preach, and,unlike most clergymen, Raston knew where to stop. He sat down near Leoand related the whole story of Lord Kilspindie and his loss. Then hedetailed Sybil's idea that Kilspindie might do something for the youngman. "And if your future is arranged you can then be married."
"I shall never be married, Raston," said Leo, gloomily. "If youknew--But I must keep my own counsel. What takes you to London?" heasked suddenly. "You are such a home bird that there must be some strongreason."
"The very strongest," replied the curate, drawing a letter out of hispocket. "But first you must promise to hold your tongue about what I amgoing to tell you."
Leo nodded. "I have too many unpleasant secrets of my own not to keepthose of others," he said. "Well, what's up?"
"Read this letter from Pratt."
"Pratt!" Haverleigh took the letter hurriedly. "Why, what is he writingto you about?" He cast his eyes over the letter. It was to the effectthat Pratt would be glad to see Raston at a certain place in London tospeak with him about the cup which had been lost. It asked the curate tokeep the contents of the letter a secret, or at all events to tell onlyLeo Haverleigh. Also, it warned Raston that if he behaved treacherously,and brought down the police on Pratt, that there would be the devil topay. These last words were underlined and shocked the curate. The timeand place of the appointment were also underlined, and from the way inwhich the meeting was arranged Leo could see that his father hadcontrived to see Raston without running the risk of arrest.
"I wonder what he wants to see you about!" said Leo, handing back theletter and speaking uneasily. He fancied that Pratt might be going toreveal to Raston the secret of his own paternity.
"About the cup," said Raston, returning the letter to his pocket. "Isuppose he is about to give it back to us again. Not that it will everbe used again for so sacred a purpose. I shall take it and return it toLord Kilspindie. That is only right, as the cup was stolen from him."
"Ah, I forgot! You think that Pratt has the cup?" said Leo.
"He has. Do you not remember the letter he wrote to Marton saying he hadstolen the cup and again had it in his possession?"
"I remember; but that was one of Pratt's fairy tales."
"How do you know?" asked Raston, astonished. "Has he written to you?"
"No. I have seen him."
"In London?"
"In Colester."
Raston pushed back his chair and stared at his friend. "When did you seehim in Colester?" he asked, open-mouthed.
"A few days ago." Leo pondered for a moment while Raston stared at him.He wondered if it would not be as well to make a confidant of thecurate, and ask his advice. The secret was rapidly becoming too much forhim to bear alone. Raston was his friend, a good fellow, and a wiseyoung man. Certainly it would be well to confide in him. Leo made up hismind. "I have to tell you something that will astonish you. I speak inconfidence, Raston."
"Anything you tell me will be sacred," replied the curate, with dignity.
Leo nodded, quite satisfied with this assurance. Then he related allthat had taken place in the castle on that night when he had discoveredMrs Gabriel and Pratt in company. Raston fairly gasped with surprise asthe recital proceeded, and when Leo confessed that Pratt claimed him asa son he sprang from his seat.
"I don't believe a word of it!" he cried, bringing his fist down on thetable. "The man is a vile liar. Whomsoever you may be, Leo, you arecertainly not the son of this wretch. Can a bad tree bear good fruit?No."
"But he can give me proofs."
"He has not done so yet. Let me speak to him, Leo. I may be able to getmore out of him than you. I am your friend, you know that! so if youwill place the matter in my hands, I promise to find out the truthsomehow."
"Well," said Leo, with some hesitation, "I rather thought of coming withyou to London. Pratt expects me."
"He has not written to that effect," said Raston. "I tell you, Leo, theman is dangerous and unscrupulous. The fact that he claims you as hisson will prevent you dealing freely with him. I can manage him bettermyself. You go back to Colester and Miss Tempest. It is but right thatyou should do what she wishes, as she has held by you in your time oftrouble. Besides, I quite approve of her wish to introduce you to LordKilspindie. And if--oh!--" Raston stopped short.
"What's the matter, Raston?"
"Suppose you should be the long-lost son of Lord Kilspindie?"
"Ridiculous!" said Leo, shaking his head and flushing.
"It is no more ridiculous than that you should be the son of athief--or, rather, believe yourself to be so. Why should you believe thebad and doubt the good? See here, Leo"--Raston was much excited--"thecup was lost along with the child. Pratt has the cup, why should you notbe the child? The woman who stole both might have died and passed themon to Pratt. For his own purposes he says that he is your father."
"I can't believe it, Raston," said Leo, shaking his head.
"Well; disbelieve it if you choose. If the thing is so, what you thinkwill not alter it. All I ask is that you should let me represent you atthis interview. I have to see Pratt on my own account. Let me see him onyours."
"Very good, Raston. You can do what you like. I am greatly obliged toyou for the trouble you are taking."
"I
ndeed, it is only right, Leo," protested the curate. "I begin to seethat you have been wronged. I may not be right in my surmise about yourbeing the son of Kilspindie. But I am sure that I am correct in sayingyou are not the son of that scoundrel. Now, go back to Colester, holdyour tongue, and wait till I come back on Saturday."
"I'll do as you wish," said Leo, sadly; "but indeed I have no hope."
"I have," said the curate, emphatically, and the conversation ended.
The next day Raston departed by the steamer to London, _via_ Worthing,and Leo returned to his old quarters at the Colester Arms. His meetingwith the curate had done him good, and although he did not adhere toRaston's theory about his noble paternity, yet he felt more cheerful andhopeful. He was particular as to his toilet, which, in his despair, hehad rather neglected of late, and went to the Vicarage. Sybil was awaywith Pearl on the moor, the servant said. Leo would have followed, butMr Tempest caught sight of him, and insisted that he should enter andbe introduced to Lord Kilspindie. Leo willingly obeyed, as he wasanxious to see his supposed father according to Raston. He could nothelp smiling when he was presented.
Kilspindie was taken by that smile. He saw before him a singularlysplendid young man, with a graceful, slender figure and a handsome face,but best of all was the kindly look in the eyes. Kilspindie shook handsheartily with Leo, and sighed as he thought that his lost son might bejust such another. Had he known of what Raston and the young man beforehim had talked about on the previous night, he might have been moreparticular in his inquiries, and might perchance have been brought tothink as Raston did. However, he knew nothing, Leo said nothing, and theconversation resolved itself into the common-place. Tempest was kind toLeo, Kilspindie was friendly, and the three got on very well.
Meanwhile, Sybil and Pearl were walking across the moor. After a timethey stopped at the turf altar erected by the mad girl, and sheexplained to her companion the reason she had made such a place.
"The Master is angry with poor Pearl now," she said sadly, "and He hastaken the sacred cup from her. She is not good enough to keep it. Butwhen the Master is pleased, and will save Pearl from the Pit"--sheshuddered--"He will place the cup on this altar, and Pearl will bring itback to the chapel. Then she will be saved and happy."
"But, Pearl, you must not think of God in this way. He is your Father,and He loves you."
"He _did_ love Pearl, but He made her ill, and Mrs Jeal told Pearl thatshe was wicked and in danger of the Worm."
"Pearl! Pearl! Do not believe that. Mrs Jeal is wrong. God loves you!"
"Why, then, did He make Pearl ill if He loved her? And why did He takeaway the Holy Grail which Pearl watched over so carefully?"
"He did not take it away," said Sybil, hardly knowing what reply tomake.
"Yes, He did," persisted the poor, mad creature. "Pearl was not goodenough to keep it. But when she is good the cup will come down to earthagain."
"Do you think it is in heaven now, Pearl?"
"I am sure it is. No roof here to stop the cup from floating up to theNew Jerusalem. In the chapel it would have stayed, because the bad roofkept it down, but here it went up and up and up to the sky."
Sybil did not know what to make of this talk. She soothed the girl asmuch as she could and tried to bring her back to that old happy state ofmind which Mrs Jeal had destroyed with her gloomy Calvinistic creed. Butit was all of no use. Only the restoration of the cup would make Pearlbelieve that she was good again. However, Sybil induced her to talk ofother things, of birds and flowers, and the poor creature was in aquieter state of mind when Sybil brought her back to the cottage.
"I go every morning to the altar," said Pearl, as she went inside. "Thecup will come back when the Master is sorry for Pearl."
At this moment Mrs Jeal pulled her into the house and scolded her forbeing away. When she saw Sybil she became more civil, but still behavedin a covertly insolent manner. Sybil grew angry.
"You have behaved very wickedly in putting these ideas into Pearl'shead, Mrs Jeal," she said severely. "The poor creature is notresponsible. She does not understand."
"She understands more than you give her credit for, miss," retorted MrsJeal, coolly, "and she is not fit to be left alone. But when I go away Ishall put her in an asylum."
"Indeed, you will do nothing of the sort!" cried Miss Tempest,indignantly. "The poor thing would die. Liberty is all in all to her.When are you going away?"
"I go with Sir Frank Hale, miss. I am going to be the maid of hissister."
"I heard Sir Frank was leaving Colester," said Sybil, coldly, "and Ithink it is the best thing he can do. When does he go, Mrs Jeal?"
"In a week, miss. I have got a good situation, miss, and I do not wantto be burdened with Pearl. She must go to an asylum."
"No, no! I shall take charge of her myself," said Sybil. "You leave herto me, Mrs Jeal, and I'll look after her."
"Well, I might, miss; I'll see." Then, after a pause, Mrs Jeal asked,"About that gentleman at your place, miss--will he stay long?"
"Only till the end of the week. I suppose you mean Lord Kilspindie?"
Mrs Jeal's wicked eyes blazed. "Yes, I mean him," she said, and gave anunpleasant laugh. "Oh! so he goes at the end of the week! Well, miss,before I take up my situation with Miss Hale, I'll come and see youabout Pearl. If you could take her I should be glad, but you'll find hera nuisance."
"I don't think so," said Sybil, coldly. "When will you call?"
"After the departure of Lord Kilspindie," said Mrs Jeal, with anotherwicked look, and went into the house. Sybil departed, wondering why thewoman had asked about Lord Kilspindie, and why she seemed afraid to meethim. Had she been clever enough, she might have guessed the truth. As itwas the matter passed out of her mind.
After this there were some very pleasant evenings at the Vicarage. Leofelt almost happy, in spite of his troubles. He could not as yet bringhimself to tell Sybil that he could never marry her. Besides, he washoping against hope that Raston would bring back some good news fromLondon. Not, indeed, that he (Leo Haverleigh) was the lost son of LordKilspindie--that such good fortune should be his never entered Leo'shead--but that Pratt was not his father. Leo felt that he would ratherbe proved to be illegitimate, as Mrs Gabriel had told the vicar he was,than have such a father as the criminal, Pratt. Yet, at times he feltsorry for the man. It was certain that he had in him some goodqualities. But whenever Leo thought of him as his father, he becameenraged against him. The thing was too horrible.
Lord Kilspindie took wonderfully to Leo, and this the vicar was pleasedto see. Owing to Leo's want of an honest name, he could not bringhimself to consent to the marriage, so he hoped that the Scotch lordmight take a fancy to the young man and carry him off. Thus Sybil wouldbe safe, and Leo would be provided for. Mr Tempest had evidentlyforgotten his own youth, or he would have remembered that loving heartsare not so easily severed. Leo and Sybil loved one another too well foraught to come between them.
On Saturday night Raston returned. It was so late that Leo had notexpected him, so they did not meet until the next morning. Then it wason the way to church.
"Well," Leo asked eagerly, "and what does my--what does Pratt say?"
"I'll tell you after service," said Raston, hastily. "At present I can'tthink of these things."
"But one word, Raston," urged Leo. "Is Pratt my father?"
"No," replied the curate, emphatically, "he is not." And before Leocould ask another question he ran off. Filled with joy at theintelligence, but much bewildered, Leo went to church to offer upthanks.
Kilspindie was also in church, and with Sybil, in the vicar's pew. MrTempest allowed Raston to preach, as had been arranged, and took a veryminor part in the service. Indeed, he did little else but read thelessons. The church was filled, as everyone was anxious to see LordKilspindie. Mrs Bathurst was there, wondering if his lordship could beinduced to marry Peggy. She quite forgot that she had promised herdaughter's hand to the curate, and was already scheming to get at theold nobleman. That he
_was_ old did not matter to Mrs Bathurst. Shewould have sold her daughter to anyone, provided the match was a goodone. And, curious to say, she would have considered that she had doneher duty as a mother. Her moral nature was decidedly warped.
The service was almost over, and the church-wardens were handing roundthe bags for the collection when a sweet voice was heard singing in thedistance. Everyone recognised the voice--it was Pearl's--and the vicar,kneeling at the communion table, looked rather disturbed. He knew theeccentric ways of the girl, and he feared lest she might come in anddistract the attention of the congregation. And his fears werefulfilled--Pearl, still singing, entered the church. The scandalisedchurch-wardens would have kept her out, but that she bore somethingwhich made them open their eyes. The congregation also became aware ofPearl's burden, and a gasp of astonishment went round. Still singingsome wild, vague melody, the mad girl walked slowly up the aisle,bearing the sacred cup.
Lord Kilspindie did not see her until she was almost at the chancelsteps. He then gave a cry of astonishment, in spite of the building andthe occasion. Surely he might have been pardoned, for the fairy cupupon which depended the fortunes of the Grants glittered before hiseyes. There was a dead silence. Everyone was too astonished to speak ormove. The vicar himself was staring from the communion table at thismiracle. But Raston, who had come down to receive the collection, stoodquietly waiting till the girl reached him. She came up singing, placedthe great gold cup in his hand and fell on her knees.
"The Master has forgiven Pearl," she said in a voice which could beheard all over the church. "_She_ is saved and the cup will be here towatch over for ever and ever. Amen. Amen." And she bowed her face in herhands.
Raston paused for a moment in hesitation and glanced at the vicar, thenat Lord Kilspindie. Then he made up his mind, and walking up to thealtar, placed the cup in its old position. And there it glittered, allgold and gems, with the sunlight striking down on it, until it becamealmost too glorious to look upon. Lord Kilspindie stared, with tears inhis eyes. The cup would be his again and he would soon have his son. Henever doubted but that the restoration of the one was the prelude to thediscovery of the other.
Raston pronounced the Benediction and the organ broke forth intojubilant music. Shortly the congregation streamed out. Everyone was muchexcited. The old nobleman came out with Sybil, and they waited at theporch for the vicar. Leo also was with them.
Suddenly a woman broke through the crowd in the churchyard. It was MrsJeal, and she was seeking Pearl. In her haste she never noticed LordKilspindie, until she almost ran into his arms. Suddenly he saw herface, started, and made one stride forward to clutch her by the arm.
"The cup and then the heir!" he said loudly, while all looked on amazed."Janet Grant, where is my son, Lord Morven!"