The Coquette's Victim Part 4

"False as the foul fiend himself," said the little man, in a rage.

"I knew it--I said so. Young men with twenty thousand a year do not steal. A likely story! What does it mean, then?"

"Some one who owes him an ill-turn has played this sorry jest upon him; but we shall pay him."

"He deserves transportation. I do not know a n.o.bler young fellow in all the world than Basil Carruthers." A fas.h.i.+onable carriage was standing at his office door when he reached it.

"The Countess of Northdown waiting to see you, sir," said the clerk.

Entering his private room he saw a lovely lady, fas.h.i.+onably attired, who greeted him with exquisite grace. Her face was very pale and her lips quivered as she spoke to him.

"Good morning, Mr. Forster. You will be surprised to see me, but knowing you are the family solicitor, I called to ask you if this shocking story about Mr. Carruthers is true."

"Heaven have mercy on me this day," thought the lawyer, "my soul is steeped in lies."

"Certainly not, Lady Northdown. Mr. Carruthers is abroad. The fact of the matter is, the prisoner resembles him, as a vile caricature does, at times, resemble the original, and some would-be wag who saw it, thought the writing of this absurd paragraph a great joke."

"He deserves shooting," said my lady, angrily.

"That may be his fate, when Mr. Carruthers catches him," was the grim reply.

"I told Lord Northdown it was all nonsense," she continued. "I am much obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Forster."

There was a rustle of silken robes, a stirring of sweet perfume, and then Lady Northdown was gone, only to be succeeded by another and another, until the lawyer gave himself up for lost on account of the many falsehoods he had told.

"Tomorrow my contradiction will set all this straight," he thought; "especially if it be followed by a letter from my lady, and I must compel her to write. I would as soon try to drive wild oxen as to persuade a Carruthers."

He was not able to start for Ulverston until the end of the afternoon.

It was full two hours' ride by rail from London, and all the way there the lawyer was worrying himself with conjectures, and trying to solve what he thought honestly the greatest mystery he had ever known.

It was six o'clock on a bright May evening when he reached Ulverston.

He ordered a fly, and drove at once to the Priory. More than half that busy town of Rutsford belonged to the Carruthers. They were lords of the manor, masters of the soil. To them belonged also the fertile lands, the profitable farms, the hop gardens, and broad meadows that stretched between Rutsford and the Priory.

As the lawyer drove through this rich inheritance, his wonder increased.

What could possess any man blessed with such a birthright to place himself in so false and degraded a position?

Then the carriage entered the Ulverston woods, said by connoisseurs to be the finest and most picturesque in England. Such a glorious sight on this May evening as made the lawyer's heart beat, though many years had pa.s.sed since the fountain of poetry flowed for him. The hawthorn and chestnut trees were all in flower; the maple and ash wore their most luxuriant foliage. The grand old oaks in their leafy boughs concealed myriads of singing birds; underneath the shade of the trees, the blue hyacinths stretched out like the waves of the azure sea, the violets hid their modest heads, great golden primroses shone like stars from the midst of green leaves. The air was sweet and warm; the music of the birds and the whispers of the wind were full of melody.

"A man possessed of all this," thought Mr. Forster again; "he must be mad."

Then the carriage stopped before the grand entrance of one of the most magnificent mansions in England. Ulverston Priory--whose beauty has been described, in prose and in verse, by pens more eloquent than mine.

"Is Lady Carruthers at home?" asked Mr. Forster of the stately old butler.

"My lady is at home, sir."

"Will you ask if it is convenient for me to see her? I have come hastily from London on important business."

With all the solemnity an old family retainer displays on such occasions, the butler led the way to the library.

"I will send your message to my lady at once, sir."

He went away and soon returned.

"My lady is dressing, but she will be with you in a few minutes." He placed a decanter of the famous Ulverston sherry on the table, and withdrew. Mr. Forster gladly helped himself to a gla.s.s. "I would take that or anything else to give me courage," he said to himself. "How am I to tell her? I know not."

In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and a stately lady, magnificently dressed, entered the room. She was very dignified, of queenly presence and bearing, with the remains of great beauty in her face.

She bowed most courteously to the lawyer, and held out her white, jeweled hand.

"Good evening, Mr. Forster," she said; "your visit has taken me by surprise. You are well. I hope?"

"Quite well, Lady Carruthers, myself. Quite well, I thank you."

But his manner was so confused, his face so flushed, that the stately lady looked at him in wonder.

"And my son, Mr. Forester! Have you seen him lately? Have you left him well?"

"He was in perfect health, Lady Carruthers, when I saw him last,"

replied the lawyer, stiffly.

"I am glad of it. I have no wish to complain, but I have not heard from my son lately. He has not time to write, I suppose."

"There will be no use in beating about the bush," the lawyer thought. "I had better speak plainly at once."

"Lady Carruthers," he said, "have you seen today's 'Times'?"

"No," she replied; "I have been so deeply engaged with visitors, I have really not opened it."

"Then I must ask you to prepare yourself for something very disagreeable. I wish I knew how to save you from the knowledge--but I do not."

The diamond necklace rose and fell as though she breathed heavily; her face grew quite white.

"Does it concern my son, Mr. Carruthers?" she asked.

"Alas, that I must say yes, Lady Carruthers," he answered; "I am not a man of sentiment, but I would give many years of my life to spare you this pain."

"Is he dead?" she asked, hoa.r.s.ely.

"No, it is not so bad as that," he replied.

"Not death; and I know it is not disgrace. I can bear what you have to tell me, Mr. Forster."

He took both papers from his pocket and laid them before her.

"Read this paragraph first," he said; "and then this."