Sword and Gown Part 12

Sails rent and cordage strained tell tales of many storm-gusts, or, perchance, of one tornado; and see! her flag is flying half-mast high: the corpse of the Pilot is on board. Let us stand aside, lest we meet the pa.s.sengers as they land. It were worse than mockery to ask how the yachting trip has sped.

Miss Tresilyan rode somewhat in advance of the rest, under her brother's escort. d.i.c.k was a model in his own line, and other brothers-of-beauties might well imitate his moderation and discretion. He never thrust himself into the conversation, or into her presence, when there was a chance of his intrusion being ill-timed, but was always at hand when he was wanted: the slightest sign, or even a glance, from Cecil, brought him to her side, and there he would march for hours in silent but perfect satisfaction. On the present occasion he seemed disposed to be unwontedly talkative, and to indulge in certain speculations relative to the intelligence they had just heard. It was true, he knew it before, but nothing had been disclosed to him beyond the simple fact that Royston was married, and married unhappily. Cecil checked him gently, but very decidedly.

"I had rather not hear or say one word on the subject. It ought not to interest either of us. In good time, I suppose, we shall be told all that it is fitting we should know. Meanwhile, it would be very wrong to make conjectures. No one has any right to pry into Major Keene's affairs if he chooses to keep them secret. I do not believe any one ever did so, even in thought, without repenting it. I dare say Mr. Fullarton will find this out soon, and I shall not pity him in the least. A person _ought_ to be punished who tries to startle people in that disagreeable way. Did you hear f.a.n.n.y's little shriek? I have not had time to laugh at her about it yet. The path is too narrow for two to ride abreast."

The light tone and manner of her last words might have deceived a closer observer than honest d.i.c.k Tresilyan. He lapsed into silence; but, after some time, his meditations a.s.sumed a cheerfully-roseate hue, as they resolved themselves into the fixed idea that Royston was lingering behind "to have it out with the parson."

Some distance in the rear walked Harry Molyneux, holding dutifully his wife's bridle-rein. It was very touching to see the diffidence and humility with which he proffered his little attentions, which were accepted, as it were, under protest. The truth was that _la mignonne_ had forgiven him already, and it was with great difficulty she refrained from telling him so, by word or smile. Her soft heart melted within her at the sight of the criminal's contrition, and decided that he had done penance enough during the last half hour to atone for a graver misdemeanor; but she deferred asking for explanations till a more convenient season, when there should be no chance of interruption; and meanwhile, on grounds of stern political necessity, _elle le boudait_.

(If any elegant scholar will translate that Gallicism for me literally, I shall feel obliged to him.)

Fancy the sensations of a man fighting his frigate desperately against overwhelming odds, when he sees the outline of a huge "liner," with English colors at the main, looming dimly through the smoke, close on the enemy's quarter; or those of the commander of an untenable post when the first bayonets of the relieving force glitter over the crest of the hill, and you will have a fair idea of Harry's relief as he looked back and saw Keene rapidly gaining on them with his swift, slas.h.i.+ng stride.

As he fell back and yielded his post to Royston, this was written so plainly on his face that the latter could not repress a smile; but there was little mirth in his voice when he addressed f.a.n.n.y--she had never heard him speak so gently and gravely: "I know that you are angry with your husband, as well as with me, for keeping you in the dark so long. I must make his peace with you, even if I fail in making my own. He could not tell you one word without breaking a promise given years ago. If he had done so, in spite of the excuse of the strong temptation, I would never have trusted him again. Ah! I see you have done him justice already: that is good of you. Now for my own part. Why I did not choose to let you into the secret as soon as I began to know you well I can hardly say. Hal will tell you all about it, and you will see that, for once, I was more sinned against than sinning; so I was not afraid of your thinking worse of me for it. Perhaps the last thing that a man likes to confess is his one arch piece of folly, especially if he has paid for it as heavy a price as attaches to most crimes. I think I am not sorry that you were kept in the dark till now. The past has given me some pleasant hours with you that might have been darkened if you had known all. I wish you would forgive me. We have always been such good friends, and, in your s.e.x at least, I can reckon so few."

If he had spoken with his ordinary accent, f.a.n.n.y would scarcely have yielded so readily, but the strange sadness of his tone moved her deeply. A mist gathered in her gentle eyes as she looked at him for some moments in silence, and then held out a timid little tremulous hand.

"I should not have liked you worse for knowing that you had been unhappy once," she whispered; "but I ought never to have been vexed at not being taken into confidence. I don't think I am wise or steady enough to keep secrets; only I wish--I do wish--that you had told Cecil Tresilyan."

He answered her in his old cool, provoking way, "I know what you mean to imply, but you do Miss Tresilyan less than justice, and me too much honor. What right have you to infer that I look upon her in any other light than a very charming acquaintance, or that she feels any deeper interest in to-day's revelation than if she had heard unexpectedly that any one of her friends was married? Surprises are seldom agreeable, especially when they are so clumsily brought about. I am sure she has not told you any thing to justify your suspicions."

f.a.n.n.y was the worst casuist out. She was seldom certain about her facts, and when she happened to be so, had not sufficient pertinacity or confidence to push her advantage. Her favorite argument was ever _ad misericordiam_. "I wish I could quite believe you," she said, plaintively; "but I can't, and it makes me very unhappy. You must see that you ought to go."

Her evident fear of him touched Royston more sharply than the most venomous reproach or the most elaborate sarcasm could have done; but he would not betray how it galled him. "Three days ago," he replied, "I had almost decided on departure; now it does not altogether depend on me.

But you need not be afraid. I shall not worry you long; and while I stay I have no wish, and, I believe, no power, to do any one any harm." She looked at him long and earnestly, but failed to extract any farther confession from the impenetrable face. Keene would not give her the chance of pursuing the subject, but called up Harry to help him in turning the conversation into a different channel and keeping it there.

Between the two they held the anxieties and curiosities of the oppressed _mignonne_ at bay till they entered Dorade.

They were obliged to pa.s.s the Terra.s.se on their way home: there, alone, under the shadow of the palms, sat Armand de Chateaumesnil. The invalid's great haggard eyes fixed themselves observantly on Cecil Tresilyan as she went by. He laid his hand on the major's sleeve when he came to his side, and said, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "Qu'as tu fait donc, pour l'atterrer ainsi?" The other met the searching gaze without flinching, "Je n'en sais rien; seulement--on dit que je suis marie." If the Algerian had been told on indisputable authority that Paris and its inhabitants had just been swallowed up by an earthquake, he would only have raised his s.h.a.ggy brows in a faint expression of surprise, exactly as he did now. "Tu es marie?" he growled out. "A laquelle donc des deux doit on compatir--Madame ou Mademoiselle?" Yet he did not like Keene the worse for the impatient gesture with which the latter shook himself loose, muttering, "Je vous croyais trop sage, M. le Vicomte, pour vous amuser avec ces balivernes de romancier."

f.a.n.n.y Molyneux and Cecil pa.s.sed the evening together _tete-a-tete_. That kind little creature had a way of taking other people's turn of duty in the line of penitence and apology. On the present occasion she was remarkably gus.h.i.+ng in her contrition, though her own guilt was infinitesimal; but she met with scanty encouragement. She had found time to extract from Harry all the details of the matrimonial misadventure, and wished to give her friend the benefit of them. Miss Tresilyan would not listen to a word. She did not attempt to disguise the interest she felt in the subject, but said that she preferred hearing the circ.u.mstances from Royston's own lips. With all this her manner had never been more gentle and caressing: she succeeded at last in deluding f.a.n.n.y into the belief that every body was perfectly heart-whole, and that no harm had been done, so that that night _la mignonne_ slept the sleep of the innocent, no misgivings or forebodings troubling her dreams. Those brave women!--when I think of the pangs that they suffer uncomplainingly, the agonies that they dissemble, I am inclined to esteem lightly our own claims to the Cross of Valor. How many of them there are who, covering with their white hand the dagger's hilt, utter with a sweet, calm smile, and lips that never tremble, the falsehood holier than most outspoken truths--_Poetus non angit_!

When Cecil returned home Mrs. Danvers was waiting for her, ready with any amount of condolence and indignation. She checked all this, as she well knew how to do; and at last was alone in her own chamber. Then the reaction came on; with natures such as hers, it is a torture not to be forgotten while life shall endure.

There were not wanting in Dorade admirers and sentimentalists, who were wont to watch the windows of The Tresilyan as long as light lingered there. How those patient, unrequited astronomers would have been startled if their eyes had been sharp enough to penetrate the dark recess where she lay writhing and p.r.o.ne, her stricken face veiled by the ma.s.ses of her loosened hair, her slender hands clenched till the blood stood still in their veins, in an agony of stormy self-reproach, and fiery longing, and injured pride; or if their ears had caught the sound of the low, bitter wail that went up to heaven like the cry from Gehenna of some fair, lost spirit, "My shame--my shame!"

Under favor of the audience, we will drop the curtain here. One of our puppets shall appear to-night no more. When a heroine is once on the stage, the public has a right to be indulged with the spectacle of her faults and follies, as well as of her virtues and excellences; yet I love the phantasm of my queenly Cecil too well to parade her discrowned and in abas.e.m.e.nt.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Other eyes besides Cecil's kept watch through the night that followed that eventful day. Royston's never closed till the dawning. Sometimes sitting motionless, sunk in his gloomy meditations, sometimes walking restlessly to and fro, and cooling his hot forehead in the current of the fresh night air, he kept his mind on a perpetual strain, calculating all probable and improbable chances; and the dull red light was never quenched, that told of perpetually-renewed cigars.

I fancy I hear an objection, springing from lips that are wont to be irresistible, leveled against such an atrocious want of sentiment.

Fairest critic! we will not now discuss the merits or demerits of nicotine, considered as an aid to contemplation, or an anodyne; but do you allow enough for the force of habit? Putting aside the case of those Indian captives, who are allowed a pipe in the intervals of torment (for these poor creatures have had no advantages of education, and are beyond the pale of civilized examples), do you not know that men have finished their last weed while submitting to the toilette of the guillotine? We are told that a Spaniard has begged of his confessor a light for his _papelito_ within sight of a freshly dug grave, when the firing-party was awaiting him one hundred paces off with grounded arms.

Only when the sky was gray did Royston lie down to rest; but he slept heavily late into the morning. His first act, when he rose, was to send a note to Cecil Tresilyan, begging her to meet him at a named place and time: she did not answer it, nevertheless he felt certain she would come. a.s.signations were no novelties to him, but he had gone forth to bear his part in more than one stricken field, where the chances of life and death were evenly poised, without any such despondency or uncertainty as clung to him then on his way to the appointed spot. He arrived there first, but he had not waited long when Cecil came slowly along the path that led into the heart of the woodland. As she drew near, Keene could not help thinking of the first time his eyes had lighted on her, mounting the zigzags of the Castle-hill. There was still the same elasticity of step, the same imperial carriage of the graceful head; but a less observant eye would have detected the change in her demeanor. The pretty petulance and provocative manner which, contrasting with the royalty of her form and feature, contributed so much to her marvelous fascinations, had departed, he feared, never to return.

Many instances occur daily where the same painfully unnatural gravity exasperates us, when its cause can not be traced up to either guilt or sorrow. Ah! Lilla, there are many who think that your wild-flower wreath was a more becoming ornament than that diamond circlet--bridal gift of the powerful baron. Sweet Eugenia! faces that were never absent from your _levees_ in old times you have missed at your court since you wedded Caesar.

Both were outwardly quite calm, but who can guess which of those two strong hearts was most conscious of tremor or weakness when Royston and Cecil met? His hand at least was the steadier, for her slight fingers quivered nervously in his grasp. He did not let them go till he began to speak.

"Whatever your decision may be after hearing me, I shall always thank you for coming here. It was like you--to give me the chance of speaking for myself. At least no falsehood or misconception shall stand between us. Will you listen to my story?"

"I came for no other purpose," Cecil said, and she sat down on the trunk of a fallen olive: she knew there would be need to husband all her strength. Thinking of these things, in after days, she never forgot how carefully he arranged his plaid on the branches behind her, so as to keep off the gusts of wind that ever and anon blew sharply. At that very instant, as if there were some strange sympathy in the elements, the sun plunged into the bosom of a dull leaden cloud, and there came a growl of distant thunder.

"I shall not tax your patience long," Royston went on. "It shall only be the briefest outline. But do not interrupt me till I have ended; it is hard enough to have to begin and go through with it. I can not tell you why I married. Many people asked me the question at the time, and I have asked it of myself often since, but I never could find any satisfactory answer. The woman I chose was then very beautiful, and it was not a disadvantageous match, but I had seen fairer faces and fortunes go by without coveting them. I think a certain obstinacy of purpose, and an absurd pleasure in carrying off a prize (such a prize!) from many rivals was at the bottom of it all. In six months I began to appreciate the inconveniences of living with a statue; but I can say it truly, I never dreamed of betraying her. Yet I had temptations. Remember I was not yet twenty-two, and one does not bear disappointments well at that age. We had not been married quite a year when an officer in a native regiment died, up in the Hills, of _delirium tremens_. Do you know that, under such circ.u.mstances, there is always a commission appointed to examine the dead man's papers. I could not help seeing that, for some days past, my wife's manner had been strangely sullen and cold, but I had no suspicion of the truth. I don't think I have ever been so surprised as when the president of the commission brought me a bundle of her letters.

I never saw her paramour: he must have been more fool than scoundrel to have kept what he ought to have burned. I did not thank the man who gave me those papers, and I never spoke to him again. I only read one of them: it was written soon after our marriage. I went to my wife with _this_ in my hand. She listened to me in her own icy way, not denying or confessing any thing; but she defied me to prove actual infidelity either before or after my authority began. I could not do it, whatever I might think. I could only prove a course of lies and _chicanerie_, worked out by her and all her family, that would have sickened the most unscrupulous schemer alive. I told her I would never sleep under the same roof with her again. She laughed--if you could hear her laugh, you would excuse me for more than I have done--and said, 'You can't get a divorce.' She was right there. So it was settled that we were to live apart without any public scandal. But her people would not accept this position. They sent a brother to bully me. It was an unwise move. My temper was wilder in those days, and I had strong provocation; yet I repent that I did not keep my hands off the throat of that wretched, bl.u.s.tering civilian. It was all arranged peacefully at last, and I have not seen her since, though I hear of her from time to time, as I did yesterday. This happened eleven long years ago, and she has never given me a chance of ridding myself of her since. She is always carefully circ.u.mspect, and so works out a patient revenge, though I believe I did her no wrong. You have heard all I dare to tell you, and all the truth.

Judge me now."

For the last few minutes a great battle had been waging in Cecil Tresilyan's heart. Can the wisest of us, before the armies meet, prophesy aright as to the issue of such an Armageddon?

Twice she tried to speak, and found her voice rebellious; at last she answered, in a faint, broken tone, "I can not say how I pity you."

He threw back his lofty head in anger or disdain.

"I will not accept groundless compa.s.sion, even from you. Do not deceive yourself. I have learned how to bear my burden; it scarcely c.u.mbers me now. It has fretted me more in the last three weeks than it has done for years. I only wish you to decide whether I did very wrong in keeping back the knowledge of all this from you; and, if I have offended unpardonably, what my punishment shall be."

There was something more than reproach in the glance that flashed upon him out of the violet eyes; for an instant they glittered almost scornfully; her lip, too, had ceased to tremble, and the silver in her voice rang clear and true--

"You are not afraid to ask that question--remembering many words addressed to me, each one of which was an insult--from you? You dare not yet dishonor me in your thoughts so far as to doubt how I should have acted _at first_, if I had known your true position. Or are you amusing yourself still at my expense? I had thought you more generous."

The gloom on Royston's face deepened sullenly: though he had schooled himself up to a certain point of humility, even from her he could ill brook reproof.

"Those insults were not premeditated, at least," he retorted. "Have you not got accustomed yet to men's losing their heads in your presence, and then talking as the spirit moved them? And you think I am amusing myself now. _Merci!_ there runs something in my veins warmer than ice-water."

His accent was abrupt, even to rudeness, yet Cecil felt a thrill of guilty triumph as she heard it, and marked the s.h.i.+ver of pa.s.sion that shot through the colossal frame from brow to heel. A more perfect specimen of immaculate womanhood might not have been insensible to that acknowledgment of her power. But she shook her head in sorrowful incredulity.

"You do less than justice to your self-control. But it is too late for reproaches. I forgive you for any wrong that you may have done me, even in thought or intention. I wish the past could be buried. For the future, I can say only this--we must part, and that instantly; it is more than time."

Keene had expected some such answer, and it did not greatly disconcert him. After pausing a second or two he said,

"I did not ask you for your decision without meaning to abide by it. But it would be well to pause before you make it final. Remember--we shall not part for days, or months, if you send me away now. At least, you need not fear persecution. Yet it is difficult to reconcile one's self to banishment. Will you not give me a chance of making amends for the folly you complain of? I can not promise that my words shall always be guarded, and my manner artificial; but I think I would rather keep your friends.h.i.+p than win the love of any living woman, and I would try hard never to offend you. Let us finish this at once. You have only to say 'leave me,' and I swear that you shall be obeyed to the letter."

On that last card hung all the issue of the game that he would have sold his soul to win; yet he spoke not eagerly, though very earnestly, and waited quietly for her reply, with a face as calm as death.

Cecil ought not to have hesitated for an instant: we all know that. But steady resolve and stoical self-denial, easy enough in theory, are often bitterly hard in practice. It is very well to preach to the wayfarer that his duty is to go forward and not tarry. But fresh and green grow the gra.s.ses round the Diamond of the Desert; pleasantly over its bright waters droop the feathery palms. How drearily the gray arid sand stretches away to the sky-line! Who knows how far it may be to the next oasis? Let us rest yet another hour by the fountain.

From any deliberate intention to do wrong Cecil was as pure as any canonized saint in the roll of virgins and martyrs; but if she had been a voluptuary as elaborate as La Pompadour, she could not have felt more keenly that her love had increased tenfold in intensity since it became a crime to indulge it. The pa.s.sionate energy that had slumbered so long in her temperament was thoroughly roused at last, and would make itself heard clamorously enough to drown the still small voice, that said "beware and forbear." Her principles were good, but they were not strong enough to hold their own. O pride of the Tresilyans! that had tempted to sin so many of that haughty house, when you might have saved its fairest descendant, was it the time to falter and fail? She looked up piteously in her great extremity; there was a prayer for help in her eyes, but between them and heaven was interposed a stern bronze face, not a line of it softening.

At length the faint, broken whisper came--"G.o.d help me! I _can not_ say it."

There was a pause, but not a stillness, for the beating of her companion's heart was distinctly audible. Then Cecil spoke again in her own natural caressing tones:

"You will be good and generous, I know. See how I trust you!"

The thought of how their continued intimacy might touch her fair fame never seemed to suggest itself for an instant. Yet, remember, The Tresilyan was no longer a guileless, romantic girl, believing and hoping all things; she knew right well what scandals and jealousies lurk under the smooth surface of the society in which she had borne so prominent a part; she knew that there were women alive who would have given half their diamonds to have her at their mercy, and torment her at their will. Was it likely that such would let even a slander sleep? Let the _Rosiere_ of last season lay this reflection to her heart to temper the immoderation of triumph--"For every one of my victories I have made one mortal enemy." Not only while in supremacy is the potentate obnoxious to conspiracies; the dagger is most to be dreaded when the dignity is laid down. All dethroned and abdicating dictators have not the luck of Sylla.

Silently and unreservedly to accept such a sacrifice, while the offerer was resolved not to count the cost, transcended even the cynicism of Royston Keene. He grasped her arm as though to arrest her attention, and almost involuntarily broke from his lips words of solemn warning.