Читать книгу A Gilded Serpent - James Edward Muddock - Страница 5

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RUNNELL HALL was certainly an imposing pile of buildings at that time, and was a conspicuous landmark for miles around, while its windows commanded a panorama that for variety and extent could scarcely be excelled. The rocky and undulating grounds, which culminated in a hillock on which the house was built, were tastefully and artistically kept. A noble carriage drive swept up from the lower entrance gate to the main porch, where a broad flight of marble steps gave access to the entrance hall, built in the style peculiar to noble houses in the days of Henry VIII. A minstrels' gallery was a conspicuous feature of the hall, and on one side an enormous fireplace, with a massive carved oak front and mantelpiece, spoke of the time when yule- logs were burned. Over the fireplace was a large frame bearing a full-length portrait of a stern warrior in armour; and on the oak panelling all round were many shields, swords, and other weapons of warfare, lending a martial air to the place. A very fine stained glass window, depicting scenes in the life of Robin Hood, afforded light in the daytime, and at night illumination was obtained by enormous candles fitting in hollow cases to imitate torches.

The whole house bore evidence of wealth and comfort, and here Norah Lacey had been born and brought up. The only shadow that had ever fallen across her path of happiness was the rupture between her people and the Spedwicks. The Spedwicks were an old county family, and had had their home in Ministerfield for many generations. Jim's father, James Oliver Spedwick, had always been opposed to Mr. Lacey in matters of religion and politics, as well as socially. Spedwick had Bohemian proclivities, and things had not gone well with him. Mr. Lacey was in a sense a nouveau riche. It is true he had inherited a little money from his father, but his wealth had come to him by judicious purchases of land and other property. He was an ambitious, purse-proud man, and had looked down upon, and to some extent had treated his neighbour with contempt. But not always, for when, as a young married man, he acquired the magnificent property of Runnell Hall by purchase, he cultivated a friendship with Mr. Spedwick which continued for a good many years, and Jim and Norah, an only son and only daughter, though Mr. Lacey had two sons, both of them very considerably Norah's juniors, and at the time when this history commences they were at school, were thrown much together in their younger days. But the time came when a shadow fell between the two parties. The split began by divergences of opinion regarding church matters. Then Mr. Lacey was desirous of entering Parliament, but Mr. Spedwick supported the opposition with such zeal and vigour that Lacey was nowhere, and the rival candidate, thanks to Mr. Spedwick, won hands down. Necessarily that increased the bitterness, and when at last Jim, who was then at a public school, got into disgrace, Mr. Lacey's pent-up feelings were let loose like a flood; he denounced the Spedwicks in unmeasured terns of opprobrium, and forbade Jim, under all sorts of pains and penalties, to hold further communication with Norah. The young people had grown to be very fond of each other, and the stern parental edict was a great blow to both.

Jim's trouble was this. On one occasion, being home for his holidays, when he was about seventeen, he set off one night with some companions, to raid the game preserves of Lord Winlands, a profligate young nobleman, who had but recently succeeded to the title and estates, and was far from popular. Jim and his companions, six of them altogether, were actuated by a spirit of devilment, and their folly was merely a youthful escapade. Unfortunately they were disturbed in their depredations by two of his lordship's gamekeepers. A struggle ensued, during which one of them, as he alleged, was struck over the head by a heavy stick, and his brain injured. The young men were subsequently arrested, and the affair caused an immense sensation in the neighbourhood. The defence was that the keeper had received his injury by slipping and striking his head against a tree. The end of it was, after a great deal of ill-feeling and heat had been imparted into the affair, the evidence given as to how the injury had been received led to the young delinquents being fined in various sums, and Jim Spedwick, who was regarded as the ringleader, was fined very heavily, and until his friends could get the money together he was kept for some days in durance vile. Unhappily the keeper died soon afterwards from softening of the brain caused by the injury, and this caused a recrudescence of ill-feeling against the young men. Jim's father packed him off to Jamaica, where an uncle, a wealthy and somewhat eccentric planter, had lived nearly all his life.

As may be supposed Norah and Jim were very greatly affected, and both vowed eternal faithfulness; Norah particularly was cast down, for she never expected to see her lover again. However, after a separation of two years, he had come back for a brief visit, and had managed to communicate with Norah, the result being the tryst in the wood as we have seen.

It was perhaps a daring and desperate step for him to accompany Norah back to her home; but time had been when Mrs. Lacey had shown a good deal of partiality towards him, for he was a fine, open-minded young fellow, with a manly bearing, and a certain rugged independence that promised well for the future.

When the young people reached the Hall the whole landscape was bathed in the mellow, golden light of the dying day, and a more peaceful and beautiful scene it would have been difficult to imagine. Nature was calm and restful, but the hearts of Norah and her lover were agitated with hopes and fears.

Jim was ushered into the elegantly furnished drawing-room, while Norah went to prepare her mother for the interview. Jim spent a dismal and anxious half hour alone. A footman came in and lit the candles, and a few minutes later Mrs. Lacey, followed by the trembling Norah, made her appearance. The lady, who had had a humble origin, her father having been a naval carpenter, was pompous and purse-proud, for her husband had exercised great influence over her, acknowledged Jim's greeting in a cold and stately way.

"It seems to me, young man, that you have been guilty not only of an indiscretion, but an impertinence in coming here," she began.

Jim's hope sank, but his pride rose. His youthful follies were common ones; but he was a member of an old family who had distinguished themselves in many ways, and he did not feel that he had anything to be ashamed of.

"I am sorry that you should think so, Mrs. Lacey," was his answer. "It strikes me that impertinence is too strong a term to use—"

"I am tempted to use a stronger one than that," interrupted the lady.

"You seem to forget that I have known Norah all my life," continued Jim, without noticing the interruption.

"I forget nothing," replied the lady sternly, "and certainly not your disgraceful conduct that led to the death of an unhappy man. That in my mind is a crime."

"Oh, mother, don't be cruel," pleaded Norah in tearful voice.

Jim's face coloured, and pride of race rose strong within him. He was tempted to answer sharply but restrained himself. Norah's troubled face touched him to the depths.

"The man's death was the result of an accident," he said with firmness and dignity. "But for that accident my folly would have been regarded as nothing worse than a trespass; it's unfair to speak of a boyish escapade as a crime, and I solemnly declare that I never struck the man. His injury was the result of a fall."

"Well, we won't dispute about terms," replied the lady, drawing herself up with dignity. "The question is, what have you come here for? When Norah confessed to me that she had secretly met you in the Black Lake Wood I was thunderstruck. But when I heard that you were actually under my roof I could scarcely believe my own ears. It is audacity, unpardonable audacity."

"If I had thought that this was to be my reception," said Jim, "I should have given Dingle Hall a very wide berth; but since I am here there need be no beating about the bush. I love your daughter. She loves me. And I am here to plead to you not to turn a deaf ear to my entreaties to be allowed to pay my addresses to her."

Norah did not speak, but her eyes met his and her face betrayed the agitation from which she was suffering. It was a painful situation. Each felt it to be so; and each knew, or at least believed, that on the result of this interview depended his and her future happiness.

"There is one thing to be said, you are not lacking in assurance," answered Mrs. Lacey scornfully. "You were guilty of wickedness and deceit when you wrote to my child and asked her to meet you, knowing as you do that you will never be tolerated by any member of my family."

Norah spoke now. With desperate courage she plunged into the fray.

"I tolerate him, mother," she exclaimed, in high ringing tones that indicated spirit and will. "I tolerate him, and I have a right to have a voice in a matter that so closely concerns my own happiness."

"You will remain silent. You will be obedient, and you will do as your father and mother intend you to do," commanded the lady austerely. "As for you, sir, you had better put an end to this painful scene by leaving at once." She crossed the room and pulled the bell-rope violently. "I shall tell the footman to show you to the door, and once you have left my house you must never darken the portals again."

Norah made a movement to get nearer to Jim. She was evidently labouring under great distress of mind. She seemed struggling to find words, but at tha t moment the door opened, and a liveried flunky appeared in response to the ringing of the bell.

"John, show—" began Mrs. Lacey peremptorily, but checked herself suddenly for John announced—

"The Hon. Randolph Pym."

A gentleman entered attired in shooting costume, a velveteen coat, leather gaiters, and heavy boots. He was a young man, of fair complexion, with a light moustache, and a mass of curling hair. The lady hurried forward and extended her hand. Norah started; her face was very red, and she seemed overwhelmed with confusion.

"You will pray pardon my intrusion upon you in such a costume as this," said Mr. Randolph Pym apologetically, and glancing rapidly from Norah to Jim with a look full of inquiry. He was evidently confused as well as surprised. "The fact is," he stammered, "I—I—have hastened here. I—I—really it's a painful position for me to be placed in; but—I—I have been shooting in the Black Lake Wood, and near the lake I witnessed to my astonishment Norah in the arms of this gen—this fellow. I came here to question Norah, and warn you, as well as demand from this young man an explanation."

The unexpected appearance of the Hon. Randolph Pym not only complicated matters, but added greatly to the dramatic intensity of the scene.

A old, almost sardonic smile showed itself in the lines of Mrs. Lacey's face, as turning haughtily to Jim it said in measured tones of studied insult—

"Jim Spedwick, this gentleman is the Hon. Randolph Pym, youngest son of our neighbour and close friend Sir Yardley Pym, Baronet, and formerly M.P. for this county. My daughter Norah there is pledged and engaged to Mr. Pym, with the full consent of myself and her father, to become his wife. You will, therefore, have the good sense, I hope, to realize at once that you are out of place here. You are intruding, and after the information I have now given you it would be impertinence for you to continue to force yourself on Norah."

The two men exchanged glances, angry glances. They knew they were rivals, and between men so situated hatred is human and inevitable. But here in the presence of the ladies they were necessarily restrained. Jim was at a disadvantage; he was at a loss how to act, what to say. He looked into Norah's eyes for encouragement, inspiration. She was overwhelmed by this unexpected development. Her distress was pitiable. Her breast rose and fell rapidly with emotion. Her face was flushed, her eyes misty with tears. She felt to the full the responsibility that rested upon her. Here were two young men appealing to her woman's heart. One was of her own choosing, the other the choice of her father.

It was a cruel and painful position for a young girl to be placed in. It was a solemn moment too, for it was big with her own fate, and probably the fate of those, around her. It was true she was pledged to young Randolph Pym. He was the son of a wealthy man, and his father's estates adjoined those of Mr. Lacey's. By both parties it was considered that a union of the families by marriage was very desirable in every way, and Norah's parents had been at great pains to impress upon her that it was her solemn duty to do exactly as they wanted her to do, without any reference to her own personal feelings. In a spirit of dutiful obedience she had complied with their wishes. She had accepted the "Hon." Randolph Pym's addresses, had acknowledged him as her affianced husband, and the respective fathers had been busy discussing the marriage settlement. Randolph being the youngest son was entirely dependent upon his father, but he felt that in marrying Norah Lacey his future would be secure. Although he had ni legitimate right to the prefix of ".Hon." before his name, the Ministerfield people had so dubbed him, and he was always so addressed.

During all the time that Jim Spedwick had been away, Norah had not ceased to think of him, while the love-letters he had written to her before he fell into disgrace were among her most treasured possessions; she had, however, gradually come to regard Jim as a lost ideal, and had settled down to the prospect of becoming Pym's wife. But Jim's sudden return had revived within her all the old feeling, and convinced her that her love for him was as real and strong as ever, and she felt now, in the extraordinary situation created by the presence of the two men under her father's roof, she must speak her mind or for ever hold her peace.

This it was that with trembling voice and yet with resolute determined air, and to the amazement of her mother and Randolph, she said—

"I have given my heart to Jim Spedwick, whom I have known all my life, and if I am not to be his wife I will be wife to no one."