Читать книгу The Way Beyond - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 24

Richard, athrill with vigorous life and the joy of it, galloped his proud Saladin along roads oft-travelled of late for he was riding to—HER. In the breast-pocket of his coat was the letter written by his beloved Mother to this same adored HER, a letter with message of such wise sympathy and loving welcome that as his powerful animal whirled him through the sunny air young Richard could have shouted for very happiness. And small wonder.

Reaching the confines of Abbeymere, and almost before he knew it, he checked his exuberance and approaching the tall, iron gates, was surprised to see them shut; so he rang the bell, in response to which summons there now issued from the lodge a comely fellow in neat livery whom he had known these many years and therefore hailed familiarly:

"Good day, Rudge, old fellow! How are you, John?"

"Arternoon, Mr. Vibart, sir!" answered John, unbolting.

"Why must you lock the gates so early, John?"

"Dunno sir. 'Tis his lordship's orders, no strangers to be admitted this way. But you bean't no stranger, sir,—leastways I s'pose I can let ee in and yet—I dunno. But, Master Richard sir, I does know one thing!"

"And what's that, John?"

"There be summat up, 'ereabouts."

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, I means as th'owd place be 'aunted. Ah, an' small wonder,—wot wi' all them old ruins, an' the mere so black an' gashly as it be! No, I ain't nowise surprised if goblings and ghosts flit in sich a place; 'tis only to be expected-like. But it do come crool-'ard on me, considering my kerseymere breeches, and them good as noo."

"Why, what's all this of breeches and goblins, John? Just what are you trying to tell me?"

"Well, sir, 'bout three nights agone I seen it first."

"Saw what, John?"

"This here gobling, sir. Went a-flittering acrost the park, it did, and vanished as I watched. Then t'other evening I seen it a-glaring at me from they bushes over agin the wicket-gate as leads into Fallowdean Copse! And last night sir, ay—last night 'twere me breeches! Dog bite me if it didn't make away wi' me kerseymere breeches and them good as noo!"

"But how could any goblin steal a man's breeches?" laughed Richard. "It can't be done, John."

"Why, sir, they kerseymere breeches was not on me, d'ye see,—leastways I wasn't in 'em, Mr. Richard, seeing as they was 'anging out on the line in me bit o' gardin yonder.... And now—gone sir! Flowed away! And 'ow should they?"

"Stolen by gipsies or some tramp, of course, John."

"Ain't noways possible, sir! Never no gipsy nor no tramp don't no'ow never find their thieving ways in here, sir—no! So it couldn't nowise be the likes o' they!"

"Hum!" quoth Richard, struck by sudden thought. "Then perhaps it was some sort of goblin."

"Mr. Richard, there ain't not never nowise no manner o' doubt o' that. Howandever my kerseymere breeches be took and vanished ... and good as noo! ... Was you wishful to see Lord Iford, sir, because, if so, 'e ain't in and——"

"No, no, I am here to deliver a letter to ... to Miss Ford."

"Ford?" repeated John, scratching his ear thoughtfully. "She be the young governess lady as be along o' my lady Bedingham and children. Well, sir, she ain't in neither."

"Oh, confound it! Are you sure, John?"

"Sarten, sir! She be out a-driving wi' her leddyship and children."

"Why then I'll wait. Will she be long, d'you suppose?"

"Mebbe a hour. Mebbe two. Mebbe arf an hour. Anyways she'll be back if you waits long enough, sir. Now will ee wait up at th'ouse, my lord th' Earl be up and about again though 'obbling, or will ee set wi' me a piece in me lodge?"

"Thank you, neither. I'll ride round and wait in Fallowdean Copse. Will you tell her she'll find me there?"

"Ay, I'll tell her, Mr. Richard."

"Thanks, John. Let her know the instant she returns, will you?" So saying, Richard thrust divers coins into John's ready palm, and turned his impatient Saladin.

"Why not ride acrost the park, Mr. Richard, it be a sight nearer."

"But I've plenty of time, deuce take it! And I prefer the open road and lanes, John. My respects to Mrs. Rudge."

Richard nodded, gave Saladin his head and away they went with thud of flying hoof and creak of leather, and both of them enjoying it like the high-spirited, vigorous young animals they were, though to be sure Richard's joyous exuberance was somewhat damped. Reaching the coppice, and all too soon, he dismounted, left Saladin to crop the grass, stepped into the leafy shade and looked round about upon this secluded spot hallowed by memories of the beloved she destined to his love and care ... someday. Moved by such very lover-like thoughts he came beneath "her tree" and drew off his gauntlet to touch its rugged bole with bare hand for her dear sake and was deliberating just where he should kiss it, when his senses were startled and outraged by a hissing whisper almost in his ear:

"Mus' Richard! Oh, Master Dick!"

"Deuce take you, Tom! Confound it all!" he exclaimed peering angrily about. "Where the devil are you now?"

"Why, here, sir, for sure!" And from fissure in this same great tree a bright eye peeped forth at him. "This be one o' my earths, Mus' Richard, 'tis here as I roosts frequent.... But your young leddy, sir."

"Yes, yes—what of her, Tom lad—what?"

"Well, I aren't sure, but there be summat up. I seen 'er a-piping of 'er pretty eye 's morning! And th' Earl be afoot and about again, dannel 'im!"

"Crying, was she? Good God! Why? What for?"

"And that theer Clipsby allus a-creepin' an' a-crawlin'——"

"Clipsby? The Earl's valet fellow?"

"Ar,—'im! Sir, 'e were a-watching of you an' 'er last time as you met here, a-'arkin' an' a-listenin' 'e were."

"Was he, damn him!"

"Ar, 'e were so, sure—ly. I meant to tell an' warn ee only you galloped off so sudden-like."

"But, Tom ... oh curse it! Why should she weep, eh man, eh?"

"Well, your honour, women critters all do, it be so their natur'."

"Yes, but not hers, no—not hers. Weeping? Oh, damnation! Where was she, Tom?"

"Well, sir, she were a-sittin'—listen, sir! Hark ... yonder! Some one comes a-creepin'! Lay low!"

Sure enough, Richard heard a vague stir of movement, a stealthy rustle of leaves subsiding now and then as if the unseen prowler had halted, the better to use eyes and ears. Instinctively Richard became stealthy also, and stepping behind the great tree, crouched there, gazing in the direction of these approaching sounds.

And after some while, out from the denser boskage stepped that negative personality called Clipsby. For a moment he stood utterly still, glancing hither and thither with a furtive expectancy, then two powerful hands whirled him about and his pale eyes were blinking at Richard's scowling, young face.

"Damned rat! You'll spy, will you?" demanded Richard shaking him fiercely. "Peep and pry, will you? Get out before I harm you!" Then Richard hurled him aside so violently that he tripped and fell, lying a moment as if dazed, then he arose, smoothed and reordered garments with care, which done, he stood a moment utterly still and with bowed head, gazing at Richard from the corners of his eyes then, speechless still, he turned and crept away. And when all sound of his retreat had died away, Richard was again startled and this time to find Tom Lethbridge at his elbow.

"Dammit, Tom!" he exclaimed, "you move like a ghost—aha, and talking of ghosts, I see you've got 'em on. John Rudge's kerseymere breeches, eh?"

"Well, mine was a bit tore-like, Mus' Richard, an' these was fair pleadin' to be took,—and no 'oles in 'em nowhere."

"Ay, John said they were good as new."

"They be naun s' bad, sir. But 'e be a strange chap yon Clipsby an' dang me if I like the way 'e looked at ee, sir,—and what was 'e arter this time, I wonder?"

"Yourself perhaps, Tom. He probably knows you are lurking hereabouts."

"Not 'im, sir—no! 'Tis me as be a-watching of 'e, an'——"

"Listen, Tom! By George, I believe he's coming back again and in a hurry too—hide man, hide!" Even as he spoke Tom had vanished swift and silently as he had appeared, for again was a rustling loud and louder.... Richard leapt forward with joyful exclamation for the vision that suddenly blessed his yearning eyes was Rosemary.

For a moment they gazed upon each other, mute and scarce breathing, then Richard, forgetting all in the world save Rosemary, had her in his arms.... But presently, flushed and tremulous from his kisses, she held him away to look deep into his joyful eyes.

"Richard ... oh, my dear," she whispered, "you ... told them?"

"Yes, my own love, I told them everything, and they agree ... that blessedly dear mother of mine won over my father, she said ... oh but she wrote you a letter, a wonderful, beautiful letter—like herself! Here it is ... read and see,—no, let us sit and read it together."

So down they sat, then and there, and leaning within his arm Rosemary opened the letter, read it once eagerly and looking on Richard, sighed in a rapture; then she read it again slowly and folding the letter with loving care, she kissed it, looking at Richard through a sparkle of happy tears.

"Oh, Dick," she murmured, "your dear, wonderful mother writes me she is ... glad! Calls me ... her daughter,—me! She is coming herself to fetch me on Thursday morning, driving over in state, for me! She herself ... to take me ... oh, Richard, how I do love her! And she calls me ... daughter!"

"I know!" said Richard, kissing those sweet, tearful eyes, "I know! Oh, Rosemary, isn't life glorious!"

"She says we are to have a ... real marriage ... oh Dick! A great affair ... and in London!"

"Yes! That's the frightful part of it, of course!"

"Frightful?" exclaimed Rosemary falling into another rapture. "Oh it's just ... wonderful!"

"Wonderful?" he repeated. "To be compelled to wait until October?"

"And she wants me with her, Dick, to arrange things ... oh imagine it!"

"Yes, to scheme out dresses and what not, giggling bridesmaids and a crowd of fools to stare at us! I say again it's simply perfectly dam frightful!"

"It's just ... heavenly, Richard!"

"Why do you ... good Lord, Rosemary,—do you actually mean to say that you really want all this fearful fuss and confounded botheration ... you?"

"Want it, Dick?" she sighed, clasping hands in a very transport. "Oh, my darling, I tremble with joy at the mere thought! It seems too wonderful it could ever happen to poor me! Oh your lovely mother, how I do adore her!"

"Well," quoth Richard, shaking youthful head, "upon my soul, Rosemary, I thought you were above such things!"

"Your dear mother might have told you that all women——"

"She did, oh she did, but I thought—well, that you were different."

"Oh, but I'm not, Dick, I'm simply just a very female she creature and so—why, whatever are you scowling at so terribly?"

"This!" he answered, and from where it had lain concealed in the grass, picked up a pistol, a small, beautifully wrought weapon mounted with silver, very handsome and very deadly.

"Yes," nodded Rosemary, "I dropped it."

"You? But it belongs to Abbeymere, the Earl, here is his crest and monogram."

"Well, it's a hateful thing,—put it down!"

"And ... by God, it's loaded! Rosemary, how did you come by this damnable thing?"

"It was this morning, Dick. I was sitting alone in the arbour arranging the children's lessons for the day when Mr. Clipsby came to me—

"That fellow!"

"Yes, Dick. And he seems such a very solitary, unhappy man that I feel sorry for him. He appeared greatly distressed this morning, but then he always is, and he began by talking about flowers and how cruel to pick them——"

"Flowers!" snorted Richard.

"He knows a great deal about botany, Dick; indeed he is very clever and a wonderful musician."

"The fellow's a sneaking spy! Did he give you the weapon?"

"Richard, I'll tell you all about it—if you'll allow me. Well then, Mr. Clipsby went on to tell me that Rudge, the lodgekeeper, had warned him there were rough characters lurking about, burglars perhaps. And then, Dick, he showed me this pistol and told me to keep it by me and fire it off if anything should happen to frighten me, and so went hurrying away, and left the hateful thing before I could prevent. So I brought it along hoping to meet him and return it."

"Hum!" quoth Richard, frowning down at the pistol. "Do you know how to fire it?"

"Why, of course! I often shot off Grandfather Simon's old horse-pistol; you remember it used to hang by the fire-place in the 'Bull.' ... Oh what a terrible tom-boy child I was! I shot a rabbit once, poor thing! Oh, a nasty, wild creature I was in those days!"

"But always beautiful ... and with your glorious hair ... and afraid of nothing, I used to think."

"And then your dear mother sent me to be tamed at the Academy——"

"And now you are going to marry me."

"In—October, Richard."

"Ha, well! Meanwhile, I'll take care of this," said Richard thrusting the pistol into his coat pocket.

And presently they rose and wandered through the little wood talking together murmurously, pausing frequently to look at each other, to kiss suddenly and wander on again until, turning aside haphazard into a glade, they came upon Abbeymere's Earl looming very large though seated lowly upon a fallen tree. At sight of them he flourished his hat in wide-armed gesture of greeting and hailed them in his throatiest, heartiest tones:

"Corydon and Phyllis, I salute ye! Happy Daphnis and sly, witching Chloe, be welcome!" Richard returned this salutation a little stiffly, Rosemary clung tighter to his arm and averting her eyes, breathed distressfully.

"Oho Youth!" bellowed the Earl jovially. "Aha Love! Of what avail bolts and bars 'gainst such combination? My gates are locked yet Love comes stealing in! And, b'gad, why not? My bold Daphnis, sweet-sly Chloe, creep ye away again where ye may kiss and fondle unseen and may roguish Cupidon bless ye,—away and leave myself to sit and envious sigh——"

"My lord!" exclaimed Richard, then flushed hotly, grew awkward and strangely abashed before this so experienced libertine's meaning looks and throaty chucklings. Then clapping on his hat, "My lord," said he again, heedless of the pleading hand upon his arm, "here is neither slyness nor secrecy."

"My dear Richard, I do not reproach," chuckled the Earl. "No, no, lad, far from it,—I envy. Love is a sweet sweet, slyly sly and should be! The drooping lash, the conscious blush, the breathless denial, the tender, imploring——"

"Sir," cried Richard, diffidence and awkwardness swept away by quick, fierce anger, "I came to Abbeymere with a letter from my mother——"

"The bewitching Lady Vibart,—oho, for me?"

"No, sir, for Miss Ford who ... who will shortly do me the honour ... who is going to marry me."

"What ... another of you?" chuckled the Earl. "B'gad, quite a remarkable coincidence, odd—deuced odd and queer!"

"How so, my lord?"

"Well, d'ya see, my son Iford assured me, and very recently, that this same so alluring tantalization, Miss Rosemary, is going to marry him."

"Then, sir, he was probably drunk."

"Oh, he was, Richard, he was of course. But then, my dear boy, Iford drunk develops certain latent powers, a cool intrepidity and surprising assurance and determination that make me know him for my son. And, like his sire, he has a true eye for beauty, a choice palate for succulencies feminine."

"Richard! Pray, Richard, come away!" whispered Rosemary. But still heedless of that pleading voice and urgent hand, Richard tronted the Earl with sparkling eyes and chin out-thrust.

"Then, my lord, allow me to tell you——"

"With all my heart, Richard, and anything you will,—but ladies first! Pray silence a moment and let this entrancing vision find voice and speak, suffer this coy, shrinking loveliness to explain how one may wed two? Miss Rosemary, how say ya?"

"Sir," began Richard passionately, but Rosemary's smooth, clear voice silenced him:

"Oh, surely, my lord, such idle question needs no answer. Pray, Richard, will you come away now or must I go alone?"

So saying she turned and moved off, and Richard perforce went too, and with the Earl's throaty merriment ringing in his ears.

"A beastly old villain!" fumed Richard when they had gone some distance. "He is, as you said, all evil. Yes, I know exactly what you meant now. By heaven, he's even viler than I imagined! Damn him, he makes me feel unclean, somehow.... My Rosemary, you shan't stay near him another hour, you shall come back home with me."

"Oh, but I can't, Dick, I've so much to do first ... then there's Lady Bedingham and the children ... besides your dear mother is coming for me on Thursday."

"Yes, but ... that beast! Rosemary, he's the sort of thing I could shoot joyfully! Somebody ought to murder him——"

"Oh, hush, Dick, hush! My dear love ... don't, ah don't say such fearful things."

"Well then, come back with me, Rosemary,—now, this moment! Come home ... to my mother."

"Ah no, Dick! Dear, it would just spoil everything. Oh can't you see? Your mother is coming for me on Thursday—for me! Only a few hours really, dear boy. Ah now don't frown on me! I shall be all right. I don't fear anyone or anything any more,—not now! No, not even—him! And I'm not alone, there is Lady Bedingham and Mr. Clipsby and——"

"Clipsby!" snorted Richard. "I tell you, Rosemary, the fellow's a sneaking spy ... a rat——"

"And yet he seems the gentlest, saddest creature and so much to be pitied ... except when he plays Beethoven—then he's—oh, wonderful! ... And there's Saladin waiting for you under our old tree. Will you let me ride him sometimes?"

"Of course, dear heart, I'll give him to you if you like, or you shall have the pick of the stables, there's a little black mare I've thought will just suit you.... Ah but, Rosemary, I don't want to leave you ... here!"

"Oh but you must!" she answered with her gentle though indomitable look. "But only for a few hours, Richard dear. I am just only living for Thursday, and you! Please give my love to your mother and say I can never thank her in words.... Good-bye for a little while, my own Richard! Oh, I am the proudest, happiest creature in the whole world!"