"I"m not a "poor child," Uncle d.i.c.k," expostulated the Imp; "I"m a gallant knight and--"
"--The blame of my fault, Lisbeth," I continued, "I alone must face your just resentment, for--"
"Hush!" she whispered, glancing hastily about.
"--For, by means of a ladder, Lisbeth, a common or garden ladder--"
"Oh, do be quiet!" she said, and laid her hand upon my lips, which I immediately imprisoned there, but for a moment only; the next it was s.n.a.t.c.hed away as there came the unmistakable sound of some one approaching.
"Come along, Auntie Lisbeth," whispered the Imp, "fear not, we"ll rescue you."
Oh! surely there was magic in the air to-night; for, with a swift, dexterous movement, Lisbeth had swept her long train across her arm, and we were running hand in hand, all three of us, running across lawns and down winding paths between yew hedges, sometimes so close together that I could feel a tress of her fragrant hair brushing my face with a touch almost like a caress. Surely, surely, there was magic in the air to-night!
Suddenly Lisbeth stopped, flushed and panting.
"Well!" she exclaimed, staring from me to the Imp, and back again, "was ever anything so mad!"
"Everything is mad to-night," I said; "it"s the moon!"
"To think of my running away like this with two--two--"
"Interlopers," I suggested.
"I really ought to be very, very angry with you--both of you, she said, trying to frown.
"No, don"t be angry with us, Auntie Lisbeth," pleaded the Imp, ""cause you are a lovely lady in a castle grim, an" we are two gallant knights, so we had to come an" rescue you; an" you never came to kiss me good-night, an" I"m awfull" sorry "bout painting Dorothy"s face--really!"
"Imp," cried Lisbeth, falling on her knees regardless of her silks and laces, "Imp, come and kiss me." The Imp drew out a decidedly grubby handkerchief, and, having rubbed his lips with it, obeyed.
"Now, Uncle d.i.c.k!" he said, and offered me the grubby handkerchief.
Lisbeth actually blushed.
"Reginald!" she exclaimed, "whatever put such an idea into your head?"
"Oh! everybody"s always kissing somebody you know," he nodded; "an"
it"s Uncle d.i.c.k"s turn now."
Lisbeth rose from her knees and began to pat her rebellious hair into order. Now, as she raised her arms, her shawl very naturally slipped to the ground; and standing there, with her eyes laughing up at me beneath their dark lashes, with the moonlight in her hair, and gleaming upon the snow of her neck and shoulders, she had never seemed quite so bewilderingly, temptingly beautiful before.
"d.i.c.k," she said, "I must go back at once--before they miss me."
"Go back!" I repeated, "never--that is, not yet."
"But suppose any one saw us!" she said, with a hairpin in her mouth.
"They shan"t," I answered; "you will see to that, won"t you, Imp?"
""Course I will, Uncle d.i.c.k!"
"Then go you, Sir Knight, and keep faithful ward behind yon apple tree, and let no base varlet hither come; that is, if you see any one, be sure to tell me." The Imp saluted and promptly disappeared behind the apple tree in question, while I stood watching Lisbeth"s dexterous fingers and striving to remember a line from Keats descriptive of a beautiful woman in the moonlight. Before I could call it to mind, however, Lisbeth interrupted me.
"Don"t you think you might pick up my shawl instead of staring at me as if I was--"
"The most beautiful woman in the world!" I put in.
"Who is catching her death of cold," she laughed, yet for all her light tone her eyes drooped before mine as I obediently wrapped the shawl about her, in the doing of which, my arm being round her, very naturally stayed there, and--wonder of wonders, was not repulsed. And at this very moment, from the shadowy trees behind us, came the rich, clear song of a nightingale.
Oh! most certainly the air was full of magic to-night!
"d.i.c.k," said Lisbeth very softly as the trilling notes died away, "I thought one could only dream such a night as this is."
"And yet life might hold many such for you and me, if you would only let it, Lisbeth," I reminded her. She did not answer.
"Not far from the village of Down, in Kent," I began.
"There stands a house," she put in, staring up at the moon with dreamy eyes.
"A very old house, with twisted Tudor chimneys and pointed gables--you see I have it all by heart, d.i.c.k--a house with wide stairways and long pannelled chambers--"
"Very empty and desolate at present," I added. "And amongst other things, there is a rose-garden--they call it My Lady"s Garden, Lisbeth, though no lady has trod its winding paths for years and years. But I have dreamed, many and many a time, that we stood among the roses, she and I, upon just such another night as this is. So I keep the old house ready and the gardens freshly trimmed, ready for my lady"s coming; must I wait much longer, Lisbeth?" As I ended the nightingale took up the story, pleading my cause for me, filling the air with a melody now appealing, now commanding, until it gradually died away in one long note of pa.s.sionate entreaty.
Lisbeth sighed and turned towards me, but as she did so I felt a tug at my coat, and, looking round, beheld the Imp.
"Uncle d.i.c.k," he said, his eyes studiously averted, doubtless on account of the position of my arm, "here"s Mr. Selwyn!"
With a sudden exclamation Lisbeth started from me and gathered up her skirts to run.
"Whereaway, my Imp?"
"Coming across the lawn."
"Reginald," I said, solemnly, "listen to me; you must sally out upon him with lance in rest, tell him you are a Knight-errant, wishful to uphold the glory of that faire ladye, your Auntie Lisbeth, and whatever happens you must manage to keep him away from here, do you understand?"
"Yes, only I do wish I"d brought my trusty sword, you know," he sighed.
"Never mind that now, Imp."
"Will Auntie Lisbeth be quite--"
"She will be all right."
"I suppose if you put your arm--"
"Never mind my arm, Imp, go!"
"Then fare thee well!" said he, and with a melodramatic flourish of his lance, trotted off.
"What did he mean about your arm, d.i.c.k?"