"Come on now," he said encouragingly to Whitefoot. "Speak--give it tongue! Say good-night to Patsy. She will never know."
And along with his master"s shout there went out towards that single light high on the side of the castle wall, the dog"s cry to which Stair had trained him for night signalling. And it came to the ears of Patsy as she leaned from her high window, long and lonely and bleak as the howl of a wolf, outcasted from the pack.
Patsy shuddered and shut down the window.
CHAPTER XVI
A RIDER COMES TO CASTLE RAINCY
One night the two gentlemen sat over their wine in the dining-room at Castle Raincy, the Earl and Adam Ferris of Cairn Ferris, who had now fallen into the habit of coming every day to the Castle either for dinner or supper--dinner being, according to the fashion of the time, at two and supper at eight. Generally Adam came to supper. In this case he saw more of his daughter, and the old Lord found him right good company, thoughtful and well-informed. Besides, what was best of all, Adam was an excellent listener.
So, sitting toying with the stem of a wine gla.s.s, he heard for the twentieth time the tale of the Earl"s early adventure with Gentleman Cornwallis--how they had vied with each other over neckcloths and fair ladies, how they had fought for three hours, as the Earl said "sticking each other here and there" without any great damage, neither able to get home, and finally how they had their wounds dressed by the same doctor before sitting down to ombre, each man with his bowl of gruel at his elbow, how they bet who should drink both bickers, and how it stood on one throw of the dice--how Cornwallis won, and he, Earl Raincy, duly performed his obligation.
Then came how they ordered in a second supply and played who should swallow that. The Gentleman won again, and he, Raincy, was so full of gruel that he had to have four strong footmen to carry him home!
"By gad, sir, so I was--drunk as an owl on gruel, d.a.m.ned slimy apothecaries" gruel. But I was the better of it, sir, and got well in a week, while Cornwallis had rash and erysipelas and all manner of trouble, because he did not do as his doctor told him! Served him right, say I!"
And at this point, without any announcement, Julian Wemyss suddenly stood before them. He was travel-stained and hollow of cheek. He had manifestly ridden far and hard.
"I beg your pardon, Earl Raincy," he said, bowing courteously, "for thus forcing my way into your presence. But it was necessary that I should at once speak to my brother-in-law, Mr. Adam Ferris. They told me he was here, so I came on."
The Earl welcomed him after saying that he had intended to call upon him at the Abbey Burnfoot as soon as he knew that he was home, he added, "You will find the wine good, Mr. Wemyss. I will now leave you to yourselves. By the way, can I send up anything from the kitchen?--A hungry man, you know, can do no business with a man well dined, as I warrant you Cairn Ferris has!"
But Julian Wemyss begged Lord Raincy to stay. What he had to say concerned him also, or at least his grandson, and all who were interested in Miss Patricia Ferris. As to supper, he had already had something at his own house, where his servant had been instructed to be ready for him.
But he took a gla.s.s of wine, and, after draining it, he said, speaking quietly and leaning a little towards the two gentlemen, "I have had the misfortune to kill my Lord Wargrove in a duel on Calais sands."
"Gad," said the Earl, "if it had only been his master! But so far, so good!"
"Why did you come back here?" put in Adam. "Why did you come back from France?"
"Because in France my work was only half done," Julian spoke gravely.
"There was some one in London whom it was my duty to consult. Whatever happened it was necessary to risk a conference with ... that person. My Lord (here he turned abruptly upon Earl Raincy), Adam there is wholly incapable of bringing up Patsy as she ought. She runs the country--with the adventurous lads who play at smuggling. She comes and goes at her will and not a soul is disquieted about her."
The faint flicker of a smile pa.s.sed over the cheek of the old Earl.
"Well, Mr. Wemyss," he said, "you have known more women than ever I spoke to--for all my frosty poll--and can you say on your conscience that there was ever a one of them more charming, sweeter, or more ladylike than your niece Miss Patricia?"
"That, my Lord, is not the question," said Julian, smiling also and shaking his head. "Patsy is all you say and more. But if she had been better trained and somewhat more under control, she would never have run like a hare to the Wild of Blairmore, the Duke of Lyonesse would have been spared the charge of buckshot in his haunch, and I should not have had the death of Lord Wargrove on my hands."
"Pooh," said the old Earl, "that is what every man runs the risk of.
"Tis not the first time you have held a foil. Who were your seconds?"
"Mine? Oh, Erskine and the Prince of Thurn and Taxis. I was not particularly keen about Erskine, but he has his relations with the court party and would report that all was done in loyalty on both sides. The other seconds? Why, Watford and Queensberry."
"You certainly gave him every chance," said the Earl, leaning back and considering Julian Wemyss, "they are all of his own kidney except the Prince--and him I do not know."
"Oh, the finest blade in Europe," cried Julian, more enthusiastically than he had yet spoken, "and ... a Prince of the Empire."
"I see," said Earl Raincy, "between the two of you, you could have accounted for an army of Duke"s favourites!"
"Perhaps," said Julian Wemyss, "but to get back to what we were saying, the question is what are we to do with Patsy? I do not mean to spend my whole life in exile, and though we simply could not let Wargrove pa.s.s, we cannot go on fighting duels for the sake of this young woman.
Besides, it is bad for Patsy."
"What do you propose, Julian?" said Adam. "I see you have come with a plan all ready made up your sleeve. Out with it, man!"
"Well, I have. There is a great lady in London who wishes to take Patsy and treat her as her own daughter--yes, a lady of the court, but not of the Regency court--the Princess Elsa-Frederica of Saxe-Brunswick--"
The Earl"s eyes dropped suddenly upon the decanter. He put out his hand, and poured himself a gla.s.s. The name was that of one of the King"s near relatives, married to the aged reigning prince of Saxe-Brunswick for reasons of State, but now returned to her family and living at Hanover Lodge close to Kew.
The two men at the table instantly found themselves on the verge of matters as it were within the veil. They looked uncomfortable, almost unhappy, as men do on these occasions. Only Julian Wemyss went on with his usual serenity.
"My friend offered to take the responsibility of Patsy off our hands.
She is a wise woman and a good woman. There lives no man who dares say different--"
At this point both Adam Ferris and the Earl thought of the man in Vienna who had once dared, and whom the gentle-mannered duellist before them had sent quickly to his own place, with no more time given than to retract his words and receive holy absolution. For in the Austria of that time two gentlemen took a priest as well as a doctor with them to the field of honour. Then Adam Ferris remembered his lonely house below the dark green pines and demanded with a sudden darkening of humour, "And how long is this going to last?"
It was on the tip of Julian"s tongue to answer, "Till Patsy is married."
For indeed that had been his real thought. But he only said, "For a year or two, brother--it is better so--she runs the hills like a wild thing.
Why, officers of his Majesty have boasted of having met and talked to her dressed only in yellow sandals and a blue bathing dress!"
"And, pray, whose fault was that?" her father demanded.
"Not mine," said Julian calmly, "she ran to save the Glenanmays lads from the press-gang; and if the sandals were mine, she ran better with them than without."
"So have I heard all that," said my Lord. "But if only she were a daughter of mine, I should not send her to London to be made as commonplace and artificial as everything else about the Hanoverian court."
"That, my Lord," said Julian, "is the opinion of a partial grandfather.
Pardon me for my freedom, but if that boy Louis had been your son, you would have packed him off to dree his weird in the army. And yet he is a wise enough lad, and has come to no great harm--nay, I know him to be both brave and chivalrous--"
"He is a De Raincy," said his grandfather, rather haughtily.
"And as such should have a career," Julian continued without heeding the expression on my Lord"s face.
"I have heard of a man who had the highest prize of the most distinguished of careers right in his grasp, yet one fine day dropped everything to go out in an unstarched linen shirt with another man at six o"clock in the morning!"
"When Louis de Raincy has my reasons for doing the like," said Julian, looking directly at the Earl, "you can welcome him home and let him watch the trees grow in the park. He will have given his proofs and learned the meaning of life."
"I beg your pardon!" said Lord Raincy, "I recognize that what you say is true. I am not sure, however, whether I can afford to let Louis go. But perhaps you came back from France to suggest as much to me."
Julian Wemyss laughed for the first time, a clear light-running laugh very pleasant to hear.
"I own I had it in my mind," he said, "all this night-hawking and saving of entrapped damsels is apt to make a boy romantic. Well, no harm for a while, I say. But if you follow my thought and excuse it--"tis not enough to set up house upon. I have no doubt that your grandson thinks himself over head and ears in love with my niece. What Patsy thinks I do not know--probably that young men were created for that purpose and that one is very like another."
"At his age I should certainly have been most deucedly in love with the lady," said the Earl.