They be reconciled agin. But I needn"t be tellin" ye that: I s"pose it"s all wrote inside the package. Now, mistress, I must away, an" get back to him as sent me. Good mornin"."
With another grotesque attempt at polite salutation, the deliverer of the message walked hurriedly away; and was soon lost to the sight of its trembling recipient.
Marion had listened to his words without knowing their wicked design-- without even suspecting that they were false. But, false or true, she did not imagine there could be a new pang conveyed in their meaning.
She had already felt the sting, as she supposed,--in all its black bitterness! She did not believe that in the same quiver, there was another arrow, bearing upon its point a still more potent poison.
She felt it, as with trembling fingers she broke the seal, and tore open the envelope of that tiny parcel. To her heart"s core she felt it, as her eyes rested upon the contents. Her token returned to her--that fatal gift--_the White Gauntlet_! The glove dropped to the ground; and, with a suppressed scream--that sounded like the knell of a shattered heart--sank Marion Wade beside it! For some moments she lay along the gra.s.s, like some beautiful statue struck down from its pedestal.
She was not unconscious--only unnerved, and rendered powerless by a strong, quick spasm of despair.
Beyond the stifled scream, that escaped her as she fell, no sound pa.s.sed from her lips. Hers was a despair that speech was incapable of relieving. There was nothing on which hope could hinge itself. The restored token told the tale in all its sad reality. A letter--a volume could not have conveyed the information more fully. _Holtspur no longer loved her_!
There was even a more fell reflection. _He had never loved her_: else how could he have changed so soon?
The paroxysm at length pa.s.sed; and the prostrate form once more stood erect. Erect, but not triumphant. Sad and subdued was the spirit that animated it--almost shivered by that fearful shock.
In silent agony she turned to go homeward. She no more remembered the errand that had summoned her forth. It was no longer of any importance.
The information she would have sought had met her on the way--had been communicated, with a fullness and surety that left nothing to be added.
_Holtspur loved her no more_. With that thought in her mind, what mattered it whether he were married or no? But the words of the messenger had equally ended all doubt of this. If there might be any lingering uncertainty, as to what she had heard, there could be none as to what she saw. There lay the White Gauntlet under her eyes--down among the weeds. It lay neglected as if without an owner--no more to be regarded by Marion Wade; or only as the cause of a life-long anguish.
Slowly and sadly she retraced the forest path; slowly and sadly she re-entered the gateway of the park; slowly and sadly walked back along that avenue, once trodden by her with a bosom filled with supremest joy.
Volume Three, Chapter XIV.
The course which Scarthe was pursuing may seem strange. He now knew that for the hand of Marion Wade, Holtspur could not be his rival. What then could be his motive for sending back the _glove_: for motive there must have been?
There was one; though to say the truth it was not very definite.
He was still uncertain as to the state of Marion"s heart--still in doubt whether the white gauntlet had or had not been a _guage d"amour_. If the former, then the restoring of it as designed by him might produce a revulsion of feeling in his own favour; if not, no evil could result to him from the act.
On his side the sending back, of the glove was a mere conjectural experiment--made under a vague fancy that it might, to some little extent, further his interests. If in the mind of Marion Wade there existed a partiality for the patriot conspirator, a slight such as that should crush out every vestige of the feeling, and create a reaction in favour of the first fresh lover who might present himself--Richard Scarthe more likely than any other. Little did he antic.i.p.ate the terrible effect which that returned token, with the message that accompanied it, would have upon her who was to receive it. He knew nothing of the strange conditions which the lovers had arranged at their last parting.
He had too much experience in the heart of woman to have reasoned thus-- had he not been purblind with his own pa.s.sion. In this condition, however, he gave way to a fancy, that, under other circ.u.mstances, he would have instantly rejected.
He was also influenced by considerations of a very different kind. The hand of Marion Wade was almost as desirable as her heart--or rather the fortune that should accompany it. The cuira.s.sier captain possessed but his pay--along with proud patronage it is true--but, neither was anything to make him, what he should become as the son-in-law of Sir Marmaduke Wade.
The crisis had arrived to attempt bringing about this desired relationship. It must not be delayed. The power he possessed for its accomplishment might at any moment pa.s.s out of his hands. The times were uncertain; and procrastination might imperil his chances of success.
The sending of the glove was the first move in the matrimonial scheme he had concocted. It was to be followed by an offer of his hand. If the offer should be accepted, well; if not, then stronger measures were to be adopted.
Such was the programme that had pa.s.sed through the mind of Richard Scarthe, and was still before it, as he paced the floor of his apartment, an hour after having dismissed the messenger Walford.
"I wonder," said he, as he reflected upon the importance of time, "when the fellow Walford will succeed in delivering his false message? He"s but a dull-brained dolt; though knave enough for that, or anything else.
I hope he won"t be so stupid as to bring it back to the house; or give it her in the presence of any one. Surely he will have understood my instructions about that? I told him to watch for her till she walked abroad, and alone. But when may that be? Perhaps not to-day; nor to-morrow; nor for many days? I"m burning with impatience to bring the business to a conclusion. What, after all my well-conceived strategy, if--Ho! who comes yonder? By Heaven! "tis Walford! What brings the brute back? From the grin upon that hideous countenance of his-- intended no doubt for a smile--one might fancy he had already accomplished his errand. I must go forth and meet him--before he shows himself in front of the windows. It"s early yet, and I see no one abroad; still some of them may be astir inside? He must not be seen coming here."
With this reflection, Scarthe seized his beaver; and, flinging it upon his head, sallied forth from the house.
In the thick of the shrubbery he encountered the returning envoy.
"Well, Walford," said he, "what has brought you back so soon? Has anything miscarried?"
"Not as I knows on, Master capten. Only as bein" an early bird this mornin" I ha" picked up the early wurum."
"Ah! what mean you by that?"
"I gin it to her."
"Gin it to her? What, and to whom?"
"The packidge--to the young lady."
"What, you don"t say that you have seen--"
"Mistress Marion? Sartintly I do, Master capten. Seed her; gied her the packidge; an" sayed, what you told me to say."
"When? Where?"
"For the first--it han"t been gone a half-hour since the words pa.s.sed out o" my mouth; and as to the where, that war "bout a mile from heear-- on the wood road as runs from the Park to Stone Dean."
"She there at this hour? You must be mistaken, my man?"
"No mistake about it, Master capten; I seed her, and spoke to her, as you bid me. I"ve seed her a many a time along that road. It be a favourite ride wi" her; but she bean"t a horseback this mornin". She be afut."
"And alone, you say?"
"Sartinly, Master: else how could I ha" gied her the packidge? You told me to let no one see me handin" it to her."
"This is strange," muttered Scarthe to himself. "You are sure there was no one near her?"
"I seed ne"er a creetur."
"What was she doing?"
"Nothin", Capten; only standing under a tree--the big beech as grows in the middle o" the road. I went up to her pretty quick, lest she might gi" me the slip. After I put the packidge in her hand, and sayed what you told me, I coomed directly away."
"You left her there?"
"Left her, just as I found her--under the big beech."
"And you met no one, as you returned along the road?"
"Neither met nor pa.s.sed a sinner."
"You think she may be there still? You say you came direct?"
"Straight as the road "ud let me, Capten. I won"t say she be theear still--that are, under the tree; but she ain"t got home as yet: for I coomed as fast as my legs "ud carry me. I knew you didn"t want me seen about here, and thought I would be safest to coom up afore the sarvints were stirrin". She beean"t got home yet, nor half o" the way--even supposin" she set off right after me."
"The road to Stone Dean, you say?"