Part 35 (1/2)
”I have it!” he exclaimed. ”That old hag Lovisa is at the bottom of this!”
”By Jove!” cried Errington. ”I believe you're right! What shall we do?”
At that moment, Lorimer, Duprez, and Macfarlane came on the scene, thinking they had kept aloft long enough,--and the strange disappearance of the two girls was rapidly explained to them. They listened astonished and almost incredulous, but agreed with the _bonde_ as to Lovisa's probable share in the matter.
”Look here!” said Lorimer excitedly. ”I'm not in the least tired,--show me the way to Talvig, where that old screech-owl lives, and I'll go there straight as a gun! Shouldn't wonder if she has not forced away her grandchild, in which case Miss Thelma may have gone after her.”
”I'll come with you!” said Errington. ”Let's lose no time about it.”
But Guldmar shook his head. ”'Tis a long way, my lads,--and you do not know the road. No--'twill be better we should take the boat and pull over to Bosekop; there we can get a carriole to take two of us at least to Talvig--”
He stopped, interrupted by Macfarlane, who looked particularly shrewd.
”I should certainly advise ye to try Bosekop first,” he remarked cautiously. ”Mr. Dyceworthy might be able to provide ye with valuable information.”
”Dyceworthy!” roared the _bonde_, becoming inflammable at once. ”He knows little of me or mine, thank the G.o.ds! and I would not by choice step within a mile of his dwelling. What makes you think of him, sir?”
Lorimer laid a hand soothingly on his arm.
”Now, my dear Mr. Guldmar, don't get excited! Mac is right. I dare say Dyceworthy knows as much in his way as the ancient Lovisa. At any rate, it isn't his fault if he does not. Because you see--” Lorimer hesitated and turned to Errington. ”You tell him, Phil! you know all about it.”
”The fact is,” said Errington, while Guldmar gazed from one to the other in speechless amazement, ”Thelma hasn't told you because she knew how angry you'd be--but Dyceworthy asked her to marry him. Of course she refused him, and I doubt if he's taken his rejection very resignedly.”
The face of the old farmer as he heard these words was a study. Wonder, contempt, pride, and indignation struggled for the mastery on his rugged features.
”Asked--her--to--marry--him!” he repeated slowly. ”By the sword of Odin!
Had I known it I would have throttled him!” His eyes blazed and he clenched his hand. ”Throttled him, lads! I would! Give me the chance and I'll do it now! I tell you, the mere look of such a man as that is a desecration to my child,--liar and hypocrite as he is! may the G.o.ds confound him!” He paused--then suddenly bracing himself up, added. ”I'll away to Bosekop at once--they've been afraid of me there for no reason--I'll teach them to be afraid of me in earnest! Who'll come with me?”
All eagerly expressed their desire to accompany him with the exception of one,--Pierre Duprez,--he had disappeared.
”Why, where has he gone?” demanded Lorimer in some surprise.
”I canna tell,” replied Macfarlane. ”He just slipped awa' while ye were haverin' about Dyceworthy--he'll maybe join us at the sh.o.r.e.”
To the sh.o.r.e they at once betook themselves, and were soon busied in unmooring Guldmar's own rowing-boat, which, as it had not been used for some time, was rather a tedious business,--moreover they noted with concern that the tide was dead against them.
Duprez did not appear,--the truth is, that he had taken into his head to start off for Talvig on foot without waiting for the others. He was fond of an adventure and here was one that suited him precisely--to rescue distressed damsels from the grasp of persecutors. He was tired, but he managed to find the road,--and he trudged on determinedly, humming a song of Beranger's as he walked to keep him cheerful. But he had not gone much more than a mile when he discerned in the distance a carriole approaching him,--and approaching so swiftly that it appeared to swing from side to side of the road at imminent risk of upsetting altogether.
There seemed to be one person in it--an excited person too, who lashed the stout little pony and urged it on to fresh exertions with gesticulations and cries. That plump buxom figure--that tumbled brown hair streaming wildly on, the breeze,--that round rosy face--why! it was Britta! Britta, driving all alone, with the reckless daring of a Norwegian peasant girl accustomed to the swaying, jolting movement of the carriole as well as the rough roads and sharp turnings. Nearer she came and nearer--and Duprez hailed her with a shout of welcome. She saw him, answered his call, and drove still faster,--soon she came up beside him, and without answering his amazed questions, she cried breathlessly--
”Jump in--jump in! We must go on as quickly as possible to Bosekop!
Quick--quick! Oh my poor Froken! The old villain! Wait till I get at him!”
”But, my _leet-le_ child!” expostulated Pierre, climbing up into the queer vehicle--”What is all this? I am in astonishment--I understand not at all! How comes it that you are run away from home, and Mademoiselle also?”
Britta only waited till he was safely seated, and then lashed the pony with redoubled force. Away they clattered at a break-neck pace, the Frenchman having much ado to prevent himself from being jolted out again on the road.
”It is a wicked plot!” she then exclaimed, panting with excitement--”a wicked, wicked plot! This afternoon Mr. Dyceworthy's servant came and brought Sir Philip's card. It said that he had met with an accident and had been brought back to Bosekop, and that he wished the Froken to come to him at once. Of course, the darling believed it all--and she grew so pale, so pale! And she went straight away in her boat all by herself! Oh my dear--my dear!”
Britta gasped for breath, and Duprez soothingly placed an arm round her waist, an action which the little maiden seemed not to be aware of. She resumed her story--”Then the Froken had not been gone so very long, and I was watching for her in the garden, when a woman pa.s.sed by--a friend of my grandmother's. She called out--'Hey, Britta! Do you know they have got your mistress down at Talvig, and they'll burn her for a witch before they sleep!' 'She has gone to Bosekop,' I answered, 'so I know you tell a lie.' 'It is no lie,' said the old woman, 'old Lovisa has her this time for sure.' And she laughed and went away. Well, I did not stop to think twice about it--I started off for Talvig at once--I ran nearly all the way. I found my grandmother alone--I asked her if she had seen the Froken? She screamed and clapped her hands like a mad woman! she said that the Froken was with Mr. Dyceworthy--Mr. Dyceworthy would know what to do with her!”
”_Sapristi!_” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Duprez. ”This is serious!”
Britta glanced anxiously at him, and went on. ”Then she tried to shut the doors upon me and beat me--but I escaped. Outside I saw a man I knew with his carriole, and I borrowed it of him and came back as fast as I could--but oh! I am so afraid--my grandmother said such dreadful things!”