Part 49 (1/2)

When the door closed upon him, Marcella, stretched in the darkness, shed the bitterest tears that had ever yet been hers--tears which transformed her youth--which baptised her, as it were, into the fulness of our tragic life.

She was still weeping when she heard the door softly opened. She sprang up and dried her eyes, but the little figure that glided in was not one to shrink from. Mary Harden came and sat down beside her.

”I knew you would be miserable. Let me come and cry too. I have been my round--have seen them all--and I came to bring you news.”

”How has she taken--the verdict?” asked Marcella, struggling with her sobs, and succeeding at last in composing herself.

”She was prepared for it. Charlie told her when he saw her after you left this afternoon that she must expect it.”

There was a pause.

”I shall soon hear, I suppose,” said Marcella, in a hardening voice, her hands round her knees, ”what Mr. Wharton is doing for the defence. He will appear before the magistrates, I suppose.”

”Yes; but Charlie thinks the defence will be mainly reserved. Only a little more than a fortnight to the a.s.sizes! The time is so short. But now this man has turned informer, they say the case is quite straightforward. With all the other evidence the police have there will be no difficulty in trying them all. Marcella!”

”Yes.”

Had there been light enough to show it, Mary's face would have revealed her timidity.

”Marcella, Charlie asked me to give you a message. He begs you not to--not to make Mrs. Hurd hope too much. He himself believes there is no hope, and it is not kind.”

”Are you and he like all the rest,” cried Marcella, her pa.s.sion breaking out again, ”only eager to have blood for blood?”

Mary waited an instant.

”It has almost broken Charlie's heart,” she said at last; ”but he thinks it was murder, and that Hurd will pay the penalty; nay, more ”--she spoke with a kind of religious awe in her gentle voice--”that he ought to be glad to pay it. He believes it to be G.o.d's will, and I have heard him say that he would even have executions in public again--under stricter regulations of course--that we may not escape, as we always do if we can--from all sight and thought of G.o.d's justice and G.o.d's punishments.”

Marcella shuddered and rose. She almost threw Mary's hand away from her.

”Tell your brother from me, Mary,” she said, ”that his G.o.d is to _me_ just a constable in the service of the English game-laws! If He _is_ such a one, I at least will fling my Everlasting No at him while I live.”

And she swept from the room, leaving Mary aghast.

Meanwhile there was consternation and wrath at Maxwell Court, where Aldous, on his return from Mellor, had first of all given his great-aunt the news of the coroner's verdict, and had then gone on to break to her the putting-off of the marriage. His champions.h.i.+p of Marcella in the matter, and his disavowal of all grievance were so quiet and decided, that Miss Raeburn had been only able to allow herself a very modified strain of comment and remonstrance, so long as he was still there to listen. But she was all the more outspoken when he was gone, and Lady Winterbourne was sitting with her. Lady Winterbourne, who was at home alone, while her husband was with a married daughter on the Riviera, had come over to dine _tete-a-tete_ with her friend, finding it impossible to remain solitary while so much was happening.

”Well, my dear,” said Miss Raeburn, shortly, as her guest entered the room, ”I may as well tell you at once that Aldous's marriage is put off.”

”Put off!” exclaimed Lady Winterbourne, bewildered. ”Why it was only Thursday that I was discussing it all with Marcella, and she told me everything was settled.”

”Thursday!--I dare say!” said Miss Raeburn, st.i.tching away with fiery energy, ”but since then a poacher has murdered one of our gamekeepers, which makes all the difference.”

”What _do_ you mean, Agneta?”

”What I say, my dear. The poacher was Marcella's friend, and she cannot now distract her mind from him sufficiently to marry Aldous, though every plan he has in the world will be upset by her proceedings. And as for his election, you may depend upon it she will never ask or know whether he gets in next Monday or no. That goes without saying. She is meanwhile absorbed with the poacher's defence, _Mr. Wharton_, of course, conducting it. This is your modern young woman, my dear--typical, I should think.”

Miss Raeburn turned her b.u.t.tonhole in fine style, and at lightning speed, to show the coolness of her mind, then with a rattling of all her lockets, looked up and waited for Lady Winterbourne's reflections.

”She has often talked to me of these people--the Hurds,” said Lady Winterbourne, slowly. ”She has always made special friends with them.