Part 28 (2/2)
”You wish me to be utterly silent on the subject?”
”Well, yes, my dear; it is by far the safest plan.”
She pondered deeply for a few minutes.
”I promise to keep my convictions to myself, until I have found such proofs against him as will satisfy you and Mr. Davenport.”
”Has Colonel Brand left the castle?” asked the doctor, as the lodge-keeper opened the gates.
”No sir: there he is”--pointing under the trees--”him and his doag. It comed tearing oop from the village like a mad thing, an hour agone, and yelped like a frog until its maister comed to it.”
There under the naked trees, kicking up the withered leaves in the little clouds, shuffled the colonel, with head dropped on his breast, and folded arms; so deep in reverie that he seemed unconscious of all outside of his own brain.
Round and round he walked in an idle circle upon the leaf padded park under the naked trees, and the long tan sleuth-hound glided after him with dropped nose and stealthy tread, as if he, too, were tracking game; and a malicious fancy might have suggested that the man was followed by a moral shadow of himself.
”There he lurks,” spoke Margaret, with loathing scorn, as they left the lodge behind; ”patient, lean sleuth-hound upon the scent, and watching for the moment to spring. Is that the gay and reckless St. Udo Brand--the brave soldier and the idol of women--the man who scorned a presumed fortune-hunter, and left all for love? Does the blood of good Ethel Brand flow in the veins of such a hound as yonder schemer? He would lick the dust of my feet for money--he whom you insult the memory of the Brands by believing in!”
”a.s.suredly the girl is touched,” thought Gay.
They almost drove upon the colonel before he was aware of them, and so noiseless had been their approach that he appeared utterly bewildered with consternation when Gay addressed him.
”A bleak day, colonel.”
”Yes, a bleak day, a very bleak day,” said the wily voice, while the twitching face slowly got into company order.
”Having a walk about the oaks, sir? Rather desolate-looking at this time of the year.”
”Particularly desolate up at the castle, doctor. I was glad to turn out and bear Argus company. Is Miss Walsingham sufficiently wrapped for this cold wind?”
”Oh, I hope so,” answered Gay, looking in vain for a reply in Margaret's stern face.
”She has been taking a little drive with me, I picked her up on the road there.”
”Little drive,” repeated Colonel Brand, with a slightly sarcastic emphasis, ”preceded by a little walk. Did you find our friend Davenport at his post my dear lady?”
Margaret started, and turned her flas.h.i.+ng eyes upon the smiling interrogator.
”By what unworthy means have you ascertained my movements?” she demanded.
”Why, dear Miss Walsingham, your housekeeper informed me, when I asked her the cause of your abrupt departure from me, that you had gone to see Mr. Davenport.”
The girl sat staring at him in dumb indignation. She had communicated her design to no one in the house and the colonel was telling her a lie to her very face. It was perfectly patent to her that he had dogged her footsteps.
”Are you coming up to Castle Brand?” asked Gay, nervously staving off an expected explosion.
”I--think not,” answered the colonel, with a glance baleful as dead lights on a grave; ”Miss Walsingham evidently is indifferent to my society. Why, do you know, doctor, I came here to-day expecting a delightful afternoon with her in the library, where first we met, and, like the lonely Marguerite of wicked Faust, she melted from my view, and I found but Mephistopheles taunting me at my elbow in the shape of old memories of years which might have been better spent--called up by the a.s.sociations of the room.”
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