Part 54 (2/2)

But monsieur, the chevalier, had no relish to witness any scene of which he was not the hero; so, after five minutes of decorous silence, he swaggered to her side, with hands thrown up in deprecatory fervor.

”_Ma foi!_ Mademoiselle Marguerite!” he exclaimed, ”accept the consolation of your devoted admirer! Command me, your slave!”

”Leave me,” murmured Margaret, gently. ”Ask a servant to show you--somewhere--the picture-gallery--I will summon you.”

Monsieur Calembours protested that her tender heart did his eloquence high honor, and slid, with many obeisances, to the door, leaving the overwrought girl free at last to suffer the burden of her joy, and to throw herself in an att.i.tude of devotion, and to weep such tears as form the specks of celestial blue in the drab cloud of life.

When in half an hour the French gentleman was conveyed back to Miss Walsingham, he found her calm, serene, and happy-eyed, ready to consult with intelligence and spirit equal to his own upon the course she meant to pursue.

”You will scarcely be surprised to hear,” she said, greeting him with, a beaming smile, ”that I purpose retiring wholly from my position of heiress of Seven-Oak Waaste, and of offering it to Colonel Brand. I am well aware of the pride which impelled him to scorn fighting for his rights with an adventuress, and knowing this, I am sure that no letter from the executors, or myself, would lead him to accept, amicably, his rightful position. So, in order to leave him no room for misunderstanding me, I propose going with one of my advisers to New York and personally urging my determination upon him. He is weak and in bad health, you say”--here the woman's yearning heart spoke out in her glowing eyes--”and I think it in a measure my duty to go and take care of him until he is safe at his own Castle Brand. What do you say to this, sir?”

”Magnificent, Marguerite!” sighed the chevalier; ”but, mademoiselle, let me be your counsellor in this little thing. Duty before pleasure.”

”What duty chevalier?”

”We must give our convict his dose of oak.u.m sweet, _mi ladi_, before we dig the murdered man out of his grave.”

”No, no!” exclaimed Margaret, with a shudder. ”How could you, when St.

Udo was not really slain by him?”

”Nothing easier,” replied the young man, with a dull shrug. ”We know not this thing that Colonel Brand is alive until the murderer is no more, and then we discover our mistake and the heir of Castle Brand at one and the same time. Eh, mademoiselle?”

”Would you cause an innocent man to lose his life?”

”Innocent--_pouf!_ So is the weasel of rats! His _intention_ was not innocent, _m'amie_, and it is too well for him that he should have the return trip to Tasmania for nothing, and make some chain-gang miserable for life. Bah! you Thoms, why did I not kick you oftener? _Mon Dieu!_ how blind we are.”

”I scarcely suppose you are really in earnest with such a proposition,”

said Margaret, fixing her clear eyes incredulously upon him, ”so I shall proceed with my plans. I hope you will not object to my letting this strange communication which you have made be fully known to the executors, and putting myself wholly under their protection through all my movements? My life has been so cruelly attempted, that, though I have no misgivings with regard to you”--she smiled kindly upon her good fairy--”I have been taught too severe a lesson to desire acting without the express protection of my guardians, Mr. Davenport and Dr. Gay.”

”Confide everything to your guardians, mademoiselle,” rejoined the chevalier, with a flourish of his hands outward, as if he was bailing his heart dry, ”and have them both with you if you wish--only do not exclude me from the dear privilege of standing beside to see the hand-grip of reconciliation, and to bless at the proper moment, and to be the good _sorcier_.”

”You shall accompany me,” said Margaret, with bright tears in her eyes, ”and perhaps you shall see the reconciliation.”

”By gar! you are von angel. Now, my satisfaction would be superb if you would but wait until that leetle game was played out with Monsieur Handcuff, and that I should stand by him at the proper moment to see the noose grip, and the drop, and the juggling trick which turns a villain into a human ta.s.sel. Hah!”--rubbing his hand with relish--”I think I see him, the dog!”

”You will go to Mr. Seamore Emersham, who is counsel for the prosecution against Mortlake and tell him, first, that the man has been arrested as a runaway convict; second that his attempt to murder Colonel Brand has proved a failure, and that Colonel Brand is now at New York. Then invite him up to the castle this evening, where you and he will meet the executors, and a consultation can be held upon the subject.”

The chevalier seeing that the young lady was quite deaf to his rather swindling plan of vengeance on Mortlake, smothered his inclinations as if they had been expressed in joke, and agreed to her arrangements; and after a very cordial interview they parted.

In due time the executors were put in possession of Calembour's story, and, made wiser by former mistakes, they gave no signs of incredulity to the florid narrator's wildest flight by which to enhance the value of his services, but treated him as a gentleman; and even agreed in the readiest manner to reward his kindness by the gift of a thousand pounds, as soon as they should obtain St. Udo Brand's consent.

As this involved the speedy unearthing of that heroic treasure, the chevalier became proportionally eager for them to start on their journey of recovery.

Mr. Emersham, with almost a hideous knowledge of how deceitful and desperately wicked the human heart can be, refused to give up his case against Roland Mortlake for the murder of St. Udo Brand, until it was proved beyond all doubt that the latter still lived.

One part of the chevalier's story was found to be quite true, namely, the fact of Roland Mortlake's arrest as a runaway convict, at Canterbury; and presently the rest of his story began to crop out in the general press, and became the theme of conversation at every fireside throughout the country; and the glad _furor_ that got up among the tenants of Seven-Oak Waaste, and the farmers, and the resident gentry, and the houses of rank, sounded in the ears of Margaret Walsingham, and became to her sweet as music.

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