Part 41 (1/2)

He took the bridle-path through Maudeley, and was presently aware, in a clearing of the wood, of the figure of Meynell in front of him.

The Rector was walking in haste, without his dogs. He was therefore out on business, which indeed was implied by the energy of his whole movement.

He looked round, frowning as Stephen overtook him.

”Is that you, Stephen? Are you going home?”

”Yes. And you?”

Meynell did not immediately reply. The autumn wood, a splendour of gold and orange leaf overhead, of red-brown leaf below, with pa.s.sages here and there where the sun struck through the beech trees, of purest lemon-yellow, or intensest green, breathed and murmured round them. A light wind sang in the tree-tops, and every now and then the plain broke in--purple through the gold; with its dim colliery chimneys, its wreaths of smoke, and its paler patches which stood for farms and villages.

Meynell walked by the horse in silence for a while, till, suddenly wiping a hot brow, he turned and looked at Stephen.

”I think I shall have to tell you, Stephen, where I am going, and why,”

he said, eyeing the young man with a deprecating look, almost a look of remorse.

Stephen stared at him in silence.

”Flaxman walked home with me last night--came into the Rectory, and told me that--yesterday--he saw Meryon and Hester together--in Hewlett's wood--as you know, a lonely place where n.o.body goes. It was a great blow to me. I had every reason to believe him safely out of the neighbourhood.

All his servants have clearly been instructed to lie--and Hester!--well, I won't trust myself to say what I think of her conduct! I went up this morning to see her--found the whole household in confusion! n.o.body knew where Hester was. She had gone out immediately after breakfast, with the maid who is supposed to be always with her. Then suddenly--about an hour later--one of the boys appeared, having seen this woman at the station--and no Hester. The woman, taken by surprise--young Fox-Wilton just had a few words with her as the train was moving off--confessed she was going into Markborough to meet Hester and come back with her. She didn't know where Miss Hester was. She had left her in the village, and was to meet her at a shop in Markborough. After that, things began to come out. The butler told tales. The maid is clearly an unprincipled hussy, and has probably been in Meryon's pay all the time--”

”Where is Hester?--where are you going to?” cried Stephen in impatient misery, slipping from his horse, as he spoke, to walk beside the Rector.

”In my belief she is at Sandford Abbey.”

”At Sandford!” cried the young man under his breath. ”Visit that scoundrel in his own house!”

”It appears she has once or twice declared that, in spite of us all, she would go and see his house and his pictures. In my belief, she has done it this morning. It is her last chance. We go to Paris to-morrow.

However, we shall soon know.”

The Rector pushed on at redoubled speed. Stephen kept up with him, his lips twitching.

”Why did you separate us?” he broke out at last, in a low, bitter voice.

And yet he knew why--or suspected! But the inner smart was so great he could not help the reproach.

”I tried to act for the best,” said Meynell, after a moment, his eyes on the ground.

Stephen watched his friend uncertainly. Again and again he was on the point of crying out--

”Tell me the truth about Hester!”--on the point also of warning and informing the man beside him. But he had promised his father. He held his tongue with difficulty.

When they reached the spot where Stephen's path diverged from that which led by a small bridge across the famous trout-stream to Sandford Abbey, Stephen suddenly halted.

”Why shouldn't I come too? I'll wait at the lodge. She might like to ride home. She can sit anything--with any saddle. I taught her.”

”Well--perhaps,” said Meynell dubiously. And they went on together.

Presently Sandford Abbey emerged above the road, on a rising ground--a melancholy, dilapidated pile; and they struck into a long and neglected evergreen avenue leading up to it. At the end of the avenue there was an enclosure and a lodge, with some iron gates. A man saw them, and came out to the gate.