Part 32 (1/2)
You never will know until I am your--your--wife.” The last word was spoken in a soft, hesitating whisper, and her head sought shamefaced refuge on John's breast. Of course the magic word ”wife” on Dorothy's lips aroused John to action, and--but a cloud at that moment pa.s.sed over the moon and kindly obscured the scene.
”You do not blame me, John,” said Dorothy, ”because I cannot go with you to-night? You do not blame me?”
”Indeed I do not, my G.o.ddess,” answered John. ”You will soon be mine. I shall await your pleasure and your own time, and when you choose to come to me--ah, then--” And the kindly cloud came back to the moon.
CHAPTER X
THOMAS THE MAN SERVANT
After a great effort of self-denial John told Dorothy it was time for her to return to the Hall, and he walked with her down Bowling Green Hill to the wall back of the terrace garden.
Dorothy stood for a moment on the stile at the old stone wall, and John, clasping her hand, said:--
”You will perhaps see me sooner than you expect,” and then the cloud considerately floated over the moon again, and John hurried away up Bowling Green Hill.
Dorothy crossed the terrace garden, going toward the door since known as ”Dorothy's Postern.” She had reached the top of the postern steps when she heard her father's voice, beyond the north wall of the terrace garden well up toward Bowling Green Hill. John, she knew, was at that moment climbing the hill. Immediately following the sound of her father's voice she heard another voice--that of her father's retainer, Sir John Guild. Then came the word ”Halt!” quickly followed by the report of a fusil, and the sharp clinking of swords upon the hillside. She ran back to the wall, and saw the dimly outlined forms of four men. One of them was John, who was retreating up the hill. The others were following him. Sir George and Sir John Guild had unexpectedly returned from Derby. They had left their horses with the stable boys and were walking toward the kitchen door when Sir George noticed a man pa.s.s from behind the corner of the terrace garden wall and proceed up Bowling Green Hill. The man of course was John.
Immediately Sir George and Guild, accompanied by a servant who was with them, started in pursuit of the intruder, and a moment afterward Dorothy heard her father's voice and the discharge of the fusil. She climbed to the top of the stile, filled with an agony of fear. Sir George was fifteen or twenty yards in advance of his companion, and when John saw that his pursuers were attacking him singly, he turned and quickly ran back to meet the warlike King of the Peak. By a few adroit turns with his sword John disarmed his antagonist, and rus.h.i.+ng in upon him easily threw him to the ground by a wrestler's trick. Guild and the servant by that time were within six yards of Sir George and John.
”Stop!” cried Manners, ”your master is on the ground at my feet. My sword point is at his heart. Make but one step toward me and Sir George Vernon will be a dead man.”
Guild and the servant halted instantly.
”What are your terms?” cried Guild, speaking with the haste which he well knew was necessary if he would save his master's life.
”My terms are easy,” answered John. ”All I ask is that you allow me to depart in peace. I am here on no harmful errand, and I demand that I may depart and that I be not followed nor spied upon by any one.”
”You may depart in peace,” said Guild. ”No one will follow you; no one will spy upon you. To this I pledge my knightly word in the name of Christ my Saviour.”
John at once took his way unmolested up the hill and rode home with his heart full of fear lest his tryst with Dorothy had been discovered.
Guild and the servant a.s.sisted Sir George to rise, and the three started down the hill toward the stile where Dorothy was standing. She was hidden from them, however, by the wall. Jennie Faxton, who had been on guard while John and Dorothy were at the gate, at Dorothy's suggestion stood on top of the stile where she could easily be seen by Sir George when he approached.
”When my father comes here and questions you,” said Dorothy to Jennie Faxton, ”tell him that the man whom he attacked was your sweetheart.”
”Never fear, mistress,” responded Jennie. ”I will have a fine story for the master.”
Dorothy crouched inside the wall under the shadow of a bush, and Jennie waited on the top of the stile. Sir George, thinking the girl was Dorothy, lost no time in approaching her. He caught her roughly by the arm and turned her around that he might see her face.
”By G.o.d, Guild,” he muttered, ”I have made a mistake. I thought the girl was Doll.”
He left instantly and followed Guild and the servant to the kitchen door.
When Sir George left the stile, Dorothy hastened back to the postern of which she had the key, and hurried toward her room. She reached the door of her father's room just in time to see Sir George and Guild enter it.
They saw her, and supposed her to be myself. If she hesitated, she was lost. But Dorothy never hesitated. To think, with her, was to act. She did not of course know that I was still in her apartments. She took the chance, however, and boldly followed Sir John Guild into her father's room. There she paused for a moment that she might not appear to be in too great haste, and then entered Aunt Dorothy's room where I was seated, waiting for her.
”Dorothy, my dear child,” exclaimed Lady Crawford, clasping her arms about Dorothy's neck.
”There is no time to waste in sentiment, Aunt Dorothy,” responded the girl. ”Here are your sword and cloak, Malcolm. I thank you for their use.
Don them quickly.” I did so, and walked into Sir George's room, where that worthy old gentleman was dressing a slight wound in the hand. I stopped to speak with him; but he seemed disinclined to talk, and I left the room. He soon went to the upper court, and I presently followed him.