Part 35 (1/2)
”Merciful Father!” said the cook, ”I'm in a doldrum; can I be sure that you don't come from Sir Robert Whitecraft, the notorious blackguard?”
”Lanigan, I am w.i.l.l.y Reilly: my voice ought to tell you so; but I wish to see and speak with my dear _Cooleen Bawn_.”
”Oh, my G.o.d, sir!” replied Lanigan, ”but this love makes strange transmigrations. She won't know you, sir.”
”Make your mind easy on that point,” replied Reilly; ”only let her know that I am here.”
”Come down to the kitchen then, sir, and I shall put you into the servants' hall, which branches off it. It is entered, besides, by a different door from that of the kitchen, and while you stay there--and you can pa.s.s into it without going through the kitchen--I will try to let her know where you are. She has at present a maid who was sent by Sir Robert Whitecraft, and she is nothing else than a spy; but it'll go hard, or I'll baffle her.”
He accordingly placed Reilly in the servants' hall, and on his way to the drawing-room met Miss Folliard going to her own apartment, which commanded a view of the front of the house. He instantly communicated to her the fact of Reilly's presence in the servants' hall; ”but,”
added Lanigan, ”you won't know him--his own mother, if she was livin', wouldn't know a bone in his body.”
”Oh!” she replied, whilst her eyes flashed fearfully, in fact, in a manner that startled the cook--”oh! if he is there I shall soon know him. He has a voice, I think--he has a voice! Has he not, Lanigan?”
”Yes, ma'am,” replied Lanigan, ”he has a voice, and a heart too.”
”Oh! yes, yes,” she said, ”I must go to him; they want to marry me to that monster--to that bigot and persecutor, on this very day month; but, Lanigan, it shall never be--death a thousand times sooner than such a union. If they attempt to bind us, death shall cut the link asunder--that I promise you, Lanigan. But I must go to him--I must go to him.”
She ran down the stairs as she spoke, and Lanigan, having looked after her, seemed deeply concerned.
”My G.o.d!” he exclaimed, ”what will become of that sweet girl if she is forced to marry that wealthy scoundrel? I declare to my G.o.d I hardly think she is this moment in her proper senses. There's a fire in her eyes; and something in her manner, that I never observed before. At all events, I have locked the door that opens from the kitchen into the servants' hall, so that they cannot be interrupted from that quarter.”
When the _Cooleen Bawn_ entered, she shrank back instinctively.
The disguise was so complete that she could not impose even on her imagination or her senses. The complexion was different, in fact, quite sallow; the beard long, and the costume such as we have described it.
There was, in fact, something extremely ludicrous in the meeting. Here was an elegant and beautiful young woman of fas.h.i.+on, almost ready, as it were, to throw herself in the arms of a common pauper, with a beard upon him better than half an inch long. As it was, she stopped suddenly and retreated a step or two, saying, as she did so:
”This must be some mistake. Who are you?”
”Helen!”
”Reilly! oh, that voice has set all right. But, my G.o.d, who could know you--in this disguise?”
They approached, and Reilly, seizing her hand, said, ”I will shake hands with you; but until this disguise is off I would consider it sacrilege to approach nearer to your person.”
”No disguise can ever shut you out from my heart, dear Reilly; but what is to be done? I have discovered, by one of my maids, who overheard my father say, in a short soliloquy--'Well, thank G.o.d, she'll be Sir Robert's wife within a month, and then my mind will be easy at last.'
Oh! I'm glad you did not leave this country. But, as I said, what is to be done? What will become of us?”
”Under our peculiar circ.u.mstances,” replied Reilly, ”the question cannot, for the present at least, be answered. As for leaving the country, I might easily have done it, but I could not think of leaving you to the snares and windings of that villain. I declare solemnly, I would rather die than witness a union between you and him.”
”But what, think you, should I feel? You would be only a spectator of the sacrifice, whereas I should be the victim.”
”Do not be cast down, my love; whilst I have life, and a strong arm, it snail never be. Before I go I shall make arrangements with Lanigan when and where to see you again.”
”It will be a matter of some difficulty,” she replied, ”for I am now under the strictest surveillance. I am told, and I feel it, that Whitecraft has placed a spy upon all my motions.”
”How is that?” inquired Reilly. ”Are you not under the protection of your father, who, when occasion is necessary, has both pride and spirit?”
”But my poor credulous father is, notwithstanding, easily imposed on. I know not exactly the particulars,” replied the lovely girl, ”but I can easily suspect them. My father it was, certainly, who discharged my last maid, Ellen Connor, because, he said, he did not like her, and because, he added, he would put a better and a more trustworthy one in her place.