Volume Ii Part 45 (1/2)
”I will go, too, presently: I do not think anybody will be here to-night.”
”Is ? are there ? is this what has taken him away?” said Hugh.
Her silence and her look told him; and then, laying her cheek again alongside of his, she whispered (how unsteadily!) ?
”We have only one help, dear Hugh.”
They were still and quiet again for minutes, counting the pulses of pain, till Fleda came back to her poor wish ”to keep what they could.” She mixed a restorative of wine and water, which, however little desired, she felt was necessary for both of them, and Hugh went up stairs. She staid a few minutes to prepare another gla.s.s, with particular care, for her aunt. It was just finished, and, taking her candle, she had bid Barby good night, when there came a loud rap at the front door.
Fleda set down candle and gla.s.s, from the quick inability to hold them, as well as for other reasons, and she and Barby stood and looked at each other, in such a confusion of doubt and dread, that some little time had pa.s.sed before either stirred even her eyes. Barby then threw down the tongs, with which she had begun to make preparations for covering up the fire, and set off to the front.
”You mustn't open the door, Barby,” cried Fleda, following her. ”Come in here, and let us look out of one of the windows.”
Before this could be reached, however, there was another prolonged repet.i.tion of the first thundering burst. It went through Fleda's heart, because of the two up stairs who must hear it.
Barby threw up the sash.
”Who's there?”
”Is this Mr. Rossitur's place?” inquired a gruff voice.
”Yes, it is.”
”Well will you come round and open the door?”
”Who wants it open?”
”A lady wants it open.”
”A lady! ? what lady?”
”Down yonder, in the carriage.”
”What lady? ? who is she?”
”I don't know who she is: she wanted to come to Mr. Rossitur's place. Will you open the door for her?”
Barby and Fleda both now saw a carriage standing in the road.
”We must see who it is first,” whispered Fleda.
”When the lady comes, I'll open the door,” was Barby's ultimatum.
The man withdrew to the carriage, and, after a few moments of intense watching, Fleda and Barby certainly saw something in female apparel enter the little gate of the court-yard, and come up over the bright, moonlit snow towards the house, accompanied by a child; while the man with whom they had had the interview came behind, transformed into an unmistakable baggage-carrier.
CHAPTER XIII.
”Zeal was the spring whence flowed her hardiment.”
FAIRFAX.