Part 20 (1/2)
”Come with me now,” said Charles; ”you ought not to be standing here in the dew.”
”Ha, ha! what a jealous master,” she said; but she put her arm into his, saying with a courtesy, ”Thank you, Master Oakshott, lords must be obeyed. I should have been still buried in the old coach but for you.”
Peregrine fell back to Anne. ”That blaze is at St. Helen's,” he began. ”That--what! will you not wait a moment?”
”No, no! They will want to be going home.”
”And have you forgotten that it is only just over Midsummer? This is the week of my third seventh--the moment for change. O Anne!
make it a change for the better. Say the word, and the die will be cast. All is ready! Come!”
He tried to take her hand, but the vehemence of his words, spoken under his breath, terrified her, and with a hasty ”No, no! you know not what you talk of,” she hastened after her friends, and was glad to find herself in the safe haven of the interior of the coach.
Ere long they drove down the hill, and at the place of parting were set down, the last words in Anne's ears being Mrs. Archfield's injunctions not to forget the orange flower-water at the sign of the Flower Pot, drowning Lucy's tearful farewells.
As they walked away in the moonlight a figure was seen in the distance.
”Is that Peregrine Oakshott?” asked the Doctor. ”That young man is in a desperate mood, ready to put a quarrel on any one. I hope no harm will come of it.”
CHAPTER XIV: GATHERING MOUSE-EAR
”I heard the groans, I marked the tears, I saw the wound his bosom bore.”
SCOTT.
After such an evening it was not easy to fall asleep, and Anne tossed about, heated, restless, and uneasy, feeling that to remain at home was impossible, yet less satisfied about her future prospects, and doubtful whether she had not done herself harm by attending last night's rejoicings, and hoping that nothing would happen to reveal her presence there.
She was glad that the night was not longer, and resolved to take advantage of the early morning to fulfil a commission of Lady Oglethorpe, whose elder children, Lewis and Theophilus, had the whooping-cough. Mouse-ear, namely, the little sulphur-coloured hawk-weed, was, and still is, accounted a specific, and Anne had been requested to bring a supply--a thing easily done, since it grew plentifully in the court of the castle.
She dressed herself in haste, made some of her preparations for the journey, and let herself out of the house, going first for one last look at her mother's green grave in the dewy churchyard, and gathering from it a daisy, which she put into her bosom, then in the fair morning freshness, and exhilaration of the rising sun, crossing the wide tilt-yard, among hayc.o.c.ks waiting to be tossed, and arriving at the court within, filling her basket between the churchyard and the gateway tower and keep, when standing up for a moment she was extremely startled to see Peregrine Oakshott's unmistakable figure entering at the postern of the court.
With vague fears of his intentions, and instinctive terror of meeting him alone, heightened by that dread of his power, she flew in at the great bailey tower door, hoping that he had not seen her, but tolerably secure that even if he had, and should pursue her, she was sufficiently superior in knowledge of the stairs and pa.s.sages to baffle him, and make her way along the battlements to the tower at the corner of the court nearest the parsonage, where there was a turret stair by which she could escape.
Up the broken stairs she went, shutting behind her every available door in the chambers and pa.s.sages, but not as quickly as she wished, since attention to her feet was needful in the ruinous state of steps and walls. Through those ma.s.sive walls she could hear nothing distinctly, but she fancied voices and a cry, making her seek more intricate windings, nor did she dare to look out till she had gained a thick screen of bushy ivy at the corner of the turret, where a little door opened on the broad summit of the battlemented wall.
Then, what horror was it that she beheld? Or was it a dream? She even pa.s.sed her hands over her face and looked again. Peregrine and Charles, yes, it was Charles Archfield, were fighting with swords in the court beneath. She gave a shriek, in a wild hope of parting them, but at that instant she saw Peregrine fall, and with the impulse of rus.h.i.+ng to aid she hurried down, impeded however by stumbles, and by the doors, she herself had shut, and when she emerged, she saw only Charles, standing like one dazed and white as death.
”O Mr Archfield! where is he? What have you done?” The young man pointed to the opening of the vault. Then, speaking with an effort, ”He was quite dead; my sword went through him. He forced it on me-- he was pursuing you. I withstood him--and--”
He gasped heavily as the words came one by one. She trembled exceedingly, and would have looked into the vault, with, ”Are you quite sure?” but he grasped her hand and withheld her.
”Only too sure! Yes, I have done it! It could not be helped. I would give myself up at once, but, Anne, there is my wife. They tell me any shock would kill her as she is now. I should be double murderer. Will you keep the secret, Anne, always my friend? And 'twas for you.”
”Indeed, indeed, I will not betray you. I go away in two hours,”
said Anne; and he caught her hand. ”But oh!” and she pointed to the blood on the gra.s.s, then with sudden thought, ”Heap the hay over it,” running to fill her arms with the lately-cut gra.s.s.
He mechanically did the same, and then they stood for a moment, awe- stricken.