Mrs. Ryder made an agitated motion with her hand, and gave the girl such
a look withal, that she retired precipitately.
But Mrs. Gaunt had caught the words, and they literally transformed her.
She sprang off the bed, and stood erect, and looked a Saxon Pythoness:
golden hair streaming down her back, and gray eyes gleaming with fury.
She caught up a little ivory-handled knife, and held it above her head.
"I'll drive this into his heart before them all," she cried, "and tell
them the reason _afterwards_."
Ryder looked at her for a moment in utter terror. She saw a woman with
grander passions than herself; a woman that looked quite capable of
executing her sanguinary threat. Ryder made no more ado, but slipped out
directly to prevent a meeting that might be attended with terrible
consequences.
She found her master in the kitchen, splashed with mud, drinking a horn
of ale after his ride, and looking rather troubled and anxious; and, by
the keen eye of her sex, she saw that the female servants were also in
considerable anxiety. The fact is, they had just extemporized a lie.
Tom Leicester, being near the kitchen window, had seen Griffith ride
into the court-yard.
At sight of that well-known figure, he drew back, and his heart quaked
at his own imprudence, in confiding Griffith's secret to Caroline Ryder.
"Lasses," said he, hastily, "do me a kindness for old acquaintance.
Here's the Squire. For Heaven's sake, don't let him know I am in the
house, or there will be bloodshed between us. He is a hasty man, and I'm
another. I'll tell ye more by and by."
The next moment Griffith's tread was heard approaching the very door,
and Leicester darted into the housekeeper's room, and hid in a cupboard
there.
Griffith opened the kitchen door, and stood upon the threshold.
The women courtesied to him, and were loud in welcome.
He returned their civilities briefly; and then his first word was, "Hath
Thomas Leicester been here?"
You know how servants stick together against their master! The girls
looked him in the face, like candid doves, and told him Leicester had
not been that way for six months or more.
"Why, I have tracked him to within two miles," said Griffith,
doubtfully.
"Then he is sure to come here," said Jane, adroitly. "He wouldn't ever
think to go by us."
"The moment he enters the house, you let me know. He is a
mischief-making loon."
He then asked for a horn of ale; and, as he finished it, Ryder came in,
and he turned to her, and asked her after her mistress.
"She was well, just now," said Ryder; "but she has been took with a
spasm; and it would be well, sir, if you could dress, and entertain the
company in her place awhile. For I must tell you, your being so long
away hath set their tongues going, and almost broken my lady's heart."
Griffith sighed, and said he could not help it, and now he was here, he
would do all in his power to please her. "I'll go to her at once," said
he.
"No, sir!" said Ryder, firmly. "Come with me. I want to speak to you."
She took him to his bachelor's room, and stayed a few minutes to talk to
him.
"Master," said she, solemnly, "things are very serious here. Why did you
stay so long away? Our dame says some woman is at the bottom of it, and
she'll put a knife into you if you come a-nigh her."
This threat did not appall Griffith, as Ryder expected. Indeed, he
seemed rather flattered.
"Poor Kate!" said he; "she is just the woman to do it. But I am afraid
she does not love me enough for that. But indeed how should she?"
"Well, sir," replied Ryder, "oblige me by keeping clear of her for a
little while. I have got orders to make your bed here. Now, dress, like
a good soul, and then go down and show respect to the company that is in
your house; for they know you are here."
"Why, that is the least I can do," said Griffith. "Put you out what I am
to wear, and then run and say I'll be with them anon."
Griffith walked into the dining-room, and, somewhat to his surprise,
after what Ryder had said, found Mrs. Gaunt seated at the head of her
own table, and presiding like a radiant queen over a brilliant assembly.
He walked in, and made a low bow to his guests first: then he approached
to greet his wife more freely; but she drew back decidedly, and made him
a courtesy, the dignity and distance of which struck the whole company.
Sir George Neville, who was at the bottom of the table, proposed, with
his usual courtesy, to resign his place to Griffith. But Mrs. Gaunt
forbade the arrangement.
"No, Sir George," said she; "this is but an occasional visitor; you are
my constant friend."
If this had been said pleasantly, well and good; but the guests looked
in vain into their hostess's face for the smile that ought to have
accompanied so strange a speech and disarmed it.
"Rarities are the more welcome," said a lady, coming to the rescue; and
edged aside to make room for him.
"Madam," said Griffith, "I am in your debt for that explanation; but I
hope you will be no rarity here, for all that."
Supper proceeded; but the mirth languished. Somehow or other, the chill
fact that there was a grave quarrel between two at the table, and those
two man and wife, insinuated itself into the spirits of the guests.
There began to be lulls,--fatal lulls. And in one of these, some unlucky
voice was heard to murmur, "Such a meeting of man and wife I never
saw."
The hearers felt miserable at this personality, that fell upon the ear
of silence like a thunderbolt.
Griffith was ill-advised enough to notice the remark, though clearly not
intended for his ears. For one thing, his jealousy had actually revived
at the cool preference Kate had shown his old rival, Neville.
"Oh!" said he, bitterly, "a man is not always his wife's favorite."
"He does not always deserve to be," said Mrs. Gaunt, sternly.
When matters had gone that length, one idea seemed to occur pretty
simultaneously to all the well-bred guests; and that idea was, _Sauve
qui peut_.
Mrs. Gaunt took leave of them, one by one, and husband and wife were
left alone.
Mrs. Gaunt by this time was alarmed at the violence of her own passions,
and wished to avoid Griffith for that night at all events. So she cast
one terribly stern look upon him, and was about to retire in grim
silence. But he, indignant at the public affront she had put on him, and
not aware of the true cause, unfortunately detained her. He said,
sulkily, "What sort of a reception was that you gave me?"
This was too much. She turned on him furiously. "Too good for thee, thou
heartless creature! Thomas Leicester is here, and I know thee for a
villain."
"You know nothing," cried Griffith. "Would you believe that
mischief-making knave? What has he told you?"
"Go back to _her_!" cried Mrs. Gaunt furiously. "Me you can deceive and
pillage no more. So, this was your jealousy! False and forsworn
yourself, you dared to suspect and insult me. Ah! and you think I am the
woman to endure this? I'll have your life for it! I'll have your life."
Griffith endeavored to soften her,--protested that, notwithstanding
appearances, he had never loved but her.
"I'll soon be rid of you, and your love," said the raging woman. "The
constables shall come for you to-morrow. You have seen how I can love,
you shall know how I can hate."
She then, in her fury, poured out a torrent of reproaches and threats
that made his blood run cold. He could not answer her: he _had_
suspected her wrongfully, and been false to her himself. He _had_ abused
her generosity, and taken her money for Mercy Vint.
After one or two vain efforts to check the torrent, he sank into a
chair, and hid his face in his hands.
But this did not disarm her, at the time. Her raging voice and raging
words were heard by the very servants, long after he had ceased to
defend himself.
At last she came out, pale with fury, and, finding Ryder near the door,
shrieked out, "Take that reptile to his den, if he is mean enough to lie
in this house,"--then, lowering her voice, "and bring Thomas Leicester
to me."
Ryder went to Leicester, and told him. But he objected to come. "You
have betrayed me," said he. "Curse my weak heart and my loose tongue. I
have done the poor Squire an ill turn. I can never look him in the face
again. But 'tis all thy fault, double-face. I hate the sight of thee."
At this Ryder shed some crocodile tears; and very soon, by her
blandishments, obtained forgiveness.
And Leicester, since the mischief was done, was persuaded to see the
dame, who was his recent benefactor, you know. He bargained, however,
that the Squire should be got to bed first; for he had a great dread of
meeting him. "He'll break every bone in my skin," said Tom; "or else I
shall do _him_ a mischief in my defence."
Ryder herself saw the wisdom of this. She bade him stay quiet, and she
went to look after Griffith.
She found him in the drawing-room, with his head on the table, in deep
dejection.
She assumed authority, and said he must go to bed.
He rose humbly, and followed her like a submissive dog.
She took him to his room. There was no fire.
"That is where you are to sleep," said she, spitefully.
"It is better than I deserve," said he, humbly.
The absurd rule about not hitting a man when he is down has never
obtained a place in the great female soul; so Ryder lashed him without
mercy.
"Well, sir," said she, "methinks you have gained little by breaking
faith with me. Y' had better have set up your inn with me, than gone and
sinned against the law."
"Much better: would to Heaven I had!"
"What d' ye mean to do now? You know the saying. Between two stools--"
"Child," said Griffith, faintly, "methinks I shall trouble neither long.
I am not so ill a man as I seem; but who will believe that? I shall not
live long. And I shall leave an ill name behind me. _She_ told me so
just now. And oh! her eye was so cruel; I saw my death in it."
"Come, come," said Ryder, relenting a little; "you mustn't believe every
word an angry woman says. There, take my advice; go to bed; and in the
morning don't speak to her. Keep out of her way a day or two."
And with this piece of friendly advice she left him; and waited about
till she thought he was in bed and asleep.
Then she brought Thomas Leicester up to her mistress.
But Griffith was not in bed; and he heard Leicester's heavy tread cross
the landing. He waited and waited behind his door for more than half an
hour, and then he heard the same heavy tread go away again.
By this time nearly all the inmates of the house were asleep.
About twenty-five minutes after Leicester left Mrs. Gaunt, Caroline
Ryder stole quietly up stairs from the kitchen, and sat down to think it
all over.
She then proceeded to undress; but had only taken off her gown, when she
started and listened; for a cry of distress reached her from outside the
house.
She darted to the window and threw it open.
Then she heard a cry more distinct, "Help! help!"
It was a clear starlight night, but no moon.
The mere shone before her, and the cries were on the bank.
Now came something more alarming still. A flash,--a pistol shot,--and an
agonized voice cried loudly, "Murder! Help! Murder!"
That voice she knew directly. It was Griffith Gaunt's.