On the way homeward she spoke never a word. Vanringham had made a hasty
flitting when my Lord's people arrived, so that we saw nothing of him. But
when we had come safely to Lady Allonby's villa, Dorothy began to laugh.
"Captain Audaine," says she, in a wearied and scornful voice, "I know that
the hour is very late, yet there are certain matters to be settled between
as which will, I think, scarcely admit of delay. I pray you, then, grant me
ten minutes' conversation."
She had known me all along, you see. Trust the dullest woman to play
Oedipus when love sets the riddle. So there was nothing to do save clap my
mask into my pocket and follow her, sheepishly enough, toward one of the
salons, where at Dorothy's solicitation a gaping footman made a light for
us.
She left me there to kick my heels through a solitude of some moments'
extent. But in a while my dear mistress came into the room, with her arms
full of trinkets and knick-knacks, which she flung upon a table.
"Here's your ring, Captain Audaine," says she, and drew it from her finger.
"I did not wear it long, did I? And here's the miniature you gave me, too.
I used to kiss it every night, you know. And here's a flower you dropped at
Lady Pevensey's. I picked it up--oh, very secretly!--because you had worn
it, you understand. And here's--"
But at this point she fairly broke down; and she cast her round white arms
about the heap of trinkets, and strained them close to her, and bowed her
imperious golden head above them in anguish.
"Oh, how I loved you--how I loved you!" she sobbed. "And all the while you
were only a common thief!"
"Dorothy--!" I pleaded.
"You shame me--you shame me past utterance!" she cried, in a storm of
mingled tears and laughter. "Here's this bold Captain Audaine, who comes to
Tunbridge from nobody knows where, and wins a maid's love, and proves in
the end a beggarly house-breaker! Mr. Garrick might make a mirthful comedy
of this, might he not?" Then she rose to her feet very stiffly. "Take your
gifts, Mr. Thief," says she, pointing,--"take them. And for God's sake let
me not see you again!"
So I was forced to make a clean breast of it.
"Dorothy," said I, "ken ye the rhyme to porringer?" But she only stared at
me through unshed tears.
Presently, though, I hummed over the old song:
"Ken ye the rhyme to porringer?
Ken ye the rhyme to porringer?
King James the Seventh had ae daughter,
And he gave her to an Oranger.
"And the Oranger filched his crown," said I, "and drove King James--God
bless him!--out of his kingdom. This was a while and a half ago, my dear;
but Dutch William left the stolen crown to Anne, and Anne, in turn, left it
to German George. So that now the Elector of Hanover reigns at St. James's,
while the true King's son must skulk in France, with never a roof to
shelter him. And there are certain gentlemen, Dorothy, who do not consider
that this is right."
"You are a Jacobite?" said she. "Well! and what have your politics to do
with the matter?"
"Simply that Lord Humphrey is not of my way of thinking, my dearest dear.
Lord Humphrey--pah!--this Degge is Ormskirk's spy, I tell you! He followed
Vanringham to Tunbridge on account of our business. And to-day, when
Vanringham set out for Avignon, he was stopped a mile from the Wells by
some six of Lord Humphrey's fellows, disguised as highwaymen, and all his
papers were stolen. Oho, but Lord Humphrey is a thrifty fellow: so when
Ormskirk puts six bandits at his disposal he employs them in double infamy,
to steal you as well as Vanringham's despatches. To-morrow they would have
been in Ormskirk's hands. And then--" I paused to allow myself a whistle.
She came a little toward me, in the prettiest possible glow of
bewilderment, "I do not understand," she murmured. "Oh, Frank, Frank, for
the love of God, beware of trusting Vanringham in anything! And you are not
a thief, after all? Are you really not named Thomasson?"
"I am most assuredly not Frederick Thomasson," said I, "nor do I know if
any such person exists, for I never heard the name before to-night. Yet, in
spite of this, I am an unmitigated thief. Why, d'ye not understand? What
Vanringham carried was a petition from some two hundred Scotch and English
gentlemen that our gracious Prince Charlie be pleased to come over and
take back his own from the Elector. 'Twas rebellion, flat rebellion, and
the very highest treason! Had Ormskirk seen the paper, within a month our
heads had all been blackening over Temple Bar. So I stole it,--I, Francis
Audaine, stole it in the King's cause, God bless him! 'Twas burglary, no
less, but it saved two hundred lives, my own included; and I look to be a
deal older than I am before I regret the deed with any sincerity."
Afterward I showed her the papers, and then burned them one by one over a
candle. She said nothing. So by and by I turned toward her with a little
bow.
"Madam," said I, "you have forced my secret from me. I know that your
family is staunch on the Whig side; and yet, ere the thief goes, may he not
trust you will ne'er betray him?"
And now she came to me, all penitence and dimples.
"But it was you who said you were a thief," my dear mistress pointed out.
"O Lord, madam!" said I, "'twas very necessary that Degge should think me
so. A house-breaker they would have only hanged, but a Jacobite they would
have hanged and quartered afterward."
"Ah, Frank, do not speak of such fearful matters, but forgive me
instantly!" she wailed.
And I was about to do so in what I considered the most agreeable and
appropriate manner when the madcap broke away from me, and sprang upon a
footstool and waved her fan defiantly.
"Down with the Elector!" she cried, in her high, sweet voice. "Long live
King James!"
And then, with a most lovely wildness of mien, she began to sing:
"Ken ye the rhyme to porringer?
Ken ye the rhyme to porringer?
King James the Seventh had ae daughter--"
until I interrupted her. For, "Extraordinary creature!" I pleaded, "you
will rouse the house."
"I don't care! I intend to be a Jacobite if you are one!"
"Eh, well," said I, "Frank Audaine is not the man to coerce his wife in a
political matter. Nevertheless, I know of a certain Jacobite who is not
unlikely to have a bad time of it if by any chance Lord Humphrey recognized
him to-night. Nay, Miss, you may live to be a widow yet."
"But he didn't recognize you. And if he did"--she snapped her
fingers,--"why, we'll fight him again, you and I. Won't we, my dear? For
he stole our secret, you know. And he stole me, too. Very pretty behavior,
wasn't it?" And here Miss, Allonby stamped the tiniest, the most
infinitesimal of red-heeled slippers.
"The rogue he didna keep me lang,
To budge we made him fain again--
"that's you, Frank, and your great, long sword. And now:
"We'll hang him high, upon a tree,
And King Frank shall hae his ain again!"
Afterward my adored Dorothy jumped from the footstool, and came toward me,
lifting up the crimson trifle that she calls her mouth, "So take your own,
my king," she breathed, with a wonderful gesture of surrender.
And a gentleman could do no less.
V