POIKILUS never left Taddington--only the “Swan.” More than once he was
within sight of Ashmead unobserved. Once, indeed, that gentleman, who had
a great respect for dignitaries, saluted him; for at that moment Poikilus
happened to be a sleek dignitary of the Church of England. Poikilus, when
quite himself, wore a mustache, and was sallow, and lean as a weasel; but
he shaved and stuffed and colored for the dean. Shovel-hat, portly walk,
and green spectacles did the rest. Grandfather Whitehead saluted. His
reverence chuckled.
Poikilus kept Severne posted by letter and wire as to many things that
happened outside Vizard Court; but he could not divine the storm that was
brewing inside Ina Klosking's room. Yet Severne defended himself exactly
as he would have done had he known all. He and Zoe spent Elysian hours,
meeting twice a day in the shrubbery, and making love as if they were the
only two creatures in the world; but it was blind Elysium only to one of
them--Severne was uneasy and alarmed the whole time. His sagacity showed
him it could not last, and there was always a creeping terror on him.
Would not Uxmoor cause inquiries? Would he not be sure to tell Vizard?
Would not Vizard come there to look after Zoe, or order her back to
Vizard Court? Would not the Klosking get well, and interfere once more?
He passed the time between heaven and hell; whenever he was not under the
immediate spell of Zoe's presence, a sort of vague terror was always on
him. He looked all round him, wherever he went.
This terror, and his passion, which was now as violent as it was wicked,
soon drove him to conceive desperate measures. But, by masterly
self-government, he kept them two days to his own bosom. He felt it was
too soon to raise a fresh and painful discussion with Zoe. He must let
her drink unmixed delight, and get a taste for it; and then show her on
what conditions alone it could be had forever.
It was on the third day after their reconciliation she found him seated
on a bench in the shrubbery, lost in thought, and looking very dejected.
She was close to him before he noticed; then he sprung up, stared at her,
and began to kiss her hands violently, and even her very dress.
“It is you,” said he, “once more.”
“Yes, dear,” said Zoe, tenderly; “did you think I would not come?”
“I did not know whether you could come. I feel that my happiness cannot
last long. And, Zoe dear, I have had a dream. I dreamed we were taken
prisoners, and carried to Vizard Court, and on the steps stood Vizard and
Mademoiselle Klosking arm-in-arm; I believe they were man and wife. And
you were taken out and led, weeping, into the house, and I was left there
raging with agony. And then that lady put out her finger in a commanding
way, and I was whirled away into utter darkness, and I heard you moan,
and I fought, and dashed my head against the carriage, and I felt my
heart burst, and my whole body filled with some cold liquid, and I went
to sleep, and I heard a voice say, 'It is all over; his trouble is
ended.' I was dead.”
This narrative, and his deep dejection, set Zoe's tears flowing. “Poor
Edward!” she sighed. “I would not survive you. But cheer up, dear; it was
only a dream. We are not slaves. I am not dependent on any one. How can
we be parted?”
“We shall, unless we use our opportunity, and make it impossible to part
us. Zoe, do not slight my alarm and my misgivings; such warnings are
prophetic. For Heaven's sake, make one sacrifice more, and let us place
our happiness beyond the reach of man!”
“Only tell me how.”
“There is but one way--marriage.”
Zoe blushed high, and panted a little, but said nothing.
“Ah!” said he, piteously, “I ask too much.”
“How can you say that?” said Zoe. “Of course I shall marry you, dearest.
What! do you think I could do what I _have_ done for anybody but my
husband that is to be?”
“I was mad to think otherwise,” said he, “but I am in low spirits, and
full of misgivings. Oh, the comfort, the bliss, the peace of mind, the
joy, if you would see our hazardous condition, and make all safe by
marrying me to-morrow.”
“To-morrow! Why, Edward, are you mad? How can we be married, so long as
my brother is so prejudiced against you?”
“If we wait his consent, we are parted forever. He would forgive us after
it--that is certain. But he would never consent. He is too much under the
influence of his--of Mademoiselle Klosking.”
“Indeed, I cannot hope he will consent beforehand,” sighed Zoe; “but I
have not the courage to defy him; and if I had, we could not marry all in
a moment, like that. We should have to be cried in church.”
“That is quite gone out among ladies and gentlemen.”
“Not in our family. Besides, even a special license takes time, I
suppose. Oh no, I could not be married in a clandestine, discreditable
way. I am a Vizard--please remember that. Would you degrade the woman you
honor with your choice?”
And her red cheeks and flashing eyes warned him to desist.
“God forbid!” said he. “If that is the alternative, I consent to lose
her--and lose her I shall.”
He then affected to dismiss the subject, and said, “Let me enjoy the
hours that are left me. Much misery or much bliss can be condensed in a
few days. I will enjoy the blessed time, and we will wait for the chapter
of accidents that is sure to part us.” Then he acted reckless happiness,
and broke down at last.
She cried, but showed no sign of yielding. Her pride and self-respect
were roused and on their defense.
The next day he came to her quietly sad. He seemed languid and listless,
and to care for nothing. He was artful enough to tell her, on the
information of Poikilus, that Vizard had hired the cathedral choir three
times a week to sing to his inamorata; and that he had driven her about
Taddington, dressed like a duchess, in a whole suit of sables.
At that word the girl turned pale.
He observed, and continued: “And it seems these sables are known
throughout the county. There were several carriages in the town, and my
informant heard a lady say they were Mrs. Vizard's sables, worth five
hundred guineas--a Russian princess gave them her.”
“It is quite true,” said Zoe. “His mother's sables! Is it possible!”
“They all say he is caught at last, and this is to be the next Mrs.
Vizard.”
“They may well say so, if he parades her in his mother's sables,” said
Zoe, and could not conceal her jealousy and her indignation. “I never
dared so much as ask his permission to wear them,” said she.
“And if you had, he would have told you the relics of a saint were not to
be played with.”
“That is just what he would have said, I do believe.” The female heart
was stung.
“Ah, well,” said Severne, “I am sure I should not grudge him his
happiness, if you would see things as he does, and be as brave as he is.”
“Thank you,” said Zoe. “Women cannot defy the world as men do.” Then,
passionately, “Why do you torment me so? why do you urge me so? a poor
girl, all alone, and far from advice. What on earth would you have me
do?”
“Secure us against another separation, unite us in bliss forever.”
“And so I would if I could; you know I would. But it is impossible.”
“No, Zoe; it is easy. There are two ways: we can reach Scotland in eight
hours; and there, by a simple writing and declaration before witnesses,
we are man and wife.”
“A Gretna Green marriage?”
“It is just as much a legal marriage as if a bishop married us at St.
Paul's. However, we could follow it up immediately by marriage in a
church, either in Scotland or the North of England But there is another
way: we can be married at Bagley, any day, before the registrar.”
“Is that a marriage--a real marriage?”
“As real, as legal, as binding as a wedding in St. Paul's.”
“Nobody in this county has ever been married so. I should blush to be
seen about after it.”
“Our first happy year would not be passed in this country. We should go
abroad for six months.”
“Ay, fly from shame.”
“On our return we should be received with open arms by my own people in
Huntingdonshire, until your people came round, as they always do.”
He then showed her a letter, in which his pearl of a cousin said they
would receive his wife with open arms, and make her as happy as they
could. Uncle Tom was coming home from India, with two hundred thousand
pounds; he was a confirmed old bachelor, and Edward his favorite, etc.
Zoe faltered a little: so then he pressed her hard with love, and
entreaties, and promises, and even hysterical tears; then she began to
cry--a sure sign of yielding. “Give me time,” she said--“give me time.”
He groaned, and said there was no time to lose. Otherwise he never would
have urged her so.
For all that, she could not be drawn to a decision. She must think over
such a step. Next morning, at the usual time, he came to know his fate.
But she did not appear. He waited an hour for her. She did not come. He
began to rage and storm, and curse his folly for driving her so hard.
At last she came, and found him pale with anxiety, and looking utterly
miserable. She told him she had passed a sleepless night, and her head
had ached so in the morning she could not move.
“My poor darling!” said he; “and I am the cause. Say no more about it,
dear one. I see you do not love me as I love you, and I forgive you.”
She smiled sadly at that, for she was surer of her own love than his.
Zoe had passed a night of torment and vacillation; and but for her
brother having paraded Mademoiselle Klosking in his mother's sables, she
would, I think, have held out. But this turned her a little against her
brother; and, as he was the main obstacle to her union with Severne, love
and pity conquered. Yet still Honor and Pride had their say. “Edward,”
said she, “I love you with all my heart, and share your fears that
accident may separate us. I will let you decide for both of us. But,
before you decide, be warned of one thing. I am a girl no longer, but a
woman who has been distracted with many passions. If any slur rests on my
fair name, deeply as I love you now, I shall abhor you then.”
He turned pale, for her eye flashed dismay into his craven soul.
He said nothing; and she continued: “If you insist on this hasty,
half-clandestine marriage, then I consent to this--I will go with you
before the registrar, and I shall come back here directly. Next morning
early we will start for Scotland, and be married that other way before
witnesses. Then your fears will be at an end, for you believe in these
marriages; only as I do not--for I look on these _legal_ marriages merely
as solemn betrothals--I shall be Miss Zoe Vizard, and expect you to treat
me so, until I have been married in a church, like a lady.”
“Of course you shall,” said he; and overwhelmed her with expressions of
gratitude, respect, and affection.
This soothed her troubled mind, and she let him take her hand and pour
his honeyed flatteries into her ear, as he walked her slowly up and down.
She could hardly tear herself away from the soft pressure of his hand and
the fascination of his tongue, and she left him, more madly in love with
him than ever, and ready to face anything but dishonor for him. She was
to come out at twelve o'clock, and walk into Bagley with him to betroth
herself to him, as she chose to consider it, before the stipendiary
magistrate, who married couples in that way. Of the two marriages she had
consented to, merely as preliminaries to a real marriage, Zoe despised
this the most; for the Scotch marriage was, at all events, ancient, and
respectable lovers had been driven to it again and again.
She was behind her time, and Severne thought her courage had failed her,
after all. But no: at half-past twelve she came out, and walked briskly
toward Bagley.
He was behind her, and followed her. She took his arm nervously. “Let me
feel you all the way,” she said, “to give me courage.”
So they walked arm-in-arm; and, as they went, his courage secretly
wavered, her's rose at every step.
About half a mile from the town they met a carriage and pair.
At sight of them a gentleman on the box tapped at the glass window, and
said, hurriedly, “Here they are _together.”_
Mademoiselle Klosking said, “Stop the carriage”: then, pausing a little,
“Mr. Vizard--on your word of honor, no violence.”
The carriage was drawn up, Ashmead opened the door in a trice, and La
Klosking, followed by Vizard, stepped out, and stood like a statue before
Edward Severne and Zoe Vizard.
Severne dropped her arm directly, and was panic-stricken.
Zoe uttered a little scream at the sight of Vizard; but the next moment
took fire at her rival's audacity, and stepped boldly before her lover,
with flashing eyes and expanded nostrils that literally breathed
defiance.