GREEK MEETS GREEK.
"'I scorn,' quoth she, 'thou coxcomb silly,
Quarter or counsel from a foe.
If thou canst force me to it, do,'"
--HUDIBRAS.
"I had rather chop this hand off at a blow,
And with the other fling it in thy face,
Than stoop to thee."
--SHAKSPEARE.
Petronilla rode gayly along to the little bustling, half-village,
half-city, Judestown, thinking over her late surprising proposal, and
scarcely knowing whether to laugh at or pity poor Mr. Toosypegs. As she
reached the town these thoughts were dispelled by the busy scenes
around, and Pet found herself fully occupied in nodding to her various
friends and acquaintances as she passed.
Pet's destination was the post-office, a large building which served as
a store, hotel, and post, all in one. As she drew rein at the door, the
mail-coach drew up, and Pet lingered where she was a moment, in order to
avoid the crowd.
The passengers crowded in, and as the coach-door opened, a young
gentleman sprung out and assisted a lady, closely veiled, to alight.
Neither of them noticed Pet; so they did not observe her quick start,
her sudden flush, and the vivid lighting up of her beautiful eyes.
These outward and very unwonted signs of emotion on Pet's part passed
away as quickly as they came, and in one minute more she was as cool,
saucy and composed as ever.
"Is there any one here who will drive us to Old Barrens Cottage?" said
the young gentleman, glancing at the landlord.
"Yes, sir; in ten minutes, sir; just step in, sir; my boy's gone off in
a gig with a gent, but he'll be back soon. Walk right in this way, sir,"
replied the obsequious landlord, with a profusion of bows to the
well-dressed and distinguished-looking stranger before him.
"I would rather not wait," said the gentleman. "Can you not let me have
some other conveyance, and I will drive over myself?"
"Very sorry, sir, but they're all engaged. Just step in, sir, you and
your good lady, sir."
Pet fancied she heard a low, sweet laugh from under the thick, brown
veil, and the gentleman smiled as he followed the bustling host into the
well-sanded parlor.
In one moment Pet was off her horse, and consigning him to the care of
the hostler, darted in by a side-door and rung a peal that presently
brought the hostess, a pleasant-faced, fat, little woman, in a
tremendous flutter, into the room.
"Laws! Miss Petronilla, is it you? Why, you haven't been to see me this
long time. How do you do?"
"I'm very well, thank you, Mrs. Gudge; but see here--did you notice that
gentleman and lady who have just gone into the parlor?"
"That tall, handsome young man, with all them there mustaches?--yes, I
seen him, Miss Pet."
"Well, do you know who he is?"
"No; though it does kinder seem to me as if I'd seen him somewhere
before. The lady, his wife, I take it, kept her veil down, and I
couldn't see her face. No; I don't know 'em, Miss Pet."
"Well, that don't matter; I _do_. And now, Mrs. Gudge, I want you to
help me in a splendid piece of--of--"
"Mischief, Miss Pet," said the woman, slyly.
"No, not exactly--just fun. I want you to bring a suit of your son Bob's
clothes up here. I'm going to dress myself in them, and when he comes
with the gig let me drive them over. My riding-habit and pony can remain
here till I send for them."
"Now, Miss Pet--"
"Now, Mrs. Gudge, don't bother me! Go, like a dear old soul. I'll give
you a kiss if you do."
"But the judge--"
"Oh, the judge won't know anything about it unless you tell him. There,
be off! I want to be dressed before Bob comes. If you don't hurry I'll
lose the most splendid joke ever was. Hurry now! Put Mr. Gudge up to it,
so the cat won't get out of the bag."
With a deprecating shake of her head and upturning of her eyes, the
little hostess bustled out, inwardly wondering what "Miss Pet would do
next."
Pet, in the meantime, with her wicked black eyes scintillating with the
prospect of coming fun, was rapidly divesting herself of her hat and
riding-habit. And then little Mrs. Gudge made her appearance with her
son and heir's "Sunday-go-to-meetin's" and stayed to assist the fairy in
her frolic, and find out who the handsome owner of the "mustarchers"
was. But Pet was as close as a clam, and only laughed at the landlady's
"pumping," while she dived desperately into Bob's pants and coat,
which--except being narrow where Pet thought they ought to be wide, and
wide where they ought to be narrow, fitted her very well. Then she
combed her short, dancing, black curls to one side, over her round,
boyish forehead, and setting upon them a jaunty Scotch cap, stood there,
bright, saucy, and smiling, as handsome and dashing a little fellow as
you could see in a long summer-day.
"Well, laws! you _do_ make a pretty boy and no mistake, Miss Pet," said
the woman, admiringly; "them handsome eyes of yours and shaking, shining
curls is jest the thing! But your hands--they're a heap too small and
deliky-looking for a boy's."
"Oh! well, I'll rub some mud on them when I get out. They're not the
whitest in the world anyway; and besides, they won't look very closely
at a little cab-boy's hands."
"Now, if you want to be like a boy, you must take long steps, and stick
your hands in your pockets, and swear. Can you swear, Miss Pet?" said
the woman, seriously.
"Well, I never tried," said Pet, laughing; "and as I don't know any
oaths off by heart, I guess I won't mind, for fear the effect would be a
failure."
"It's a pity you don't," said Mrs. Gudge, thoughtfully; "all boys allers
swears at the horses. You must look sassy--but that comes natural enough
to you; and you had better smoke a pipe or chew some tobacco, on the
road--which will you do, Miss Pet?"
"Well, really, Mrs. Gudge, I'd rather not do either, if it's all the
same to you," said Pet; "but you mus'n't keep calling me 'Miss Pet,' you
know; my name's Bob, now, Bob Gudge."
"So it is. Laws! if it ain't funny; but I'm afraid they'll find you out
if you don't do none of those things. Can you whistle, Miss--Bob, I
mean?"
For reply, Pet puckered up her rosy mouth, and whistled "Hail Columbia,"
in a way that made little Mrs. Gudge's eyes snap with delight.
"Here comes Bob!" she cried, as a gig came rattling into the yard. "You
wait here a minute and I'll fix things all right."
Out flew Mrs. Gudge, and called off Bob to some secret corner, and then
she showed her head in at the door and called:
"Come, now, Miss--Bob, and drive round to the front door while I tell
the lady and gentleman all's right now."
Pet, imitating Bob's shuffling swagger, went out to the yard, sprung up
on the front seat, took the reins, and, in masterly style, turned the
horses, and drove around to the front door.
Scarcely had she got there and struck up "Hail Columbia" in her
shrillest key, than the dark, handsome gentleman with the "mustarchers"
came out with the lady, who was still veiled, followed by the host and
hostess, on whose faces rested a broad grin. Pet, with her cap pulled
over her eyes, to shade them from the hot sun, and also to subdue their
dark, bright splendor a little, sat whistling away, looking as cool as a
cucumber, if not several degrees cooler.
The young gentleman handed the lady in, and she took her place on the
back seat.
"Now, Minnie, I'm going to sit here with the driver and have a chat with
him", said the young man; "these cunning little vagrants know
everything."
The shrill whistle rose an octave higher.
"Very well," said the young lady, in low, laughing tones; "anything to
put an end to that piercing whistle. I suppose he cannot talk to you and
whistle together?"
"Can't I, though?" thought the small urchin, who held the reins. "We'll
see that, Miss Erminie Germaine," and higher and higher still rose the
sharp, shrill notes.
"Come, my lad, start," cried the gentleman, springing in, "and if it's
not too much trouble, might I request you to stop whistling? It may be,
and no doubt is, owing to our bad taste, but we cannot appreciate it as
it deserves."
"Don't see no harm in whistling; nobody never objects to it," said Pet,
imitating to perfection the gruff, surly tones of Master Bob. "I'm fond
of music myself, if you ain't, and so is the hoss, who would not go a
step if I didn't whistle; so I'll just keep on if it's all the same to
you."
And another stave of "Hail Columbia" pierced the air.
"How long does it take you to drive to the Barrens?"
"Well, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter; and then again not so
long," said the driver, touching the horse daintily with his whip.
"Quite enlightened, thank you! Do you know the family at old Barrens
cottage?"
"There ain't no family there; there's only the old woman what can't walk
or nothin'; and a nigger. Them two don't make one whole member of
society, let alone a family. Was you acquainted with them, square?"
"Slightly so," said the gentleman, smiling.
"Well, maybe you knew that there cove that went away--young Mr. Ray?"
"I believe I had that honor," replied the young man, with the smile
still on his handsome face.
"Honor! humph! I reckon you're the only one ever thought it an honor to
know him," said the lad, grimly. "He always was a vagabones, and ended
as all vagabones must, at last."
For one moment the young gentleman glanced at the driver, evidently
hesitating whether to pitch him then and there out of the gig or not;
but seeing only a little boy with an exceedingly muddy face, he thought
better of it, and said:
"Well, this is really pleasant to listen to! And how did this vagabones,
as you call him, end?"
"Why, he was sent away from home, when they couldn't stand him any
longer; and the last we heard of him was that he was in State Prison for
life."
A low peal of laughter from the young lady followed this, in which,
after a prolonged stare of astonishment, the gentleman was obliged to
join.
"Well, for cool, innate impudence, and straight-forward bluntness, I'll
back you against the world, my good youth," said the young man, while
the little driver sat looking as sober as a judge.
"And the young lady who lived there, what became of her?"
"There wasn't never no young lady," said the lad; "there was a little
gal with yaller hair, but she went off, too; and I expect, ran away with
some one-eyed fiddler or other. They was English, and no better couldn't
have been expected," said the boy, in strong accents of contempt.
Another low laugh from the young lady and a prolonged whistle from the
gentleman followed this.
"Well, I am sorry my friends have turned out so badly. How about the
others, now; Judge Lawless and his family, for instance; Admiral
Havenful, Mr. and Miss Toosypegs, and the rest?"
"They're all hanging together! Mr. Toosypegs is going to get married and
take in sewing for a living; and Miss Priscilla goes round making
vinegar."
"Making what?"
"Vinegar," said the lad, gravely. "The grocers gets her to look into
barrels of water, when they turns into vinegar 'mediately."
"I shouldn't wonder," said the gentleman, laughing; "but the
others--Judge Lawless, Miss Lawless, what of her?"
"Oh, she's all right. Don't expect she'll be Miss Lawless, though, much
longer," said the boy.
"No? why? how? what do you mean?" said the young gentleman, starting so
suddenly that the boy looked up, apparently quite terrified by this
unexpected outburst.
"See here, square, you'll skeer the hoss if you keep on like this. If
you're subjick to 'tacks of this kind you ought for to have told me
before we started, and not 'larm the hoss," said the boy, sharply.
"Tell me what you mean by that? Speak!" said the young man, vehemently.
"By what? skeering the hoss?" said the lad.
"No, about Miss Lawless," was the impetuous rejoinder.
"Oh! Well, I have hearn tell she was goin' to be married. Likely as not
she is too; got lots of beaux."
The young gentleman's face flushed for a moment, and then grew set and
stern.
"Did you hear who she was to be married to?" said the young lady,
leaning over.
"No, marm; nobody never can tell what she'll do; likely as not she'll
get married to the one nobody expects her to marry. She always was the
contrariest young woman always that ever was," said the boy, casting a
quick, bright, searching glance from under his long eyelashes, at the
handsome face of the gentleman. And it was a handsome face, the very
handsomest the saucy little driver had ever seen; and it might have been
its close proximity to its owner that sent such quick thrills to the
heart of the quondam boy, and set it beating so unnecessarily fast under
the jaunty black coat. The dark, clear complexion; the straight, classic
features; the thick, jetty, clustering hair; the high, princely brow;
the bold, flashing, falcon, black eyes; the thin, curving nostril, that
showed his high blood; the proud, haughty mouth, shaded by a thick,
black mustache; the tall, slight, elegant form; the high, kingly
movements--these made up the outward attractions of him by whose side
Pet sat. Of course, every reader above the artless age of five knows as
well as I do who it is, so there is not the slightest necessity for
announcing his name as Raymond Germaine.
There was a long silence after this. The young gentleman, with a cold,
almost sarcastic look, watched the objects as they passed, and the
little boy drove on, whistling as if his life depended on it.
Then the young lady leaned over and began a conversation in a low voice
with her companion, to which he replied in the same tone. The lady had
thrown back her veil, disclosing a face of such rare loveliness that it
seemed a downright shame, not to say sin, to hide it behind that odious
brown covering. The driver turned round to catch a better view of her
face, and the young lady met the full splendor of those dazzling dark
orbs. The boy instantly turned, and began whistling louder than ever.
"What a handsome boy!" said the young girl, in a low tone, yet loud
enough for the "boy" in question to hear. "What splendid eyes! I thought
there could be but one such pair of eyes in the world, and those--"
Her companion made a slight gesture that arrested the name she would
have uttered; and glancing at the boy, said, rather coldly:
"Yes; he is handsome, if his face was washed."
"Now, Ray," said the young lady, laughing "that is altogether too bad.
Those radiant eyes are destined to break many a heart yet."
"That they are!" mentally exclaimed the lad.
"How fortunate for some of your admirers, Ermie, he is not a few years
older," said Ray (we may as well call him so at once, and have done with
it). "Those dark, bright, handsome eyes wouldn't have left you the
faintest trace of a heart; and then what would poor Ranty have done?"
"Pshaw, Ray," said Erminie, with a most becoming blush, "what nonsense!
Oh, look! we are almost home. There is Dismal Hollow, and
there--there--I declare! that's Mr. Toosypegs himself, riding out of the
pine woods. Why, he hasn't changed the least in the world since I saw
him last."
The little driver gave his cap a pull further over his face as Ray
shouted to Mr. Toosypegs.
The next moment, that disconsolate wooer was by the side of the gig,
shaking hands with Ray and Erminie, and asking a dozen questions in a
breath.
"How did you come? When did you come? How did you meet?" breathlessly
demanded the astonished and delighted Mr. Toosypegs.
"I called for Erminie at her convent. She is not going back any more; my
visit will probably be a short one. I hope Miss Toosypegs and all our
friends are well?"
"Yes; all well. I am very much obliged to you. Did you pass through
Judestown?"
"Of course. How else could we get here?"
"And didn't you meet Miss Pet?"
"Miss Lawless? No. Was she at Judestown?" said Erminie, eagerly; while
Ray found something so attractive among the trees that he could not
possibly remove his eyes from it. "Oh, I should have liked to have seen
her so much!"
"Yes; she went to Judestown this morning, and has not got back. My
goodness! it is the greatest wonder you didn't see her. What a pity she
didn't know you've come! she would be here in a flash."
"Is she to be married, do you know, Mr. Toosypegs?" said Erminie, in a
low voice; "we heard she was."
The little boy glanced from the corner of his eye, and saw a faint red
on the dark cheek of the tall, handsome, Spanish-looking gentleman
beside him.
Mr. Toosypegs turned pale; even his very freckles turned the color of
buttermilk curds at the question.
"Get married! Goodness gracious! I was just saying so. Oh, I knew very
well she would go and heave herself away on somebody. Who is she going
to be married to, Miss Minnie?"
"I don't know; it was this little boy who told us," said Erminie,
glancing toward him.
"Well, I don't know neither; only hearn tell," said the lad, shortly.
"Perhaps it is only a report. When will you come over to the cottage,
Mr. Toosypegs?"
"This evening, Miss Minnie; and I guess Aunt Prisciller will come, too.
She hasn't had any new caps or collars since you went away, and has ever
so many to get made."
"Very well; I will make them. Good-by, till then," said Erminie, smiling
as they drove on.
A short time sufficed to bring them to the cottage.
The driver was invited in, but declined, and turned to go.
"If you see Miss Lawless on your way, will you tell her to hurry here?"
said Erminie, as she alighted.
"Yes'm; all right!" said the boy, closing his hand over the coin Ray
gave him; and then touching his cap to Erminie, dashed away.
Lucy's delight exceeded all bounds at beholding "young mars'r and
missis" again; and then Ray and Erminie, with some difficulty,
extricated themselves from her violent caresses, went up-stairs, and
entered the room of Ketura.
Many and sad were the changes years, and sorrow, and a sort of chronic
remorse for her past acts had wrought in her. She sat in a large
easy-chair, unable to move any portion of her body but her head; her
hard, dark, grim face, bony, sharp, and hollow, the protruding bones
just covered by a wrinkled covering of skin; but the fierce, blazing,
black eyes were still unchanged.
Erminie, with the exclamation, "My dearest grandmother!" went over, and
throwing her snowy arms around her neck, kissed the dark, withered
cheek.
The old woman glanced at her, and saw the now beautiful, feminine, but
perfect image of Lord Ernest Villiers. The same large, dark, beautiful
violet-blue eyes; the same fair, silken, golden hair; the game clear,
transparent complexion; the same elegant, graceful movements; the very
expression of the features complete. All her old hatred revived at the
sight of the lovely, high-born girl. With a quick, fierce gesture, she
pushed her aside, and strove to glance around for the other she
expected.
Ray stepped forward, and touched his lips tenderly to her forehead.
Holding his hand, she made him stand off where she could the better see
him, and then she scrutinized him from head to foot. There, before her,
he stood, the living embodiment of what her son had been at his age, the
very image of him she had so passionately loved and so sadly lost. She
could scarcely persuade herself that Reginald had not risen from the
grave to meet her again. There was his very gipsy skin, and eyes of
darkened fire; the curling locks of jet, and tall, princely form; but
the expression of the mouth was different; his smile was Erminie's
exactly; and altogether there was a strong, undefined, puzzling
resemblance between them, that for a moment darkly clouded the brow of
the gipsy as she observed it. The only being in the wide world she cared
for now, was Ray. Erminie might win all other hearts, but the gipsy
Ketura's was as flint to her. She had hated her from the first; she
hated her still; she would hate her until the last, for the sake of the
race from which she sprung.
Seeing she was not wanted, Erminie left the room to change her
traveling-dress; and Ray, seating himself beside his grandmother,
proceeded to tell her of his studies, his progress, his hopes and
ambition for the future. One name he did not mention, that of Pet
Lawless; and yet it was thrilling and vibrating at his heart-strings, as
he listened impatiently for the quick, sharp clatter of her horse's
hoofs.
But hours passed, and she came not; and Ray, angry at himself for caring
or feeling so deeply disappointed, descended to join Erminie at the
tea-table.
"What is Miss Lawless to me?" was the impetuous thought that sent the
fiery blood careering to his brow. "She an heiress, and I a pauper--a
beggar, with the tainted gipsy blood in my veins. We were
friends--something more, perhaps--in the years that have passed; but
neither of us understood our relative positions, then. No; proud as she
is, she shall never know I have dared to lift my eyes to her father's
daughter. I was a fool to come on here at all. I have heard she has
driven dozens of better men crazy with her witchery; and can I rely on
my own strength to shield me from her arts? Pshaw! she will not think it
worth while, though, to stoop to flirt with me. I, a menial, educated by
the bounty of her uncle. I am safe enough, and will think of her no
more."
A very laudable resolution it was, on the young gentleman's part, but
one which he found some difficulty in carrying out, inasmuch as Mr. and
Miss Toosypegs and Admiral Havenful came in just then; and after the
first greetings were over, the whole conversation turned on Pet, her
tricks, frolics, flirtations, capers, and caprices; and Ray found
himself listening with an intense eagerness that he was half inclined to
be enraged at himself for feeling.
Then, just as night was falling, the gallop of a horse was heard coming
though the forest road; and a few minutes later, Pet alighted at the
gate, darted up the walk, burst, like the impetuous little whirlwind she
was, into the cottage, clasped Erminie in her arms, and kissed her again
and again, until Ray--though nothing earthly would have made him own it,
even to himself--would have given untold wealth to have stood in his
sister's gaiters. Three somewhat furious embraces, that quite took away
Erminie's breath, being over, Miss Lawless found time to glance at the
rest of the company, and seeing Ray, as he stood, tall, and dark, and
silent, by the window, went over and held out her hand.
There was something more nearly approaching to timidity in the action,
and in the quick glance and quicker dropping of her resplendent eyes
than any one had ever seen Pet manifest before. Ray bent over the little
dark hand, whose touch sent a quick, sudden thrill to his inmost heart,
and thought that, in all his life, he had never seen any one so
beautiful as she looked then, with her veiled eyes, and drooping
ringlets, and long, waving plumes that bent over her hat, touching her
glowing cheeks as if enamored of the darkly splendid face beneath.
"Humph! A cold welcome, my little Mother Cary's Chicken," grunted the
admiral. "Why don't you kiss him like you did Snowdrop? That's no way to
welcome a friend you haven't seen for three whole blessed years."
Ray's eyes met hers, and the color flushed to her very brow; then,
withdrawing her hand, she tossed her saucy head till all her jetty curls
flashed, and throwing herself into a seat, began talking to Erminie, as
if for a wager.
"Who told you we were come?" asked Erminie.
"No one," said Pet. "It was an inspiration from on high, I expect, that
told me I should find you here."
"It's a wonder you did not see us at Judestown; we remained there some
time."
"Well, how do you know I didn't see you?" said Pet.
"Why, you surely--oh, Pet! did you see us and never spoke?" said
Erminie, reproachfully.
"Well, I was otherwise engaged, you know--in fact, there was a young
gentleman, a very young gentleman, in the case--and I couldn't very well
have presented myself any sooner then I did," said Pet.
"One of her lovers," thought Ray, with a curling lip.
"Guess what the little boy, who drove us over, told us about you, Pet?"
said Erminie, laughing.
"What? Nothing naughty, I hope."
"Well, I don't know; that's as it may be. Shall I tell you what he
said?"
"Of course; I like to hear what people say about me."
"Well, then, he said you were going to be married."
"Not possible! What an astounding revelation! Did you think I was going
to be an old maid?"
"Then it is true? Is it any harm to ask who the happy man is, Pet?"
"Well, I haven't quite decided yet. I have some four or five on trial,
and I generally put them through a severe course of martyrdom every day.
The one who survives it (not more than one can possibly survive it) I
shall probably make miserable for life, by bestowing upon him my
hand--and heart, I was going to say, only, fortunately, they forgot to
give me one when I was made."
Erminie laughed, and then the conversation became general, and two hours
imperceptibly slipped away. Ray having wrought himself up to the belief
that Miss Lawless was a heartless flirt, worthy of no higher feeling
than contempt, he, in order to resist the dark witchery of her magnetic
eyes, wrapped himself up in his very coldest mantle of pride, and
addressed just as little of his conversation to her as he possibly
could, without being positively rude. Pet, as proud in her own way as
himself, noticed this at once, and her cheeks flushed, and her eyes
flashed, for a moment, with anger and pride. Then these signs of emotion
passed away, and she grew her own cold, careless self again, talking
away recklessly, and laughing contemptuously at all sentiment, until Ray
was more then ever convinced that the world had spoiled her, and that
she was as arrant a coquette as ever made a fool of a sensible man.
As they arose to go, Ray, feeling himself bound in courtesy, offered to
escort her home, but Pet coldly and curtly declined; and vaulting into
her saddle, dashed off at a break-neck pace, madly reckless even for
her.
Looking back once, she caught a glimpse of a tall dark form leaning
against a tree with folded arms and watching her still. Did she, with
her light, sparkling, thoughtless nature, realize the struggle going on
in that young heart, between love and pride, at that moment?
Of course, the arrival of Ray and Erminie precluded her "exploring
expedition," as she called it, to the seashore. The next morning, and
part of the afternoon, were spent with Erminie; but reaching home a
little before sunset, she suddenly remembered it, and started off on the
spur of the moment, like a female Don Quixote, in search of adventures.
"It's too late to begin a regular search," thought Pet, as she ran down
the bank leading to the shore; "so I'll just have a look round the
place, and come back some other day and have a real good hunt for
smugglers."
Fifteen minutes brought her to the beach, and there she paused to look
round. The sands for a long distance out were bare; but the tide was
slowly tramping inward. On the other hand, a huge wall of beetling rocks
and projecting crags met the eye; but these walls of rock were so smooth
and perpendicular, and so dizzily high, that the boldest sailor, used to
climbing all his life, would have hesitated before attempting to clamber
up. There were two paths leading to the shore--the one Pet had just
descended, and another about half a mile distant. Between these the
massive wall of rock chose to indulge itself in a sudden impetuous rush
out, forming a huge projecting shoulder, up which a cat could hardly
have climbed safely. The tide always covered this a considerable length
of time before it could reach the sands on either side, so that a person
caught at high tide on either side found himself cut off from crossing
over to the opposite side, unless he had a boat, or could swim.
"Now," thought Pet, "I'll have to look sharp and not let the tide catch
me on the other side of that bluff, there, or if I do, I'll have a walk
of half a mile along the beach to the other road, and after that over a
mile to get home, which is a promenade I am not anxious for. I might
swim across, it is true, but swimming with all one's clothes on is not
the pleasantest or safest thing in the world; and all the smugglers this
side of Pompey's Pillar are not worth the cold I would catch. I'll just
walk over and look at the rocks, and then come back again."
Following up this intention, Pet walked slowly along, scanning the high,
dark, frowning rocks with a curious eye. As far as she could see, there
was not the slightest trace of an opening anywhere; yet the people said
that some place along the shore the smugglers had a rendezvous. Pet's
keen eye detected every fissure large enough to hold a mouse, but no
trace of secret cave or hidden cavern could be seen.
"I might have known it was all nonsense," said Pet, mentally. "The
notion of finding an under-ground cave full of robbers and jewels, and
all that sort of thing, is too much like a play, or a story in the
'Arabian Nights,' to be natural. However, as the night's fine, I'll just
go and look on the other side of the bluff."
By this time she had reached the high projecting bowlders, and she
paused for a moment to glance at the sea. It was still several yards
distant, and Pet felt sure she could go down some distance, and return
again before the rising tide would bar her passage.
The sun had set and there was no moon; but the starlight was bright and
the sea-breeze cool and invigorating; so Pet, in high spirits, walked
on. Here and there she could catch the white sail of some boat, skimming
over the waves; but the long beach was lonely and deserted.
"Well, I guess I may as well turn back now," said Pet, half aloud. "I am
afraid my search after smugglers is going to be unsuccessful, after all.
I haven't caught anything this evening, that's certain."
"But something has caught you, pretty one," said a voice, close behind
her, so close and sudden that Pet jumped round with a startled
ejaculation, and found herself face to face with her sometime tutor and
discarded lover, Rozzel Garnet.
His face was flushed, his eyes were gleaming with triumph, as he laid
one powerful hand on her shoulder, and held her fast.
In one instant the whole danger of her situation flashed upon Pet. She
had made this man her deadly enemy; he had probably long waited for an
opportunity for revenge--here she was completely in his power, alone on
the long, dreary, deserted beach, where her cries, if she uttered any,
could reach no ear. Above her towered the high, precipitous, beetling
rocks that she could not climb; on the other hand, spread out the
boundless ocean, more merciful than him into whose hands she had fallen.
Like lightning, it all passed through her mind, and for one moment she
quailed. But then her brave heart rose; this was no time for puerile
fears, and she faced round, drew up her slight form to its full height,
and met her enemy with a dauntless eye.
"Good-evening, Mr. Garnet," she said, composedly. "This is an unexpected
pleasure. We thought you had gone away."
"Ah! did you? Gone where, Miss Lawless?" he said, with a sinister smile.
"Well--anywhere--to the county jail, as likely as not; but people don't
always get their deserts in this world."
"Very true, Miss Pet; but you are, at present, in a fair way to get
yours."
"Humph! You'll allow me to differ from you, there. I deserve something
better than bad company, I hope; so permit me to wish you a very
good-evening, Mr. Garnet."
"Not so fast, Miss Lawless; you must do your humble servant the honor of
conferring your company upon him for a few days. As I have not seen you
for so long a time, it would be highly impolite, not to say cruel, to
hasten away so soon now."
"Indeed! Mr. Garnet--indeed!" said Pet, arching her brows. "Your lesson
in the library did not cure you, I see. Are you aware there is such a
thing as a jail in Judestown, where refractory gentlemen who threaten
peaceable citizens are sometimes taken for a change of air? Really, Mr.
Garnet, I think a little wholesome correction would not hurt you in the
least."
"No, Miss Lawless, I have not forgotten that scene in the library of
your father's house," said Garnet, tightening his grasp, till Pet winced
with pain. "My hand bears the mark of your sharp teeth yet; and as I am
deeply your debtor for that Judas-kiss, I shall pay you in your own coin
before either of us are many hours older. Did you think how near
retribution was when you gave me that sharp caress, Miss Lawless?"
"'Sharp caress.' I suppose that means a bite. If you're not anxious to
test their sharpness again, Mr. Garnet, you'll let go my arm. Faith! I
wish I had made one of my servants horsewhip you from my gates, that
day; you would not have dared to come sneaking round like a
white-livered coward, that you are--now!"
"Petronilla Lawless, take care!" he hissed, with a fierce gleam of his
eye.
"Take care of what? I'm not afraid of you, Rozzel Garnet," flashed Pet.
"Anything in the shape of a man who would go round playing the spy on an
unprotected girl, has sunk rather low to be feared by me. Take care,
you! I vow if there is such a thing as a cowhide in the country, I shall
have you thrashed for this, within an inch of your cowardly life."
"And get your attached friend, the gipsy beggar, to administer it--eh,
Miss Lawless?" he said, with the smile of a fiend. "What a pity he is
not here, like a true knight-errant, to rescue his lady-love!"
"It's well for you he's not, or he wouldn't leave a whole bone in your
miserable skin. Let me go, I tell you! Your presence is pollution," said
Pet, struggling to get free.
He held her with a grasp of iron, and watched her ineffectual efforts
with a grim smile.
"I told you when we would meet again you would plead to me," he said,
with an evil gleam of his snake-like eyes. "That time has come."
"Has it, indeed?" said Pet. "Well, if you have heard or are likely to
hear me pleading to anybody under heaven, I must say you have a
wonderful pair of ears. I have read of a gentleman called Fine-ear, who
could hear the grass growing; but, upon my word, he couldn't hold a
candle to you!"
"The time will come, girl, when you will grovel and plead at my very
feet, only to be spurned!" "Now, Mr. Garnet, look here," said Pet;
"you're plagiarizing a story out of 'The Arabian Nights'
Entertainments.' You needn't think to palm it off on me as original, for
I've read it, as well as you, and know all about the glass merchant, who
fancied he would marry the vizier's daughter, and have her kneeling at
his feet, just as I am to do at your royal highness's, you know; and
then he would very ungallantly give her a kick, and in so doing smashed
his basket of glass all to pieces. You needn't think to take me in, you
see; for my education has not been neglected more than your own."
"Cease this fooling," said Garnet, angrily, "and come with me.
Resistance is useless. You are completely in my power, and may as well
come quietly."
"I won't then! Not a step will I budge, if I die for it!" said Pet,
planting her feet fairly in the yielding sand. "I am not in the habit of
walking out with gentlemen at this hour of the evening, I would have you
to know.
'Come one, come all, this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.'"
And Pet, with an undaunted look, that would have made her fortune as a
virtuous heroine in difficulties on the stage, looked unflinchingly in
his face, though her stout heart was throbbing as she each moment more
and more clearly saw her danger.
"Then I shall make you, by--!" And he swore a fearful oath, while a
terrible frown settled on his face. "Since you will not walk, I shall
bind you hand and foot and have you carried. Scream as loud as you
like," he added, grimly; "there is no one far or near to hear you."
Holding her still with one hand, he began fumbling in his pockets,
probably in search of something to bind her hands and feet. Pet cast a
quick, sweeping glance around. Along the beach not a living soul was to
be seen, and even the boats were now out of sight. They were close to
the bowlder, around which the waves were now seething and dashing; and
the tide was rapidly advancing to where they stood. Pet had her back to
the bowlder, while he stood facing it, thus wedging her into a narrow
prison, with the high, steep rocks on one side, and the dashing sea on
the other, and preventing all hope of escaping by running along the
beach.
His eye followed hers, and he said, with a triumphant chuckle:
"Caged, my bird of paradise! Snared, my mountain eaglet! Trapped, my
forest fairy! Won, my dauntless lady-love! Ha! ha! ha! Your
ever-triumphant star has set, at last, my beautiful, black-eyed bride."
Standing between her and all hope of escape, he ventured to relax his
grasp for a moment, to aid in the search for something to bind her with.
In one second, like a bolt from a bird, she darted forward, and with one
wild, flying leap, impossible to anything but desperation, she sprung
sheer into the foaming waters and vanished!
Vanished but for an instant. Pet could swim like a fish, or a cork, or a
mermaid, or anything else you please, while Mr. Rozzel Garnet had as
intense an aversion to cold water as a sufferer from hydrophobia. As
quickly as she had disappeared did her black curls glitter above the
white foam again, as she dauntlessly struck out for the shore.
She had not far to swim, and she buffeted the waves like a sea-goddess;
so, while Mr. Rozzel Garnet stood stunned, speechless, paralyzed, she
had gained the shore, fled as fast as her dripping clothes would permit
her along the beach, rushed up the path, then back again on the rocks up
above, until she stood directly over the spot where the foiled villain
still remained, as if rooted to the ground, unable to comprehend which
end he was standing on, to use a strong figure of speech.
"Hallo, Mr. Garnet! how do you find yourself?" shouted Pet, from above.
"Oh my! how beautifully you did it! My stars! you ought to have a
leather medal presented to you for catching girls--you do it so
cleverly."
He turned and looked up; and there, in the dusk, bright starlight, he
saw Pet all dripping like a Naiad, and her black eyes almost
out-flashing the stars themselves.
"Curses light on her!" he hissed between his teeth.
"Thank you, Mr Garnet! Curses, like chickens, come home to roost, you
know. Ah, you did it--didn't you?" said Pet, provokingly. "Don't you
wish you had me, though? It's slippery work holding eels, and dangerous
to play with exploding bombshells, and stinging occupation pulling
nettles; but the coat-sleeves that try to hold me will find a harder and
more dangerous job than any of them. Good-night, Mr. Rozzel Garnet, and
pleasant dreams; and remember, when you next try to captivate me, that
earth, air, fire, and water were never made to hold me."
"Ah! you may triumph now--it is your turn," he said, looking up, livid
with rage; "but mine will come yet! my time will come!"
"Well, it's consoling to hear. I hope you'll have a good time when it
does come." And with a taunting laugh, Pet darted off.
Little did either of them dream how closely that time was at hand.