DOROTHY OVERHEARS SOMETHING.
The cruel word her heart so tender thrilled,
That sudden cold did run through every vein;
And stoney horror all her senses filled
With dying fit, that down she fell for pain.
SPENSER.
And, meanwhile, where was the innocent cause of this disturbance?
Dorothy had been half expecting some such course of action on the
part of De la Zouch for some time past, and had carefully prepared
a stinging answer which should once and for ever decide the question
between them. Though she was petted and admired on almost every hand,
yet she had sense enough to value such conduct at its proper worth;
and whilst with the coquetry of a queen of hearts she accepted all the
homage that love-sick cavaliers brought to her, she looked below the
surface, and had a private opinion of her own about all those with
whom she was brought into contact.
Her opinion of Sir Henry de la Zouch was distinctly unfavourable to
that knight; for, with the instinct of a woman, she had divined from
the very beginning that his motives were more mercenary than genuine,
and in spite of all his protestations of love towards her, he had
failed to convince her that he loved her for herself alone. A little
watching on her part had quickly convinced her that the dislike she
felt for him was not without sufficient reason, and as the evidence
against him accumulated, she congratulated herself that she had
escaped the clutches of a villain of so wily a disposition.
Long before the appearance of John Manners she had determinedly
refused all the advances of her would-be lover, and his every attempt
had been met by her with chilling sarcasm; or, were she in a lighter
mood, she had retreated into safer ground under cover of a burst of
merriment. Had De la Zouch been possessed of ordinary perceptions he
would have noticed that his conduct was alienating Dorothy from him
more and more; but, like many others, he was so eager to gain his ends
that he was partially blind as to the means employed.
The manner in which Sir Henry had just preferred his suit had taken
her so completely by surprise that she had entirely forgotten what she
meant to say; but the indignation she felt at his conduct in
detaining her against her will would have deprived her of the power
of expressing the prettily turned speech so long prepared, even if she
had remembered it. She fled into the house, and without casting a look
behind to see if she were being pursued or not, she rushed through the
deserted state chambers and never stopped until she found herself in
her own room and had turned the key in the lock.
She flung herself down upon the bed, and her overwrought feelings
found relief in tears. How long she would have so remained would be
impossible to say, but she had barely succeeded in locking herself in
when she was startled by a gentle rap at the door.
She stopped her sobbing and listened. Surely De la Zouch would never
venture to follow her to her own boudoir! No, it was incredible, and
she dismissed the idea.
The silence was broken only by a second rap at the door. It was too
gentle for Sir Henry, it must be her tire-maid, Lettice, or her sister
Margaret, maybe. She rose up, and in a tremulous voice inquired who
was there.
"It is I, Lettice, your maid," replied a gentle voice.
Lettice was of all people just the one whom she stood in need of most
at such a moment, so she unfastened the door and let her in.
"My lady is troubled," exclaimed the maid, as she entered. "Is there
aught that I may do for thee?"
"Oh, Lettice," she sobbed, as the tears chased each other down her
cheeks in quick succession, "see that he does not come. Stop him, keep
him outside. Don't let him come to me."
"Who, my lady, whom shall I stop? No one dare follow thee here."
Dorothy returned no answer, she was trembling all over with
excitement; she fell upon the bed and wept, while the sympathetic
Lettice could only look on in silence, and wonder what it all meant.
"My lady is troubled," she repeated at length. "Someone has been
frightening thee. Tell me who it was! Who is it thou art feared would
try to come at thee here?"
Still there was no answer.
"You ran through the hall," the maid went on, "just like a frightened
hare, and cast never a look at one of us, and now--the saints preserve
us, thou look'st as if thou hadst seen the ghost of Mary Durden."
"Was he following me, Lettice?" asked Dorothy, raising her head from
the pillow. "Was he there?"
"Following thee, no. Who's he? There was no one else went through."
"I thought he was close behind."
"Who?"
"De la Zouch."
"Sir Henry de la Zouch!" repeated the maid. "'Tis he then who has been
treating thee so ill. Were he not a noble, my Will should thrash him
soundly for daring to offend so sweet a lady."
"Take these balls to Master Manners, Lettice," said her mistress,
composing herself as well as she was able. "You will find him waiting
for them on the bowling green. Tell him I will rejoin him soon."
Lettice unfastened the door and disappeared down the passage in
obedience to the command whilst Dorothy re-arranged her disordered
head-dress, hesitating the while whether to venture out again or to
stay within doors.
Ere she had decided which course to take, Lettice returned. Her face
was deeply flushed and her manner unusually agitated.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked Dorothy. "Has he assailed thee, too?"
"He is telling the baron such a tale," replied the maid. "He says thou
lovest him, and he is asking Sir George and my lady for thy hand. O,
Dorothy, believe me, 'tis only that thou art so fair and so rich that
he seeks thee, and when he has thy gold and the bloom of thy beauty
begins to fade (which God forfend!) he will care naught for thee, and
leave thee for another."
"I know it, Lettice."
"They are in the little bower, and I could hear everything," pursued
the maid. "That De la Zouch is jealous of another, and is seeking to
get him out of the way. He says that Master Manners killed the pedlar,
and 'fore heaven, we all know it was the witch."
"Master Manners?" echoed Dorothy.
"Yes," returned the maid, "and he says he can prove it, but the good
knight, your father, won't believe him. Master Manners denies it, of
course--but lack-a-day, what ails thee now? Thou art as white as the
veriest ghost!"
"'Tis nothing," replied Doll, as she sank down into a chair. "I am a
trifle faint; give me some water, Lettice."
"Nay, but it is something," returned the other, as she speedily
complied with her mistress's behest. "Thou canst not throw me off like
that. Come, my good lady, tell me what it is; there are few things you
hide from me."
"There is nothing to tell you, Lettice," she replied, "but prithee go
on; what did Sir Henry de la Zouch make answer?"
"He said he had a witness, but I had to hasten away, for I heard
footsteps approaching; but come, I can read your secret; Master
Manners will make a worthy knight."
"Keep such thoughts to thyself, Lettice," Dorothy blushingly replied.
"Trust me," said the maid, with a toss of her pretty head. "I will do
thy bidding; but faith! you will be a comely pair."
"Hush, or I shall be angry with thee. I tell thee he has said naught
yet."
"And I tell thee, Mistress Dorothy," returned Lettice, "he is head and
ears in love with thee. I would stake my troth on it; there!"
"I wish it were so," sighed Dorothy, "for I love him dearly."
"It is so, assuredly it is," replied her companion, decisively. "Let
me give him a hint, my lady."
"No, Lettice, not another word; don't breathe it to a soul unless I
bid thee."
"My Will could do it," continued the other, "an you would but let him
try. He can do anything that way, Will can."
"Be quiet, Lettice; and mind you take care of your tongue. No one must
even so much as guess at the truth; there, begone."
"Happen you would like to see if they have settled the matter?"
suggested the tire-maid; "let us go and see."
Dorothy willingly agreed, and away they went through room after room,
until at last Lettice stopped.
"Let me open the window," she said; "we shall hear better here than
anywhere else," and she stepped upon a chair and silently pushed the
latticed window open. The balmy breeze came pouring into the room,
bringing in with it the sound of the conversation from outside.
"That's splendid," she said. "Now, my lady, listen."
"I tell you it's of no use, Sir Henry. I don't believe a word of it."
"Nevertheless, Sir George, it's perfectly true."
"Well, I cannot believe it," returned the baron, sharply, "but all
the same, you will have to fight him now. We shall make quite a grand
affair of it; 'tis a rare long time since there was a tournament at
Haddon."
"I had rather it passed off quietly," suggested De la Zouch, who was
by no means confident of his own prowess in a stern contest with naked
weapons. "It is only by thy direct command that I have consented to
enter the lists to fight him. 'Tis more a case for the assize than for
thee. Sir George, and I have my honour to maintain."
"You must let that remain with me," replied the baron. "Eustace is
but a page, and as Manners rightly enough pointed out, his word would
count for little in such a circumstance. But apart from all such
considerations, I flatly tell you, Sir Henry, that I don't for a
minute think him guilty. The ordeal--"
"Tut, bother the ordeal," broke in De la Zouch, who was rapidly losing
control of his temper. "Then you doubt me?"
"You are rash, sir knight," interrupted Lady Maude. "You do not do
proper justice to the baron."
"Hark! what's that?" whispered Lettice, "There's someone coming."
"Inside?"
"No, don't you hear them coming on the gravel?"
"Listen," exclaimed Doll, nervously, "'twas but Eustace, the page,
stealing away; he's been playing eavesdropper."
"Like us," laughed the maid.
"Hush! Sir Henry is talking. How excited he is. Listen."
"I humbly crave his pardon then, fair lady. When shall I learn what
fate you have in store for me?"
"Not till after the tournament, at least," promptly replied Lady
Vernon.
"And that will be--prithee when?"
"This day week, and in the meantime I would advise you as a friend to
practise well with your arms," and, added the baron with grim humour,
"say your prayers day by day, Sir Henry, for Manners has not fought in
the Netherlands for naught."
"Then I shall present myself before you, Lady Vernon, at the
conclusion of the tourney," he loftily replied, "and I will have my
answer then."
"If so be, that is, that there be aught left of thee to come,"
supplemented Sir George, considerably nettled at the other's tone,
"for I hear that Manners is terrible with the sword."
"Thank you, sir baron," was the proud retort, "but I have learnt
ere now how to hold the lance, and can wield the mace;" and without
deigning to cast a look behind him he strode away in an ill humour
with himself and everybody else, to scowl in silence at the group of
merrymakers on the green.
"There, a pretty lover!" exclaimed Dorothy, as her suitor walked away,
"but I have given him his answer."
"Hush, my lady," whispered the maid.
"We shall be able to get it all arranged for a week to-day, and you
shall be queen of the tourney, Maude, if it so please you."
"I, Sir George? I indeed!" replied the dame. "Pooh! my queening days
are gone. It must be either Margaret or Dorothy."
"Fancy," whispered Lattice, "you the queen of the tournament!"
"Hush!"
"But I hear he is likely to lose the Ashby estates. Think of that, Sir
George; think of that. He would be a poor man directly."
"Why, how?"
"The Ashby estates were forfeited to the De la Zouches, but King Henry
granted them back before he died, and I hear they are like to go at
last."
"It were a pity for Sir Henry, but in truth, Maude, I like him not."
"Pooh, nonsense! He wants none of our pity, but I tell thee Dorothy is
too good a match to throw away upon him."
"Perhaps so, Maude," replied the baron; "it may be so, but I shall
be much mistaken if, after the tournament, he is able to ask for her
again, but if he does I will refer him to you."
"That will do, Lettice," said Dorothy. "I have heard quite sufficient.
Shut the window; I will go now and see how they are faring on the
bowling green. I have a lighter heart now." And followed by a "God
speed you" from her maid, she opened the door and passed out of the
room.