BETRAYED.
Zillah's excitement was so great that, for all that night, she could
not sleep. There were many things for her to think about. The idea
that Hilda had been so marvelously rescued, and was still alive and
waiting for her, filled her mind. But it did not prevent her from
dwelling in thought upon the frightful scenes through which she had
passed. The thought of her dear friend's lonely voyage, drifting over
the seas in an open boat, unprotected from the storm, and suffering
from cold, from hunger, and from sorrow till sense left her, was a
painful one to her loving heart. Yet the pain of these thoughts did
not disturb her. The joy that arose from the consciousness of Hilda's
safety was of itself sufficient to counterbalance all else. Her
safety was so unexpected, and the one fact was so overwhelming, that
the happiness which it caused was sufficient to overmaster any
sorrowful sympathy which she might feel for Hilda's misfortunes. So,
if her night was sleepless, it was not sad. Rather it was joyful; and
often and often, as the hours passed, she repeated that prayer of
thankfulness which the first perusal of the letter had caused.
Besides this, the thought of going on to join Hilda was a pleasant
one. Her friend had been so thoughtful that she had arranged all for
her.
No companion could be more appropriate or more reliable than Mr.
Gualtier, and he would certainly make his appearance shortly. She
thought also of the pleasure of living in Naples, and recalled all
that she had ever heard about the charms of that place. Amidst such
thoughts as these morning came, and it was not until after the sun
had risen that Zillah fell asleep.
Two days after the receipt of that letter by Zillah, Gualtier
arrived. Although he had been only a music-teacher, yet he had been
associated in the memory of Zillah with many happy hours at
Chetwynde; and his instructions at Pomeroy Court, though at the time
irksome to her, were now remembered pleasantly, since they were
connected with the memories of her father; and on this occasion he
had the additional advantage of being specially sent by Hilda. He
seemed thus in her mind to be in some sort connected with Hilda. She
had not seen him since the Earl's illness, and had understood from
Hilda that he had gone to London to practice his profession.
As Gualtier entered, Zillah greeted him with a warmth which was
unusual from her to him, but which can readily be accounted for under
the circumstances. He seemed surprised and pleased. His small gray
eyes twinkled, and his sallow cheeks flushed with involuntary delight
at such marks of condescension. Yet in his manner and address he was
as humble and as servile as ever. His story was shortly told. He had
received, he said, a short note from Miss Krieff, by which he learned
that, owing to an act of thoughtlessness on her part, she had gone
adrift in a boat, and had been picked up by a ship on its way to
Naples, to which place she had been carried. He understood that she
had written to Lady Chetwynde to come and join her. Gualtier hoped
that Lady Chetwynde would feel the same confidence in him which Miss
Krieff had expressed in making known to him that they had been living
under an assumed name. Of course, unless this had been communicated
to him it would have been impossible for him to find her. He assured
her that with him her secret was perfectly inviolable, that he was
perfectly reliable, and that the many favors which he had received
from General Pomeroy, from the late Earl, and from herself, would of
themselves be sufficient to make him guard her secret with watchful
vigilance, and devote himself to her interests with the utmost zeal
and fidelity.
To Zillah, however, the voluble assurances of Gualtier's vigilance,
secrecy, and fidelity were quite unnecessary. It was enough that she
had known him for so many years. Her father had first made him known
to her. After him her second father, Earl Chetwynde, had made him her
teacher. Last of all, at this great hour in her life, Hilda herself
had sent him to accompany her. It would have been strange indeed if,
under such circumstances, any doubt whatever with regard to him had
for one moment entered her mind.
On the day after the receipt of Hilda's letter Zillah had gone for
the first time to the rectory, and told the joyful news to her kind
friends there. She read the letter to them, while they listened to
every word with breathless interest, often interrupting her with
exclamations of pity, of sympathy, or of wonder. Most of all were
they affected by the change which had come over Zillah, who in one
night had passed from dull despair to life and joy and hope. She
seemed to them now a different being. Her face was flushed with
excitement; her deep, dark eyes, no longer downcast, flashed with
radiant joy; her voice was tremulous as she read the letter, or spoke
of her hope of soon rejoining Hilda. These dear old people looked at
her till their eyes filled with tears; tears which were half of joy
over her happiness, and half of sadness at the thought that she was
to leave them.
"Ah, my child," said Mrs. Harvey, in a tremulous voice, "how glad I
am that your dear sister has been saved by our merciful God; but how
sad I feel to think that I shall lose you now, when I have come to
love you so!"
Her voice had such inexpressible sadness, and such deep and true
affection in its tones, that Zillah was touched to the heart. She
twined her arms fondly about the neck of the old lady, and kissed her
tenderly.
"Ah, my dearest Mrs. Harvey," said she, "how can I ever repay you for
all your loving care of me! Do not think that I did not see all and
feel all that you did for me. But I was so sad."
"But, my poor child," said the rector, after a long conversation, in
which they had exhausted all the possibilities of Hilda's
"situation," "this is a long journey. Who is this Mr. Gualtier? Do
you know him? Would it not be better for me to go with you?"
"Oh, my kind friend, how good you are!" said Zillah, again
overwhelmed with gratitude. "But there is no necessity. I have known
Mr. Gualtier for years. He was my music-teacher for a long time
before my dear father left me. He is very good and very faithful."
So no more was said on that matter.
Before Gualtier came Zillah had arranged every thing for her journey.
She decided to leave the house just as it was, under the care of the
housekeeper, with the expectation of returning at no very distant
date. The rector promised to exercise a general supervision over her
affairs. She left with him money enough to pay the year's rent in
advance, which he was to transmit to the owner. Such arrangements as
these gave great comfort to these kindly souls, for in them they saw
signs that Zillah would return; and they both hoped that the
"sisters" would soon tire even of Italy, and in a fit of homesickness
come back again. With this hope they bade her adieu.
On leaving Tenby, Zillah felt nothing but delight. As the coach drove
her to the station, as the railway train hurried her to London, as
the tidal train took her to Southampton, as the packet bore her
across the Channel, every moment of the time was filled with joyous
anticipations of her meeting Hilda. All her griefs over other losses
and other calamities had in one instant faded away at the news that
Hilda was safe. That one thing was enough to compensate for all else.
Arriving at Paris, she was compelled to wait for one day on account
of some want of connection in the trains for Marseilles. Gualtier
acted as cicerone, and accompanied her in a carriage through the
chief streets, through the Place de la Concorde, the Champs Elysées,
and the Bois de Boulogne. She was sufficiently herself to experience
delight in spite of her impatience, and to feel the wonder and
admiration which the first sight of that gay and splendid capital
always excites. But she was not willing to linger here. Naples was
the goal at which she wished to arrive, and as soon as possible she
hurried onward.
On reaching Marseilles she found the city crowded. The great
movements of the Italian war were going on, and every thing was
affected by it. Marseilles was one of the grand centres of action,
and one of the chief depots for military supplies. The city was
filled with soldiers. The harbor was full of transports. The streets
were thronged with representatives of all the different regiments of
the French army, from the magnificent steel-clad Cuirassiers, and the
dashing Chasseurs de Vincennes, to the insouciant Zouaves and the
wild Turcos. In addition to the military, the city was filled with
civil officials, connected with the dispatch of the army, who filled
the city, and rendered it extremely difficult for a stranger to find
lodgings.
Zillah was taken to the Hôtel de France, but it was full. Gualtier
went round to all the other hotels, but returned with the unpleasant
intelligence that all were likewise filled. But this did not very
greatly disturb Zillah, for she hoped to be on board the steamer
soon, and whether she found lodgings or not was a matter of
indifference to her in comparison with prosecuting her journey. After
several hours Gualtier returned once more, with the information that
he had succeeded in finding rooms for her in this hotel. He had made
an earnest appeal, he said, to the gallantry of some French officers,
and they had given up their rooms for the use of the fair Anglaise.
It was thus that Zillah was able to secure accommodation for the
night.
All that evening Gualtier spent in searching for the Naples steamer.
When he made his appearance on the following morning it was with news
that was very unpleasant to Zillah. He informed her that the regular
steamers did not run, that they had been taken up by the French
government as transports for the troops, and, as far as he could
learn, there were no provisions whatever for carrying the mails. He
could scarcely think it possible that such should be the case, but so
it was.
At this intelligence Zillah was aghast.
"No mail steamers?" said she. "Impossible! Even if they had taken up
all of them for transports, something would be put on the route."
"I can assure you, my lady, that it is as I said. I have searched
every where, and can not find out any thing," said Gualtier.
"You need not address me by my title," said Zillah. "At present I do
not choose to adopt it."
"Pardon me," said Gualtier, humbly. "It is taken for granted in
France that every wealthy English lady is titled--every French
hotel-keeper will call you 'miladi,' and why should not I? It is only
a form."
"Well," said Zillah, "let it pass. But what am I to do here? I must
go on. Can I not go by land?"
"You forget, my lady, the war in Lombardy."
"But I tell you, I _must_ go on," said Zillah, impatiently. "Cost
what it may--even if I have to buy a steamer."
Gualtier smiled faintly.
"Even if you wished to buy a steamer, my lady, you could not. The
French government has taken up all for transports. Could you not make
up your mind to wait for a few days?"
"A few days!" cried Zillah, in tones of despair--"a few days! What!
after hurrying here through France so rapidly! A few days! No. I
would rather go to Spain, and catch the steamer at Gibraltar that
Miss Krieff spoke of."
Gualtier smiled.
"That would take much longer time," said he. "But, my lady, I will go
out again, and see if I can not find some way more expeditious than
that. Trust to me. It will be strange if I do not find some way.
Would you be willing to go in a sailing vessel?"
"Of course," said Zillah, without hesitation. "If nothing else can be
found I shall be only too happy."
Upon this, Gualtier departed with the intention of searching for a
sailing vessel. Zillah herself would have been willing to go in any
thing. Such was her anxiety to get to Hilda, that rather than stay in
Marseilles she would have been willing to start for Naples in an open
boat. But on mentioning her situation to Mathilde she encountered, to
her surprise, a very energetic opposition. That important personage
expressed a very strong repugnance to any thing of the kind. First,
she dreaded a sea voyage in a sailing vessel; and secondly, having
got back to France, she did not wish to leave it. If the regular mail
vessel had been going she might not have objected, but as it was she
did not wish to go. Mathilde was very voluble, and very determined;
but Zillah troubled herself very little about this. To get to Hilda
was her one and only desire. If Mathilde stood in the way she would
go on in spite of her. She was willing to let Mathilde go, and set
out unattended. To get to Naples, to join Hilda, whether in a steamer
or a sailing vessel--whether with a maid or without one--that was her
only purpose.
On the following morning Gualtier made his appearance, with the
announcement that he had found a vessel. It was a small schooner
which had been a yacht belonging to an Englishman, who had sold it at
Marseilles for some reason or other to a merchant of the city. This
merchant was willing to sell it, and Gualtier had bought it in her
name, as he could find no other way of going on. The price was large,
but "my lady" had said that she was willing to buy a steamer, and to
her it would be small. He had ventured, therefore, to conclude the
bargain. He had done more, and had even engaged a crew, so that all
was in readiness to start.
At this news Zillah was overjoyed. Her longing to be with Hilda was
so great that even if she had been a miser she would have willingly
paid the price demanded, and far more. The funds which she had
brought with her, and which Gualtier had kindly taken charge of,
amounted to a considerable sum, and afforded ample means for the
purchase of the vessel. The vessel was therefore regularly purchased,
and Zillah at last saw a way by which she could once more proceed on
her journey. Gualtier informed her that the remainder of that day
would be needed for the completion of the preparations, and that they
would be ready to leave at an early hour on the following morning. So
Zillah awaited with impatience the appointed time.
Zillah awaked early on the following morning, but Mathilde was not to
be found. Instead of Mathilde, a letter was awaiting her, which
stated, in very respectful language, that the dread which that
personage felt at going in a sailing vessel was so strong, and her
love for her own dear country so great, that she had decided to
remain where she was. She therefore had come to the conclusion to
leave "miladi" without giving warning, although she would thereby
lose what was due her, and she hoped that "miladi" would forgive her,
and bear her in affectionate remembrance. With wishes and prayers for
"miladi's" future happiness, Mathilde begged leave to subscribe
herself "miladi's" most devoted and grateful servant.
Such was the final message of Mathilde to her indulgent mistress.
But, although at any other time Zillah would have been both wounded
and indignant at such desertion of her at such a time, yet now, in
the one engrossing thought that filled her mind, she thought but
little of this incident. At Naples, she thought, she could very
easily fill her place. Now she would have to be without a maid for
two or three days, but after all it would make no very great
difference. She could rely upon herself, and endure a few days'
discomfort very readily for Hilda's sake. It was with such feelings
as these that she awaited the arrival of Gualtier. When he came, and
heard of the departure of Mathilde, he appeared to be filled with
indignation, and urged Zillah to wait one day more till he could get
another maid for her. But Zillah refused. She was determined to go
on, and insisted on starting at once for the yacht. Finding his
remonstrances unavailing, the faithful Gualtier conducted her to the
schooner, and, as all things were in readiness, they put out to sea
immediately.
The schooner was a very handsome one, and on looking over it Zillah
felt delighted with Gualtier's good taste, or his good fortune,
whichever it might have been. It was, as has been said, a yacht,
which had been the property of an Englishman who had sold it at
Marseilles. The cabin was fitted up in the most elegant style, and
was much more roomy than was common in vessels of that size. There
was an outer cabin with a table in the middle and sofas on either
side, and an inner cabin with capacious berths. The watchful
attention of Gualtier was visible all around. There were baskets of
rare fruits, boxes of bonbons, and cake-baskets filled with delicate
macaroons and ratafias. There were also several books--volumes of the
works of Lamartine and Chateaubriand, together with two or three of
the latest English novels. He certainly had been particular to the
last degree in attending to all of her possible wants.
After inspecting the arrangements of the cabin, Zillah went out on
deck and seated herself at the stern, from which she watched the
city which they were fast leaving behind them. On casting a casual
glance around, it struck her for a moment that the crew were a
remarkably ill-looking set of men; but she was utterly inexperienced,
and she concluded that they were like all sailors, and should not be
judged by the same standard as landsmen. Besides, was not her
faithful Gualtier there, whose delicate attention was so evident even
in the most minute circumstance which she had noticed? If the thought
of the evil looks of the crew came to her, it was but for a moment;
and in a moment it was dismissed. She was herself too guileless to be
suspicious, and was far more ready to cast from her all evil thoughts
than to entertain them. In her innocence and inexperience she was
bold, when one more brave but more experienced would have been
fearful.
The wind was fair, and the yacht glided swiftly out of the harbor.
The sea was smooth, and Zillah could look all around her upon the
glorious scene. In a few hours they had left the land far behind
them, and then the grander features of the distant coast became more
plainly visible. The lofty heights rose up above the sea receding
backward, but ever rising higher, till they reached the Alpine
summits of the inland. All around was the blue Mediterranean, dotted
with white sails. All that she saw was novel and striking; she had
never sailed in a yacht before; the water was smooth enough to be
pleasant, and she gave herself up to a childlike joy.
On rising on the following morning they were far out of sight of
land. A delicious repast was placed before her for her breakfast.
After partaking she sat on deck, looking out upon the glorious sea,
with such a feeling of dreamy enjoyment as she had scarcely ever
known before. Her one chief thought was that every hour was bringing
her nearer to Hilda. When tired of the deck she went below, and lay
down in her cabin and read. So the hours passed. On that day Gualtier
surpassed himself in delicate attention to every possible wish of
hers. She herself was surprised at the variety of the dishes which
composed her dinner. She could not help expressing her thanks.
Gualtier smiled, and murmured some scarce audible words.
Two days passed, and they were now far on their way. Gualtier assured
her respectfully that on the following morning they would see the
Apennines on the Italian shore. The voyage had not been so rapid as
it might have been, but it had been exceedingly pleasant weather, and
their progress had been satisfactory. That evening Zillah watched the
sun as it set in glory below the watery horizon, and retired for the
night with the thought that in two days more she would be with Hilda.
She slept soundly that night.
Suddenly she waked with a strange sensation. Her dreams had been
troubled. She thought that she was drowning. In an agony she started
up. Water was all around her in the berth where she was lying. The
dim light of dawn was struggling through the sky-light, and she
looked around bewildered, not knowing at first where she was. Soon,
however, she remembered, and then a great horror came over her. _The
vessel was sinking!_
All was still. She gave a wild cry, and started up, wading through
the water to the door. She cried again and again, till her cries
became shrieks. In vain. No answer came. Flinging a shawl around her
she went into the outer cabin, and thence ascended to the deck.
No one was there.
No man was at the wheel. No watchers were visible. The vessel was
deserted!
[Illustration: "An Awful Fear Came Over Her."]
Louder and louder she shrieked. Her voice, borne afar over the wide
waste of waters, died out in the distance, but brought no response.
She hurried to the forecastle. The door was open. She called over and
over again. There was no reply. Looking down in the dim morning
twilight she could see plainly that the water had penetrated there.
An awful fear came over her.
The sails were lowered. The boat was gone. No one was on board
besides herself. The schooner was sinking. She had been deserted. She
had been betrayed. She would never see Hilda. Who had betrayed her?
Was Hilda really at Naples? Had she really written that letter and
sent Gualtier to her? A thousand horrid suspicions rushed through her
mind. One thought predominated--_she had been betrayed!_
But why?