THE REJECTED SUITOR
Whether he was surprised or not at finding her there, she could not say:
she was trying with all her might to appear astonished and unconcerned.
He made her a low and elaborate bow, and she responded with the deep
curtsey the fashion of the time demanded.
"Begad! the gods do indeed favour me!" he said, his good-looking, jovial
face expressing unalloyed delight. "I come to this forsaken spot on
God's earth, and find the fairest in all England treading its unworthy
soil."
"I wish you well, Sir Humphrey," she said gently, but coldly. "I had no
thought of seeing you here."
"Faith!" he laughed with some bitterness, "I had no hope that the
thought of seeing me had troubled your ladyship much. I am on my way to
Derby and foolishly thought to take this shorter way across the Moor.
Odd's life! I was well-nigh regretting it. I was attacked and robbed
last evening, and the heavy roads force me to spend the night in this
unhallowed tavern. But I little guessed what compensation the Fates had
in store for me."
"I was in a like plight, Sir Humphrey," she said, trying to speak with
perfect indifference.
"You were not robbed, surely?"
"Nay, not that, but I hoped to reach Derby sooner by taking the short
cut across the Heath, and the state of the roads has so tired the
horses, I was forced to turn off at the cross-roads and to put up at
this inn."
"Your ladyship is on your way to London?"
"On a visit to my aunt, Lady Edbrooke."
"Will you honour me by accepting my protection? 'Tis scarce fit for your
ladyship to be travelling all that way alone."
"I thank you, Sir Humphrey," she rejoined coldly. "My man, Timothy, is
with me, besides the driver. Both are old and trusted servants. I meet
some friends at Wirksworth. I shall not be alone."
"But..."
"I pray you, sir, my time is somewhat short. I had started out for a
little fresh air and exercise before re-entering my coach. The inn was
so stifling and..."
"Surely your ladyship will spend the night here. You cannot reach
Wirksworth before nightfall now. I am told the road is well-nigh
impassable."
"Nay! 'tis two hours before sunset now, and three before dark. I hope
to reach Wirksworth by nine o'clock to-night. My horses have had a good
rest."
"Surely you will allow me to escort you thus far, at least?"
"Your horses need a rest, Sir Humphrey," she said impatiently, "and I
beg you to believe that I have sufficient escort."
With a slight inclination of the head she now turned to go. From where
she stood she could just see the road winding down towards Stich's
forge, and she had caught sight of Betty's trim little figure stepping
briskly along.
Sir Humphrey, thus obviously dismissed, could say no more for the
present. To force his escort upon her openly was unfitting the manners
of a gentleman. He bit his lip and tried to look gallantly disappointed.
His keen dark eyes had already perceived that in spite of her
self-control she was labouring under strong excitement. He forced his
harsh voice to gentleness, even to tenderness, as he said,--
"I have not dared to speak to your ladyship on the subject that lay
nearest my heart."
"Sir Humphrey..."
"Nay! I pray you do not misunderstand me. I was thinking of Philip,
and hoped you were not too unhappy about him."
"There is no cause for unhappiness just yet," she said guardedly, "and
every cause for hope."
"Ah! that's well!" he said cheerfully. "I entreat you not to give up
hope, and to keep some faith and trust in your humble servant, who would
give his life for you and yours."
"My faith and trust are in God, Sir Humphrey, and in my brother's
innocence," she replied quietly.
Then she turned and left him standing there, with a frown upon his
good-looking face, and a muttered curse upon his lips. He watched her
as she went down the road, until a sharp declivity hid her from his
view.