LORD ROSMORE AS A FRIEND
A wave of colour swept into Harriet's face as Rosmore turned to her with
a smile. Doubt and uncertainty had been hers a moment ago, and the sting
of Crosby's words had hurt her; now this open declaration clothed her
with a pleasant confusion, vindicated her presence in these rooms, and
it was natural, perhaps, that there should be gratification in her heart
that her former master should understand how important a person she had
become.
Crosby remained silent. Was Rosmore speaking the truth? Could such a man
marry such a woman? It seemed impossible, and yet where love rules the
impossible constantly happens. He had grown so used to seeing Harriet
Payne a serving maid at his manor at Lenfield that he had thought of her
in no other position. As he looked at her now, standing with her hand in
Rosmore's, he was bound to admit that she made a pretty figure, that
many an eye might turn upon her with pleasure, that she certainly looked
something more than a mere serving maid.
"Have you no congratulations to offer, Mr. Crosby?" said Rosmore. "Will
you not withdraw some of the hard words you have spoken against this
lady?"
"I cannot forgive even your future wife for deceiving Mistress Lanison."
"You will presently, when you understand that Mistress Lanison has been
saved from the intrigues of her uncle and guardian. For the rest, her
happiness lies chiefly in your hands, and you may find me more useful as
a living friend than I should have proved as a dead enemy. Gad! you look
as if you doubted it. No man is such a villain as he is painted, and,
being a lover myself, I sympathise with all lovers. Perhaps you are
right to be cautious, wise not to trust me until I have proved myself.
For a day or two you must be my guest, and you will forgive me if I,
too, am cautious. You know my position in the West, and, truth to tell,
I have used it in somewhat unwarrantable fashion on Mistress Lanison's
behalf. I cannot afford to let you loose in Dorchester while you still
think me an enemy. You must not blame me, then, if I have you guarded so
that you must remain my guest even against your will. It will only be
for a day or two. To-morrow we will go into my scheme in detail, and in
the meanwhile I would remind you that your capture would rejoice the
hearts of many. You will be wise to accept quietly the asylum I offer
you in this house."
"I hope I shall live to thank you for your generosity," said Crosby.
"Indeed, I hope so," Rosmore answered, and he called to the men who were
waiting without. "Make Mr. Crosby comfortable in one of the rooms
upstairs. He is my guest, Sayers, and is to be well treated. That I have
such a visitor is not to be spoken of, but you must see that he remains
my guest. I do not ask for your parole, Mr. Crosby, because I do not
believe you would give it, but I ask you to be wise for--for the sake of
Mistress Lanison. Unfasten those bonds, Sayers--we do not keep prisoners
here."
"I do not understand you, Lord Rosmore," said Crosby, standing up. "It
may be that I shall know you better to-morrow."
"You will have slept, I trust, and clearer vision often comes with the
new day. Good-night."
With a slight inclination of the head Crosby left the room with his two
gaolers, for gaolers they surely were, although he had been called a
guest. One of the triple alliance had grievously failed in his endeavour
to help the woman who was in such sore distress; would the others fail
as ignominiously?
"Are you satisfied?" asked Rosmore, turning to Harriet. "This pretty
head of yours must have thought of hating me as you heard my character
so basely spoken of."
"I am a woman, and was suspicious."
"And now, though still a woman, have no evil thoughts about me. I
warrant you, this fellow Crosby will hardly be gracious enough to thank
me when I place the woman he loves in his arms."
"You have not told me your scheme." "Scheme!" Rosmore exclaimed. "My
head is full of schemes, and one comes uppermost at this moment. It is
natural since it concerns you. I cannot let you serve another any
longer. There are many rooms in this house; you shall stay here. Nay,
let this kiss stop all remonstrance. I will send at once for some decent
woman in the town who shall be your maid for the present, and Mistress
Lanison shall have someone to wait on her in your place. I cannot have
the lady who is to be my wife stooping even to serve Mistress Lanison.
Rosmores ever looked eye to eye with their fellows, and long ancestry
and loyalty have given them privileges even in the presence of the King.
Are you angry that I already teach you something of what my love means?"
"Angry? No; proud."
"Come, then. Let us see what is the best this house can do for you."
"Am I to be guarded like your other guest?" she asked demurely.
"Aye, far more strongly guarded, for at every exit Love shall stand
sentinel."
She leaned towards him, and he kissed her again, even as a man will kiss
the woman he worships. Then they went out.
Barbara Lanison was sorely troubled when Harriet Payne did not return.
The girl had gone to try once more to get speech with Judge Marriott,
and her mistress waited for her impatiently. So much depended on her
success, and never for a single instant had Barbara doubted her loyalty.
As the hours passed and the girl did not return she grew anxious. The
town was in the hands of rough soldiers, whose licence, if even half the
stories she had heard were true, had gone unpunished. The officers were
no better than their men, and there must be a thousand dangers for a
girl like Harriet Payne in the streets of Dorchester. Barbara blamed
herself for letting her run into such danger, and, as she thought more
of her, thought less of the mission upon which she had sent her.
It was late when the door opened and Watson came in. Barbara had crossed
the room hurriedly, supposing that it was Harriet, but stopped, seeing
who her visitor was.
"I have just heard that your maid will not return," Said Watson.
"Where is she?"
The man shrugged his shoulders.
"How can I know? She has probably found freedom more attractive than
this place."
"Tell me the truth," said Barbara.
"I know no more than that she will not return. That was the bald message
she sent, with a suggestion that someone else must be found to serve
you. To-night, it is too late to search the town for a woman willing to
undertake the duty, but to-morrow--"
"I want no other maid," said Barbara. "There is some reason why the girl
does not return to me, and you know that reason."
"I can guess."
"It is easy to understand," Barbara returned. "The streets of Dorchester
are not safe for any honest woman to-day."
"That may be so, madam, but I do not think it is the reason of Mistress
Payne's desertion. I think fear has stepped in. At the best she did not
seem to me a courageous person, at the worst she would be an easy
coward. At any moment Judge Jeffreys may arrive in the town, and it
would seem that he has less pity on those who help rebels than on the
rebels themselves; I think that is why your maid does not return."
Barbara did not answer. The coming of Judge Jeffreys must seal the fate
of Gilbert Crosby. So important a prisoner would be quickly tried and
speedily executed. Her mission had failed.
"Yes, I believe that is the reason," Watson went on after a pause. His
conscience awoke for a moment and pricked him sharply, but the breaking
of this woman's spirit meant money in his pocket, and his manner of life
had made him an easy victim to such a temptation. Had Barbara shown fear
and pleaded with him, she might have prevailed and gained a friend; as
she did not, the man found a certain brutal satisfaction in doing his
best to destroy her courage by carrying out his master's instructions.
"I have no doubt that is the reason," he repeated with some emphasis,
"and I hardly care to blame her. It is a good thing to keep out of the
way of Judge Jeffreys. Have you heard about Lady Alice Lisle and what
they did to her lately at Winchester?"
"I have heard of her," said Barbara.
"She was no rebel, I take it," said Watson, "She only assisted a couple
of fugitives, and for that paid the penalty."
Barbara looked at him questioningly, and he entered into details,
sparing her nothing of the history of this fiendish judicial murder, and
contrived to let her see that her own case was not unlike Lady Lisle's.
Barbara did not move, uttered no sound during the recital. When Watson
had finished she looked at him.
"It is a marvel to me that rebellion has been confined to the West," she
said quietly. "Were I a strong man, I should be in revolt at such
injustice."
"You would be as others, afraid to speak."
"There are some who are not afraid," she answered.
"Aye, and will dangle from a gibbet for their pains. May a rough trooper
give you a word of advice?"
She bowed her head slowly.
"If you have friends, make petition to them," said Watson. "Be humble,
and endeavour to escape standing before Judge Jeffreys."
"Can you tell me of what I shall be accused?" Barbara asked.
"No, but means will be found to destroy you. I hear the gossip, and I
draw my conclusions."
"Can you suggest anyone to whom I can apply?"
Watson had no suggestion to make, but he promised that any message she
might send should be delivered.
"I thank you for the advice and for the promise," said Barbara. "I can
think of no friend in Dorchester, and I am not sure that being a rebel
is not the more honourable position to-day."
"It means death."
"Well? Are there not worse things than death?"
"Truly, I think not. From all other ills a man may perchance recover,
but from death--never."
Barbara smiled. It was not likely that this man would understand.
"Think over my advice to-night," said Watson. "There are many in
Dorchester who might help you. Think to-night, and give me the names of
some friends to-morrow. I shall know whether they are in the town, and
would help you. To-morrow also I will seek for a new maid to serve you."
"Spare yourself that trouble," Barbara said as he went to the door. "So
short a service as I shall require is not worth anyone's taking."
Watson was a soldier, and in his way a good soldier. He would have faced
death at a moment's notice so long as he was well paid for doing so, and
would be loyal to those he served, unless perchance a very heavy bribe
were offered him and there was a reasonable probability of safety in
accepting it. He had risen to some authority amongst his fellows, and
did not think meanly of himself. He was convinced that his treatment of
Barbara Lanison had been diplomatic, whereas his whole manner and
conversation had put her upon her guard. He had succeeded in convincing
her that he was laying a trap for her indiscretion, and that to trust
him would be only playing into the hands of her enemies. In the morning
she had thought of no friend to mention to him, and had decided not to
trust him even with a message to Judge Marriott. Such a message was more
likely to be used against her than on her behalf. Shrugging his
shoulders, Watson departed, and did not disturb her again until the
evening. Then he entered the room quietly, and dropped his voice to a
whisper.
"I have found you a friend," he said, "a powerful friend who runs some
risk to serve you. Take my advice, and treat him courteously."
"Who is he?"
Watson did not answer, but went to the door. A closely-cloaked figure
entered, and Watson went out, closing the door. Then the cloak was
thrown back.
"Lord Rosmore!" Barbara exclaimed.
"At your service, but speak low. I come secretly. This trooper found me
out, but I had already been scheming on your behalf. He was able to help
me in my one remaining difficulty."
She drew back from him.
"I have not asked for your help," she said.
"I know. You have misunderstood me, Mistress Lanison, and I grant you
have had some reason. I would have won you if I could, and, as many
another lover has done, I have thought all ways honest. I was wrong. I
ask your pardon."
"What is the purpose of this visit?" she asked. She knew that she was a
helpless prisoner, she knew that this man was powerful in the West, yet
she stood before him, looking straight into his eyes, defying him to
frighten her or to bend her to his will.
"To help you."
"I have no need of your help," she answered.
"I have more than words to prove my sincerity, yet I would justify
myself a little. I have loved you; even now I may think that your coming
to the West was foolish, that the man you have jeopardised yourself to
save is hardly worthy, but--"
"You have beaten me, Lord Rosmore," said Barbara quietly. "I am
convinced that I owe my position here in Dorchester to you and to my
uncle. It may save you trouble and time if I tell you that your success
ends here. I would rather die the death of a traitor than marry you."
"I know that," he returned just as quietly. "Love plays the fool with us
all, even making Mistress Lanison of Aylingford Abbey fall a victim to
the worship of a highwayman. To help him you are even willing to
sacrifice yourself to a brute like Judge Marriott."
"I have indeed been betrayed by those I trusted," said Barbara.
"It is the common fortune, and help conies, as it often does, from those
we distrust and hate," was the answer. "Marriott would have let you
sacrifice yourself, but he would have done little else. It makes me sick
to think that I should have a rival in such a man. But let that pass.
You were doomed to failure, for it is my business to know everything
that happens in the West just now."
"Again I say, Lord Rosmore, that between us there can be no terms."
"Still, you must listen to me; so far you are in my power. Your
infatuation for Galloping Hermit seemed to me so impossible a thing that
I confess I have done my utmost to save you. You are not to be saved;
therefore I will help you. What your sacrifice could never have done, my
knowledge of Marriott's vile character has accomplished. I have in my
possession two orders--one for your release, one for the release of
Gilbert Crosby."
A quick intake of her breath showed Barbara's sudden excitement. For an
instant the good news was everything, the next moment she remembered
from whom it came. Either the news was untrue, or there would be
conditions.
"I can see that you do not trust me," said Rosmore, reading the look in
her eyes. "These are the orders signed by Judge Marriott."
She looked at the papers which he held out.
"Even these shall not tempt me to make terms."
"There are no conditions except that you and your lover leave
Dorchester--together," he said with a short laugh. "He will probably
hasten to get out of the country as soon as possible, since he has
become too notorious to live in it in safety, unless he still prefers
the excitement of the road to the quiet peacefulness of your love."
"Is this some new trickery?" she asked.
"Perhaps there is some little revenge in it," he answered. "There comes
a time when a scorned lover may cease to care for the woman who flouts
him, and will remember that the world holds fairer women. When he finds
this fairer love he is happy, but a spirit of retaliation may remain. I
think this is my case. To be the wife of a notorious highwayman would
not appeal to many women; most women would prefer to be Lady Rosmore,
whatever the drawbacks to such a position might be. Mistress Lanison
will go her own way, and I should be more than human if I did not hope
that she may live to regret it. There is no trickery, and no condition
except that you leave Dorchester together. Once safely in his hands, I
can trust Gilbert Crosby not to let you escape him."
"I ought to thank you, Lord Rosmore, but--"
"But you may live to curse me for my help. It is possible, probable
even. You have three days to think it over. Escape will not be possible
until then."
"There is some scheme against me," said Barbara passionately. "You and
my guardian have--"
"I said I had more than words to prove my sincerity," said Rosmore,
going to the door. He went out. "I will give you an hour," Barbara heard
him say, and then another closely-cloaked figure entered and the door
was shut and locked.
"Gilbert!" she cried, and the next moment she was sobbing in his arms.