At the Green Chamber.
As they approached the house, Jacques, who sat awaiting M. Varbarriere's
return, behind the door facing the conservatory, was disagreeably
surprised by a visit from the butler.
"Here I am!" exclaimed Jacques very cheerfully, feeling that he could
not escape.
"Ow! haw! Mr. Jack, by gad!" exclaimed the butler, actually jumping back
in panic, and nearly extinguishing his candle on his breast.
It was his custom, on hearing a noise or seeing a light, to make a
ceremonious reconnoissance in assertion of his character, not of course
in expectation of finding anything; and here at length he thought he had
lighted on a burglar, and from the crown of his head to his heels froze
thrills of terror. "And what the devil, Mr. Jack, are you doing here,
please, sir?"
"Waiting, my friend, to admit Monsieur, my master," answered Jacques,
who was adroit enough to know that it is sometimes cunning to be frank.
In fact it was the apparition of M. Varbarriere, in his queer hat and
cloak, crossing a window, which had inspired the butler with a
resolution to make his search.
"Haw! dear me! yes, I saw him, Mr. Jack, I did; and what, Mr. Jack, is
the doors opened for at these hours, unbeknown to me?"
"My most dear friend, I am taking every care, as you see; but my master,
he choose to go out, and he choose to come in. Jacques is nothing but
what you call the latch-key."
"And what is he a-doing hout o' doors this time o' night, Mr. Jack? I
never knowd afore sich a think to 'appen. Why it looks like a
stragethim, that's what it does, Mr. Jack--a stragethim."
And the butler nodded with the air of a moral constable.
"It's a folly, Monsieur. My faith! a little _ruse_ of love, I imagine."
"You don't mean to say he's hout a-larkin?"
Jacques, who only conjectured the sense of the sentence, winked and
smiled.
"Well, I don't think it's not the way he should be."
"My master is most generous man. My friend, you shall see he shall know
how kind you have been. Monsieur, my master, he is a _prince_!" murmured
Jacques, eloquently, his fingers on the butler's cuff, and drew back to
read in his countenance how it worked.
"It must not hoccur again, Mr. Jack, wile ere," replied the butler, with
another grave shake of his head.
"Depend yourself on me," whispered Jacques again in his ear, while he
squeezed the prudent hand of the butler affectionately. "But you must go
way."
"I do depend on you, Mr. Jack, but I don't like it, mind--I don't like
it, and I won't say nothink of it till I hear more from you."
So the butler withdrew, and the danger disappeared.
"You will please to remember, sir," said Varbarriere, as they approached
the house, "that this is of the nature of a military movement--a
surprise; there must be no sound--no alarm."
"Quite so," whispered old Lennox, with white lips. He was clutching
something nervously under the wide sleeve of his loose drab overcoat. He
stopped under the shadow of a noble clump of trees about fifty steps
away from the glass door they were approaching.
"I--I almost wish, sir--I'll go back--I don't think I can go on, sir."
Varbarriere looked at his companion with an unconscious sneer, but said
nothing.
"By ----, sir, if I find it true, I'll kill him, sir."
The old man had in his gouty grip one of those foolish daggers once so
much in vogue, but which have now gone out of use, and Varbarriere saw
it glimmer in the faint light.
"Surely, Colonel Lennox, you don't mean--you can't mean--you're not
going to resort to violence, sir?"
"By ----, sir, he had best look to it."
Varbarriere placed his hand on the old man's sleeve, he could feel the
tremor of his thin wrist through it.
"General Lennox, if I had fancied that you could have harboured such a
thought, I never should have brought you here."
The General, with his teeth clenched, made him no reply but a fierce
nod.
"Remember, sir, you have the courts of law, and you have the code of
honour--either or both. One step more I shall not take with you, if you
mean that sort of violence."
"What do you mean, sir?" asked the General, grimly.
"I mean this, sir, you shall learn nothing by this night's procedure,
unless you promise me, upon your honour as a soldier, sir, and a
gentleman, that you will not use that dagger or any other weapon."
General Lennox looked at him with a rather glassy stare.
"You're right, sir, I dare say," said Lennox, suddenly and helplessly.
"You promise?"
"Ay, sir."
"Upon your honour?"
"Upon my honour; ay, sir, my honour."
"I'm satisfied, General. Now observe, you must be silent, and as
noiseless as you can. If Sir Jekyl be apprised of your arrival, of
course the--the experiment fails."
General Lennox nodded. Emerging into the moonlight, Varbarriere saw how
pale and lean his face looked.
Across the grass they pace side by side in silence. The glass door
opened without a creak or a hitch. Jacques politely secured it, and,
obeying his master's gesture, led the way through the gallery to the
hall.
"You'll remember, General, that you arrived late; you understand? and
having been observed by me, were admitted; and--and all the rest
occurred naturally."
"Yes, sir, any d--d lie you like. All the world's lying--why should not
I?"
At the foot of the staircase Jacques was dismissed, having lighted
bed-room candles for the two gentlemen, so that they lost something of
their air of Spanish conspirators, and they mounted the stairs together
in a natural and domestic fashion.
When they had crossed the lobby, and stood at the door of the
dressing-room, Varbarriere laid his hand on General Lennox's arm--
"Stop here a moment; you must knock at Lady Alice's door over there, and
get the key of your room. She locks the door and keeps the key at night.
Make no noise, you know."
They had been fortunate hitherto in having escaped observation; and
Varbarriere's strategy had, up to this point, quite succeeded.
"Very quietly, mind," whispered he, and withdrew behind the angle of the
wall, toward the staircase.
Old Lennox was by this time at the door which he had indicated, and
knocked. There was a little fuss audible within, but no answer. He
knocked again more sharply, and he heard the gabble of female voices;
and at last a rather nervous inquiry, "Who's there, please?"
"General Lennox, who wants the key of his room," answered he, in no mood
to be trifled with. The General was standing, grim as fate, and stark as
Corporal Trim, bed-room candle in hand, outside her door.
"He's _not_ General Lennox--send him about his business," exclaimed an
imperious female voice from the state bed, in which Lady Alice was
sitting, measuring some mysterious drops in a graduated glass.
"My lady says she's sorry she can't find it to-night, sir, being at
present in bed, please, sir."
"Come, child--no nonsense--I want my key, and I'll have it," replied the
General, so awfully that the maid recoiled.
"I think, my lady, he'll be rude if he doesn't get it."
"What's the man like?"
"A nice-spoken gentleman, my lady, and dressed very respectable."
"You never _saw_ General Lennox?"
"No, my lady, please."
Neither had Lady Alice; but she had heard him minutely described.
"A lean ugly old man is he, with white bristly whiskers, you know, and a
white head, and little grey eyes, eh?"
They had no notion that their little confidence was so distinctly
audible to the General without, who stood eyeing the panel fiercely as a
sentry would a suspicious figure near his beat, and with fingers
twitching with impatience to clutch his key.
"What sort of nose?" demanded the unseen speaker--"long or short?"
"Neither, please, my lady; bluish, rayther, I should say."
"But it is either long or short, _decidedly_, and I forget which," said
Lady Alice--"'_Tis_n't he!"
The General ground his teeth with impatience, and knocked so sharp a
signal at the door that Lady Alice bounced in her bed.
"Lord bless us! How dare he do that?--tell him how dare he."
"Lady Alice, sir, would be much obliged if you'd be so good not knock so
loud, sir, please," said the maid at the door, translating the message.
"Tell your mistress I'm General Lennox, and must have my key," glared
the General, and the lady's-maid, who was growing nervous, returned.
"He looks, my lady, like he'd beat us, please, if he does not get the
key, my lady."
"Sha'n't have it, the brute! We don't know he is--a robber, maybe. Bolt
the door, and tell him to bring Monsieur Varbarriere to the lobby, and
if _he_ says he's General Lennox he shall have the key."
With trembling fingers the maid _did_ bolt the door, and once more
accost the soldier, who was chafing on the threshold.
"Please, sir, my lady is not well, having nervous pains, please sir, in
her head to-night, and therefore would be 'appy if you would be so kind
to bring Mister Barvarrian" (the name by which our corpulent friend was
known in the servants' hall) "to her door, please, when she'll try what
she may do to oblige you, sir."
"They don't know me," said the General, accosting Varbarriere, who was
only half a dozen steps removed, and whom he had rejoined. "You must
come to the door, they say, and tell them it's all right."
Perhaps with some inward sense of the comic, Varbarriere presented
himself at the door, when, his voice being recognised, and he himself
reconnoitred through the keyhole and reported upon, the maid presented
herself in an extemporised drapery of cloaks and shawls, like a
traveller in winter, and holding these garments together with one hand,
with the other presented the key, peering anxiously in the General's
face.
"Key, sir, please."
"I thank you," said the General, with a nod, to which she responded with
such a courtesy as her costume permitted. The door shut, and as the
gentlemen withdrew they heard the voices of the inmates again busy with
the subject.
"Good-night," whispered Varbarriere, looking in the General's blue eye
with his own full and steady gaze.
"I know you'll remember your promise," said he.
"Yes--what?"
"No _violence_" replied Varbarriere.
"No, of course, I said so. Good-bye."
"You must appear--your _manner_, mind--just as usual. Nothing to
alarm--you may defeat all else."
"I see."
Varbarriere pressed his hand encouragingly. It felt like death.
"Don't fear me," said General Lennox. "We'll see--we'll see, sir;
good-bye."
He spoke in a low, short, resolute tone, almost defiant; but looked very
ill. Varbarriere had never taken leave of a man on the drop, but thought
that this must be like it.
He beckoned to him as the General moved toward the dressing-room door,
and made an earnest signal of silence. Lennox nodded, applied the key,
and Varbarriere was gone.