JAMES BLAKE DOES SOME EXPLAINING
They were all wary as they picked their way over the dry rutted road,
but Nan more so than any of them. Even as James Blake felt responsible
for her, so she felt responsible for her friends. There was small
comfort now, in this lonely place, in the memory that the hunchback had
told Bess that "these things had no part of her." The accident, if such
it might be called, on the hill just now, might very well have killed
them all. Nan shuddered as she thought of how serious it might have
been.
She peered this way and that into the tangle of bushes, grass, and
thistles along the way, not knowing what she was looking for, but
suspicious of every dark shadow.
Once, she looked gratefully up at the sky, the big moon, and the bright
stars. She stumbled.
"No star gazing tonight," Laura steadied her as she almost fell. "And
what a moon, and what a sky, and what a shadow." Laura pointed off to
the right. "Look," she whispered, half in fun, half in seriousness,
"look, it's like a man carrying something long in his hand."
Nan's glance followed Laura's. The shadow--was it a man's? She watched
it. Was it moving? Then she breathed a deep sigh.
"Oh, Laura," she chided her friend, "it's only a tree! Will you stop
teasing?"
"What was a tree?" Grace was on edge too, anxious to get inside, anxious
to get away from this castle that had seemed so wonderful and so grand
only a few hours ago.
"Nothing, Grace." Nan tried to keep her own voice from seeming worried
as she spoke. "Laura's seeing things in the dark."
Grace didn't answer, because she had been seeing things too. In the face
of Nan's quietness and calmness, it did seem silly. With this thought,
she felt encouraged and looked more bravely around her. An owl hooted.
She jumped. All the girls jumped. It was Dr. Prescott's voice this time
that calmed them down.
"Almost there, girls!" her voice actually sounded cheery in the night.
"Aye, and safely too." Old James Blake had been particularly silent
since they left the carriage. Now, he spoke with a great sense of
relief. Already he could see that a door was open and inside there was
light and security.
He stepped his foot on the first of the broad stone steps and stood
there as the girls walked on up through the door and into the light of
the great hall. After watching them disappear, he turned, gave one last
penetrating glance into the night, but saw nothing to disturb him
further. He listened then for the sound of the horses, heard one whinny.
It was a rather pleasant, comforting sound. He was satisfied that they
were being properly cared for, so he too walked up the steps, conscious
now for the first time that the wound in his forehead ached and that his
head hurt.
The pain angered him. Again he turned away from the light. This time, he
shook his fist at the unseen forces out there in the dark.
"Ye'll not do her harm," he said, "as long as James Blake can fight."
With this, he set his chin firmly and followed the American lassies into
the castle.
Already, at Dr. Prescott's insistence they had found their way to their
rooms. She lingered in the apartment until they had undressed and were
safely in bed. Then she herself carefully closed their doors before she
returned to the Hall where James Blake was sitting before the big open
fireplace, puzzling over the whole situation.
"Your head, is it injured badly?" There was a real note of concern in
her voice as she spoke. She liked this old Scotsman, even if she
couldn't understand the ways of his household.
"It's nothing at all," he waived all consideration of himself. "Are the
lassies all right?" He nodded his head in the direction of the stairs.
Dr. Prescott knew by his tone that his entire thought was for them.
"Quite all right at present," she answered as she sat down in the chair
he had pulled out for her with a quaint courtly sort of grace. "Now,
tell me," she entreated, "what is this all about? What happened down on
the hill?"
He didn't answer at once, but sat thinking. Should he tell as much of
the story as he knew? Would it help or hinder this woman to know? For a
moment he sat appraising her. She looked capable enough, he decided, but
then, there was no telling about women. He shook his head and winced,
without thinking, at the pain. After all, he decided finally, this
pleasant looking woman was Nan's guardian in the absence of her mother
and father. It was only fair that she know everything that he did. Then,
too, if things worked out rightly, she would have to be Nan's sponsor in
the whole London business.
Dr. Prescott, though she couldn't read his thoughts exactly, knew, from
her long experience with people, approximately what was going on in his
mind. She sat silent while she saw him coming to his decision.
Eventually, he spoke. "You know, of course," he said, "the story of Mrs.
Sherwood's inheritance?" Dr. Prescott nodded her head. "And why Nancy is
here?" he continued.
Dr. Prescott was a little puzzled at this question. "Why--yes," she
agreed slowly, "to see the estate."
"Yes, in part." James Blake seemed to be feeling his way along now.
"That is the reason that was given, at least, for our anxiety to have
her come, that and the fact that we wanted to see her. An old man's
whim, you know, that is what Nan's mother, bless her heart, thought. But
actually, there is more behind this than appears on the surface.
"Old Hugh Blake was more of a power in this section of Scotland than
most people of this generation realize," he went on. "The Blake family,
in the beginning of Scotland's history, was, if you will pardon my
saying so, for I, too, am one of his descendants, because of its wealth
and intelligence, very close to the royal family. However, the old line
gradually died out. This explains how it happened Mrs. Sherwood
inherited the estate.
"But in the old days, when the clans hereabouts practically ruled the
country, the Blakes of Emberon were frequently called to London to
advise the king's ministers. At such times they were generally rewarded
in one way or another. Sometimes it was with land, sometimes with
important foreign posts, sometimes with court privileges that were
highly prized in those days. Yes, and highly respected," he added, as
the thought of the day's happenings again crossed his mind.
"So it happened that Hugh Blake the fourth, the original Laird of
Emberon--it was he who built this Hall we are sitting in--back in the
sixteenth century performed a service to the King that won for him an
ambassadorship to France. It was a particularly ticklish post then, for
France and Scotland and England were continually having trouble.
"Well, Hugh Blake, he is supposed to have been a very charming young man
at the time, gifted and well-educated, became a favorite at the French
court, and well-beloved of the French king. So it was, that once, in the
tangled history of the time, he succeeded in getting some concessions
from the French that were most advantageous to the English.
"London and the court there was so pleased with young Hugh that they
bestowed on him and his descendants forever the privilege of assisting
at the coronation of English kings." His voice was excited and nervous
as he finished the sentence.
"You understand what I am saying?" The old man looked at Dr. Prescott
intently. Then he shook his head.
"Perhaps I don't make myself quite clear," he added. "The simple fact
is," he explained further, "that Mrs. Sherwood's inheritance carried
with it the right to assist at the present coronation! Moreover, her
great uncle, Hugh Blake, who got his name from the old line, specified
to those of us who were his friends, that young Nan, if she seemed to us
to be worthy, should be the one to carry on! That is why we wanted her
to come. That is why the villagers were so anxious to see her. And that
is why," he lowered his voice now, "I was fearful of her safety out
there this night."
"You mean there is some opposition?" Dr. Prescott asked when she found
her voice after this amazing story had been told.
"Yes, on the part of one or two," the old man admitted, "who think, and
wrongly so, that if some means can be found to prevent Nan's taking part
at the crowning this spring, they will be able to prove their right to
carry on when the court of claims, where such things are argued before
the king's representatives, meets a few days hence in London."
"Does Mrs. Sherwood know of all of this?" Dr. Prescott asked further.
"Not yet. This portion of the inheritance was bestowed under the terms
of another will which was put in my keeping by Hugh Blake. The Edinburgh
solicitors who handled the estate for Mrs. Sherwood when she and her
husband were here, know this story I have told you, however. Even now,
they are awaiting word from me as to how to proceed. They are anxious,
too, for Nan to come. Tonight, with your consent," he continued, "I will
send off a cable to America, explaining the circumstances. We will not
proceed until we hear from Nancy's parents."
Somewhere in the large rooms of the old castle a clock now chimed
slowly, one, two, three.
Dr. Prescott looked at her watch. "Will you be so kind," she said as she
arose from her chair, "as to wait and send that cable in the morning?
What you have told me here tonight has come so unexpectedly that I'd
like an hour or two to think it over before communicating with Nan's
parents."
"You don't object," James Blake seemed startled at the mere thought, "to
Nan's taking part in the coronation?"
"None whatsoever," Dr. Prescott hastened to assure him. "It will be a
great privilege and honor indeed, doubly so, because she is an American
girl."
"Aye, that has been some of the cause for trouble," he said, "with the
people hereabouts. They didn't want the honor to go across the seas. But
Nancy's mother, when she came over to take possession of the estate
quite won the heart of everyone. Now Nancy has done the same. There will
be no more trouble of that sort," he promised, "and no more trouble of
any kind, if I can help it." He finished the sentence belligerently.
His own fighting mood brought back to Dr. Prescott's mind the accident
in the carriage.
"Do you know at all what happened tonight?" she asked.
"You mean what caused the accident?" he parried, for here was something
he did not want to talk about as yet.
"Yes."
"I am not certain as yet," he admitted half the truth, "but if you will
have faith in an old man and leave your question rest for a few hours,"
he was very serious as he spoke, "I will answer it later. There is no
need for you to worry," he concluded. With this he walked with her over
to the stairway and watched her as she went up.
Alone in the hall now, he rang a bell and called for the servant who
had been left with the carriage.