It seemed an age before the house was quiet, and all lights put out.
Dominica sent her sleepy tirewoman away as soon as she came up from the
ball. The woman made little resistance, she could hardly keep her eyes
open, and was glad to be sent back to bed. Dominica let her unlace her
gown, and put away her jewels. She put on a loose wrapper, and laid
another log on the fire. As ill-luck would have it her aunt came in to
bid her good-night, and stayed to talk over the ball. She professed
herself thankful that the affair was over; it had been very dull, she
thought, and the Chevalier de Guise was the only relief she had had
from utter boredom. Dominica, very much on her guard, stifled a yawn,
and allowed the Chevalier to be well enough.
"Do not lose your heart to him, my dear," remarked her aunt lazily.
"Frenchmen are sadly fickle, and I believe this one is betrothed
already."
"Yes, so he said," Dominica answered. An imp of malice prompted her to
add:--"So my cousin need not be jealous of him, señora."
"Diego is too much in love with you to forbear jealousy of any man who
looks twice at you," said Doña Beatrice, a hint of cynicism in her
voice.
"Or is he in love with my money?" asked Dominica sweetly.
"Very much, my dear. We all are." Nothing, it seemed, could disturb
Doña Beatrice's composure. She got up out of her chair, and tapped
her niece's cheek. "No more of this seclusion, child. You will show
yourself abroad a little, and remember that we shall soon leave this
tiresome town for a little quiet and peace."
Dominica's eyes were cast down, but the breath was stayed in her
throat. "Very well, señora," she said submissively. "But do we leave
Madrid indeed?"
"Shortly, my dear. We shall go north to Vasconosa as soon as may be,
and we will hope that Diego in the country will like you better than
Diego in town."
Dominica dropped a curtsy. "I don't think it, señora."
"No? But you can try to, my dear." Doña Beatrice went out with her slow
tread, and a minute later a door shut in the distance.
Dominica sat down by the fire to wait. Presently she heard her aunt's
tirewoman pass by her door to the stairs that led to the servants'
quarters above. Don Rodriguez, coming up from downstairs, called a
good-night to his son, and went into his room. But Don Diego must needs
go into his closet, and stay there for what seemed an interminable time
to his impatient cousin. At length he came out, and went across the
hall to his bedchamber. Dominica heard him speak sharply to his man,
and shut the door with a snap. There was silence for a while, and then
the same door opened and shut again: his servant had put Don Diego to
bed at last.
The man's footsteps died away on the stairs, and silence settled down
on the house. Still Dominica waited, counting the slow minutes. She
went presently to her door, and softly opened it. All was dark in the
passage. Holding her gown close about her that no rustle might betray
her presence she stole down the short corridor to the upper hall. A
bar of light beneath one of the doors showed that Don Diego was still
awake. Dominica stayed where she was, motionless against the wall. In a
few minutes the light disappeared. She crept back to her chamber, put
more wood upon the fire, and went to arrange her curls in the mirror.
When she judged that Don Diego had had time to fall asleep she went out
again into the passage, and this time took the precaution of listening
at her tirewoman's door. She heard a snore, and was satisfied,
knowing how very hard to wake was Carmelita. Flitting silently in her
stockinged feet she reached the hall, went ghost-like to three doors,
and at each listened intently. She must be sure, very sure, that the
whole house slept before she signalled to Beauvallet, for he came to
certain death if he should be discovered.
No sound reached her straining ears; she crept back to her room,
stealthily shut the door, and little by little turned the key in
the lock. It went home with a click that seemed to din through the
stillness. She stayed, breathing fast, her ear to the crack. No
answering stir sounded; nothing but the grating of a mouse nibbling at
the wainscoting somewhere down the passage.
She left the door then, and went to the window, and parted the heavy
curtains that hung over it. Holding her lamp in her hand she stepped
out on to the little semi-circular balcony.
Moonlight flooded the garden below, and the trees cast ink-black
shadows on the ground. From out the shadow a shadow moved; she saw
Beauvallet cross the garden, and raised her free hand in a little
welcoming sign. He was beneath her balcony now; she had to lean over
to see him. How he would contrive to climb up she did not know, but
that he would manage it somehow she was very sure.
He made surprisingly little work over it. A climbing rose gave him his
foothold. He came up swiftly and silently, braced a foot against the
iron pipe that ran down the side of the house from the rain-gutter,
seemed to measure the distance with his eye, and threw himself forward.
Dominica stretched out her hand involuntarily to help him, but he
caught the rail of the balcony, and the next instant had swung a leg
over it, and was beside her.
Neither spoke a word. Sir Nicholas had an arm about Dominica's waist,
and led her into the room, his other hand laid lightly across her
parted lips. She set the lamp down on the table while he closed the
long windows and drew the curtains over them.
He turned, a moment looked at her, and opened his arms. Dominica went
into them in a little run, and felt them close tightly about her.
"My heart! My dove!"
She could only say: "You have come! You have come! It is you, really
you!"
"Had you not my word?"
"How could I believe? How could I think that you would dare--even you?
Oh, _querida_, why have you come?" Her hands tugged at his shoulders,
"There's death lurking in every corner for you!"
"I have played many games with Death, fondling, but the dice always
fell my way. Trust me."
"Mad!" she whispered. "Mad Nicholas!"
He kissed her. For a while she was content to lie in his arms, but
presently she said on a sigh: "Folly, oh folly! I have brought you to
your death!"
"Nay, nay, I came of mine own free will, as I swore I would--to make an
Englishwoman of you." He made her look up. "How now, my heart? Will you
go with Mad Nicholas?"
She tried to hide her face. "It is not possible. You know it is not.
God knows how you are here, but you must go quickly, quickly! You could
never escape with me to burden you."
"Give me a plain answer, fondling. Will you go with me?"
She evaded him. "I have been so unhappy," she said pitifully.
"You shall never be so again, I swear." He held her away from him.
"Will you trust me further yet? Will you put your life in my hands?"
She looked up into his eyes, her own troubled and questioning. He had
taken her by storm; he was a lover from a fairy-tale, and she had
longed for him, and dreamed of him, but now that he spoke so urgently,
and looked so keenly, she realized all that it would mean to her if she
gave herself to him. He was a stranger and an Englishman, and if he won
out of Spain a strange land and a strange people awaited her. She loved
him, but how little she knew of him! A girl's fears shook her; she
looked searchingly, peering for the future, and the colour ebbed in her
cheeks. He awaited her answer; she thought how bright his eyes were,
how compelling.
"Nicholas--you could not understand," she faltered. "I am so alone. I
do not know----"
"I do understand," he answered instantly. "I love you. Trust me!"
Her fingers sought his. "You will be good to me?" she said in a small
voice.
He smiled. "I will never beat you," he promised.
At that she smiled too, but fleetingly. "Nay, do not jest, do not laugh
at me!" she said.
He raised her hands to his lips, and kissed them. "On my soul," he
said, "I've only the one ambition left; to care for you."
She nestled back into his arms. "If we could! If we only could!"
"What, doubting still?" he rallied her. "What do you fear, little faint
heart?"
"To lead you to your death," she said. "How can I not fear it?"
"Nay, nay, 'tis I shall do the leading," he smiled. "Have faith, O Lady
Disdain!"
"Not that!" she protested, but a smile trembled on her lips at the old
memories the name conjured up.
His arm was hard about her shoulders. "Do you love me?" he asked, and
his eyes compelled an answer from her.
She looked up. "Do you not know that I do--doubter?"
He swooped then, and kissed her almost before she was aware.
Holding her close still he asked her with the teasing note in his
voice:--"Shall I make an Englishwoman of you after all, my bird?"
She nodded. "Only take me away," she said. "Take me away from here!
Anywhere!"
For a moment he held her closely embraced, cheek to cheek. Then he let
her go, brought her to the fire, and made her sit down on the faldstool
before it. He stirred the smouldering log with his booted foot, and it
fell apart, and the flames sprang up. "Do they seek to wed you to that
pretty cousin of yours?" he asked abruptly.
"I hate him!" she said. "I have told my aunt I will never, never wed
with him, but she--Nicholas, you do not know her! She smiles, and nods,
and agrees with me, but she is like a rock! She frightens me, Nicholas.
She is so quiet, and it is like a fate pursuing one! Yes, I am afraid,
I!"
"No need," he said. "Remember I am near you, and take heart. Now how to
spirit you away?"
"How did you come?" she asked. "In the _Venture_--that fishing village?"
"Nay, over the border, openly, with letters to King Philip," he replied.
She gasped. "Are you a wizard, then? Tell me, how?"
"Very simply, child. My luck, no more. I fell in with a secret envoy to
the King, and him I slew perforce, and came on in his place. But to get
you to the coast is the problem now. It is a-many weary leagues, and
the hunt will be up then in right earnest. Barful, barful!"
She sat straight on the faldstool. "Nay, but listen, Señor Nicholas! We
leave Madrid soon now--I do not know when, but soon. Doña Beatrice told
me so to-night, and hoped I might like Diego better in the country than
I do here. We go north, to Vasconosa, near Burgos. I do not know when,
but Doña Beatrice would wish it to be soon."
"God 'ild her, then! What keeps her?"
"Diego, I think. Oh no, she does not care for him, but of what use
to take me into the country if he be not by? And he hath engagements
still, and will not go till they are done."
"Fiend seize the princox!" Beauvallet said. "North of Burgos? It will
serve, it will serve."
She looked eagerly up at him. "It is not more than a day and a night
from the coast, but they will watch me close. Can you do it, Nicholas?"
"Surely, surely, sweetheart. Have no fear. The _Venture_ will lie off
that port you wot of, and if the luck holds we may make it safely."
He went to the window, and drew back the curtain a little way. "It is
growing light, child. I must be gone." He came back to her, and took
her hands. "Leave me to find a way, chuck. Only let me have a sight of
you, and a word with you at need. I lie at the Rising Sun if you should
want me, and Joshua is with me to bear a message. I have been about
this town a little, but in no house do I meet you. You lie close, love."
"I would not go out. That's over now. I shall go with my aunt to Don
Alonso de Alepero's house on Monday. Will you be there?"
"I can arrange it," he said. "Expect to see me in this house as soon as
may be. This aunt of yours seems to have a fondness for me." He bent,
and kissed her hands. "Now fare thee well, my heart, and fear naught."
"Only for you," she said.
"Fear for me when you hear of my death," he smiled. "Not till then."
He held her close a moment. "Keep Diego at arm's length, my lass," he
said, twinkling, "or I might be tempted to out sword and thrust him
there."
"Oh, you must be prudent!" she said urgently. "Promise me! He hates you
already; he said to-night almost as much."
"God save his puppyhood!" said Sir Nicholas lightly. "Am I to be in a
sweat for fear of Master Puke-Stocking? We shall come to grips yet, he
and I. I can snuff out a fight with the best. He's hot for it." He bent
to kiss her lips. "A last good-night!"
She gave it, clinging to him. "You must go--yes, you must go. Oh, my
love, I love you!"