A GLEAM OF LIGHT.
Kate Harston fled as quickly as she could through the wood, stumbling
over the brambles and crashing through the briars, regardless of pain or
scratches or anything else which could stand between her and the
possibility of safety. She soon gained the shed and managed to mount on
to the top of it by the aid of the barrel. Craning her neck, she could
see the long dusty lane, with the bare withered hedges upon either side,
and the dreary line of the railway embankment beyond. There was no
pony-carriage in sight.
She hardly expected that there would be, for she had taken a short cut,
and the carriage would have to go some distance round. The road along
which it was travelling ran at right angles to the one which she was now
overlooking, and the chances were equal as to whether the lady would
turn round or go straight on. In the latter case, it would not be
possible for her to attract her attention. Her heart seemed to stand
still with anxiety as she peered over the high wall at the spot where
the two roads crossed.
Presently she heard the rattle of wheels, and the brown pony trotted
round the corner. The carriage drew up at the end of the lane, and the
driver seemed to be uncertain how to proceed. Then she shook the reins,
and the pony lumbered on along the road. Kate gave a cry of despair and
the last ray of hope died away from her heart.
It chanced, however, that the page in the carriage was just at that
happy age when the senses are keen and on the alert. He heard the cry,
and glancing round he saw through a break in the hedge that a lady was
looking over the wall which skirted the lane they had passed.
He mentioned the fact to his mistress.
"Maybe we'd better go back, ma'am," he said.
"Maybe we'd better not, John," said the buxom lady. "People can look
over their garden walls without our interfering with them, can't they?"
"Yes, ma'am, but she was a-hollerin' at us."
"No, John, was she though? Maybe this is a private road and we have no
right to be on it."
"She gave a holler as if some one was a-hurtin' of her," said John with
decision.
"Then we'll go back," said the lady, and turned the pony round.
Hence it came about that just as Kate was descending with a sad heart
from her post of observation, she was electrified to see the brown pony
reappear and come trotting round the curve of the lane, with a rapidity
which was altogether foreign to that quadruped's usual habits.
Indeed, the girl turned so very white at the sight, and her face assumed
such an expression of relief and delight, that the lady who was
approaching saw at once that it was no common matter which had caused
her to summon them.
"What is it, my dear?" she cried, pulling up when she came abreast of
the place. Her good, kind heart was touched already by the pleading
expression upon the girl's sweet face.
"Oh, madam, whoever you may be," said Kate, in a low, rapid voice,
"I believe God has sent you here this day. I am shut up in these
grounds, and shall be murdered unless help comes."
"Be murdered!" cried the lady in the pony-carriage, dropping back in her
seat and raising her hands in astonishment.
"It is only too true," Kate said, trying to speak concisely and clearly
so as to enforce conviction, but feeling a choking sensation about her
throat, as though an hysterical attack were impending. "My guardian has
shut me up here for some weeks, and I firmly believe that he will never
let me out alive. Oh, don't, pray don't think me mad! I am as sane as
you are, though, God knows, what I have gone through has been enough to
shake my reason."
This last appeal of Kate's was in answer to an expression of incredulity
and doubt which had passed over the face of the lady below. It was
successful in its object, for the ring of truth with which she spoke and
the look of anxiety and terror upon her face were too genuine to be
mistaken. The lady drew her rein so as to bring the carriage as near
the wall as was possible without losing sight of Kate's face.
"My dear," she said, "you may safely tell me everything. Whatever I can
do to help you shall be done, and where I am powerless there are others
who are my friends and may be of assistance. Scully is my name--
Mrs. Lavinia Scully, of London. Don't cry, my poor girl, but tell me
all about it, and let us see how we can put matters right."
Thus encouraged, Kate wiped away the tears which had been brought to her
eyes by the unwonted sound of a friendly voice. Leaning forward as far
as she could, and preventing herself from falling by passing her arm
round a great branch which shot across the top of the shed, she gave in
as few words as she could a detailed account of all that had befallen
her. She described her guardian's anxiety that she should marry his
son, her refusal, their sudden departure from London, their life at the
Priory, the manner in which she was cut off from all human aid, and the
reasons which made her believe that an attempt would be made upon her
life. In conclusion, she narrated the scene which had occurred that
very morning, when her guardian had tempted her to commit suicide. The
only incident which she omitted from her story was that which had
occurred the night before, for she felt that it might put too severe a
tax upon Mrs. Scully's credulity. Indeed, looking back at it, she
almost persuaded herself that the sight which she had seen might be some
phantom conjured up by her own imagination, weakened as she was in mind
and in body.
Having concluded her narrative, she wound up by imploring her new-found
friend to assist her by letting her friends in London know what had
become of her and where she was. Mrs. Scully listened with a face which
expressed alternately the most profound pity and the most burning
indignation. When Kate had finished, she sat silent for a minute or
more entirely absorbed in her own thoughts. She switched her whip up
and down viciously, and her usually placid countenance assumed an
expression so fierce that Kate, looking down at her, feared that she had
given her offence. When she looked up at last, however, she smiled so
pleasantly that the poor girl was reassured, and felt instinctively that
she had really found a true and effective friend at last.
"We must act promptly," she said, "for we don't know what they may be
about, or what their plans are for the future. Who did you say your
friends were?"
"Dr. Dimsdale, of Phillimore Gardens, Kensington."
"Hasn't he got a grown-up son?"
"Yes," said Kate, with a slight flush on her pale cheeks.
"Ah!" cried the good lady, with a very roguish smile. "I see how the
land lies. Of course, of course, why shouldn't it? I remember hearing
about that young man. I have heard about the Girdlestones also.
African merchants they were in the City. You see I know all about you."
"You know Tom?" Kate cried in astonishment.
"Oh, don't let us get talking of Tom," said Mrs. Scully
good-humouredly. "When girls get on a subject of that sort there's an
end to everything. What I want now is business. In the first place I
shall drive down to Bedsworth, and I shall send to London."
"God bless you!" ejaculated Kate.
"But not to Phillimore Gardens. Hot-headed young men do foolish things
under such circumstances as these. This is a case that wants careful
management. I know a gentleman in London who is just the man, and who I
know would be only too proud to help a lady in distress. He is a
retired officer, and his name is Major Clutterbuck--Major Tobias
Clutterbuck."
"Oh, I know him very well, and I have heard of you, too," said Kate,
with a smile. "I remember your name now in connection with his."
It was Mrs. Scully's turn to blush now. "Never mind that," she said.
"I can trust the major, and I know he will be down here at a word from
me. I shall let him have the facts, and he can tell the Dimsdales if he
thinks it best. Good-bye, dear; don't be unhappy any more, but remember
that you have friends outside who will very quickly set all right.
Good-bye!" and waving her hand in encouragement, the good widow woke up
the pony, which had fallen fast asleep, and rattled away down the lane
in the direction from which she had come.