CHAPTER XII.

A PETITION.

"'Then we are to lose Madame la Comtesse, but I hope only for a few

hours,' I said, with a low bow.

"'It may be that only, or it may be a few weeks. It was very unlucky his

speaking to me just now as he did. Do you now know me?'

"I assured her I did not.

"'You shall know me,' she said, 'but not at present. We are older and

better friends than, perhaps, you suspect. I cannot yet declare myself.

I shall in three weeks pass your beautiful schloss, about which I have

been making enquiries. I shall then look in upon you for an hour or two,

and renew a friendship which I never think of without a thousand

pleasant recollections. This moment a piece of news has reached me like

a thunderbolt. I must set out now, and travel by a devious route, nearly

a hundred miles, with all the dispatch I can possibly make. My

perplexities multiply. I am only deterred by the compulsory reserve I

practise as to my name from making a very singular request of you. My

poor child has not quite recovered her strength. Her horse fell with

her, at a hunt which she had ridden out to witness, her nerves have not

yet recovered the shock, and our physician says that she must on no

account exert herself for some time to come. We came here, in

consequence, by very easy stages--hardly six leagues a day. I must now

travel day and night, on a mission of life and death--a mission the

critical and momentous nature of which I shall be able to explain to you

when we meet, as I hope we shall, in a few weeks, without the necessity

of any concealment.'

"She went on to make her petition, and it was in the tone of a person

from whom such a request amounted to conferring, rather than seeking a

favour. This was only in manner, and, as it seemed, quite unconsciously.

Than the terms in which it was expressed, nothing could be more

deprecatory. It was simply that I would consent to take charge of her

daughter during her absence.

"This was, all things considered, a strange, not to say, an audacious

request. She in some sort disarmed me, by stating and admitting

everything that could be urged against it, and throwing herself entirely

upon my chivalry. At the same moment, by a fatality that seems to have

predetermined all that happened, my poor child came to my side, and, in

an undertone, besought me to invite her new friend, Millarca, to pay us

a visit. She had just been sounding her, and thought, if her mamma would

allow her, she would like it extremely.

"At another time I should have told her to wait a little, until, at

least, we knew who they were. But I had not a moment to think in. The

two ladies assailed me together, and I must confess the refined and

beautiful face of the young lady, about which there was something

extremely engaging, as well as the elegance and fire of high birth,

determined me; and, quite overpowered, I submitted, and undertook, too

easily, the care of the young lady, whom her mother called Millarca.

"The Countess beckoned to her daughter, who listened with grave

attention while she told her, in general terms, how suddenly and

peremptorily she had been summoned, and also of the arrangement she had

made for her under my care, adding that I was one of her earliest and

most valued friends.

"I made, of course, such speeches as the case seemed to call for, and

found myself, on reflection, in a position which I did not half like.

"The gentleman in black returned, and very ceremoniously conducted the

lady from the room.

"The demeanour of this gentleman was such as to impress me with the

conviction that the Countess was a lady of very much more importance

than her modest title alone might have led me to assume.

"Her last charge to me was that no attempt was to be made to learn more

about her than I might have already guessed, until her return. Our

distinguished host, whose guest she was, knew her reasons.

"'But here,' she said, 'neither I nor my daughter could safely remain

for more than a day. I removed my mask imprudently for a moment, about

an hour ago, and, too late, I fancied you saw me. So I resolved to seek

an opportunity of talking a little to you. Had I found that you _had_

seen me, I should have thrown myself on your high sense of honour to

keep my secret for some weeks. As it is, I am satisfied that you did not

see me; but if you now _suspect_, or, on reflection, _should_ suspect,

who I am, I commit myself, in like manner, entirely to your honour. My

daughter will observe the same secresy, and I well know that you will,

from time to time, remind her, lest she should thoughtlessly disclose

it.'

"She whispered a few words to her daughter, kissed her hurriedly twice,

and went away, accompanied by the pale gentleman in black, and

disappeared in the crowd.

"'In the next room,' said Millarca, 'there is a window that looks upon

the hall door. I should like to see the last of mamma, and to kiss my

hand to her.'

"We assented, of course, and accompanied her to the window. We looked

out, and saw a handsome old-fashioned carriage, with a troop of couriers

and footmen. We saw the slim figure of the pale gentleman in black, as

he held a thick velvet cloak, and placed it about her shoulders and

threw the hood over her head. She nodded to him, and just touched his

hand with hers. He bowed low repeatedly as the door closed, and the

carriage began to move.

"'She is gone,' said Millarca, with a sigh.

"'She is gone,' I repeated to myself, for the first time--in the hurried

moments that had elapsed since my consent--reflecting upon the folly of

my act.

"'She did not look up,' said the young lady, plaintively.

"'The Countess had taken off her mask, perhaps, and did not care to show

her face,' I said; 'and she could not know that you were in the window.'

"She sighed, and looked in my face. She was so beautiful that I

relented. I was sorry I had for a moment repented of my hospitality, and

I determined to make her amends for the unavowed churlishness of my

reception.

"The young lady, replacing her mask, joined my ward in persuading me to

return to the grounds, where the concert was soon to be renewed. We did

so, and walked up and down the terrace that lies under the castle

windows. Millarca became very intimate with us, and amused us with

lively descriptions and stories of most of the great people whom we saw

upon the terrace. I liked her more and more every minute. Her gossip,

without being ill-natured, was extremely diverting to me, who had been

so long out of the great world. I thought what life she would give to

our sometimes lonely evenings at home.

"This ball was not over until the morning sun had almost reached the

horizon. It pleased the Grand Duke to dance till then, so loyal people

could not go away, or think of bed.

"We had just got through a crowded saloon, when my ward asked me what

had become of Millarca. I thought she had been by her side, and she

fancied she was by mine. The fact was, we had lost her.

"All my efforts to find her were vain. I feared that she had mistaken,

in the confusion of a momentary separation from us, other people for her

new friends, and had, possibly, pursued and lost them in the extensive

grounds which were thrown open to us.

"Now, in its full force, I recognised a new folly in my having

undertaken the charge of a young lady without so much as knowing her

name; and fettered as I was by promises, of the reasons for imposing

which I knew nothing, I could not even point my inquiries by saying that

the missing young lady was the daughter of the Countess who had taken

her departure a few hours before.

"Morning broke. It was clear daylight before I gave up my search. It was

not till near two o'clock next day that we heard anything of my missing

charge.

"At about that time a servant knocked at my niece's door, to say that he

had been earnestly requested by a young lady, who appeared to be in

great distress, to make out where she could find the General Baron

Spielsdorf and the young lady his daughter, in whose charge she had been

left by her mother.

"There could be no doubt, notwithstanding the slight inaccuracy, that

our young friend had turned up; and so she had. Would to heaven we had

lost her!

"She told my poor child a story to account for her having failed to

recover us for so long. Very late, she said, she had got to the

housekeeper's bedroom in despair of finding us, and had then fallen into

a deep sleep which, long as it was, had hardly sufficed to recruit her

strength after the fatigues of the ball.

"That day Millarca came home with us. I was only too happy, after all,

to have secured so charming a companion for my dear girl."

In a Glass Darkly, v. 3/3 · 第 12 / 16 章