"At the house of Lady Danvers, say you? on the far edge of
Dorsetshire?" said the voice of an old man, tremulous, and eager with
strong passion.
"Yes, my dear lord," replied Robert Woodhall, "at Danvers's New
Church, a place where a strong-armed man could pitch a crown piece
into three counties. He has doubtless chosen that retreat, partly
because he fancies a warrant may be easily evaded, partly--"
"But are you sure, Robert--quite sure?" asked Lord Woodhall; "do not
let us make another mistake."
"I am quite sure," answered his young cousin; "I have the news from
three of our own people who have seen him there. You know my mother's
place lies at no great distance, and the whole country round rings
with the rumor that he is to be married to Lady Danvers--the cause,
probably, of his taking the life of a better man than himself."
"Married to the gallows first!" cried Lord Woodhall, vehemently. "Call
a servant, boy; bid him bring my hat and cloak. I will away to the
king. Monmouth lies about there, they say; he was last heard of
marching toward Exeter. Feversham and Churchill are after him, and the
troops may serve our purpose as well as the king's."
"Shall I attend you, sir?" said Robert.
"No, no," answered the old lord; "stay here till I come back. Go and
comfort poor Margaret. She bears up a little now, but still weeps
often. It will gladden her heart to hear that there is a chance of
catching her brother's murderer at last."
A slight, hardly perceptible smile curled upon Robert Woodhall's lip;
but, turning away to conceal the emotions of which he was conscious,
he called Lord Woodhall's servants to their master, and then saw him
deferentially to the door.
There are as great varieties in love as in any other passion; seldom
found altogether pure, it is mixed with a thousand various alloys,
some more, some less congenial to itself. Now it must not be supposed
that Robert Woodhall was altogether without love of a certain kind for
his fair cousin Margaret. True, it was of a coarse nature, even in its
very origin. Her beauty--her fresh, warm, healthful loveliness, had
its attractions for a man who, even before he could count manhood, had
sated himself with licentious pleasures. But even this baser sort of
love was mingled with many other feelings. Ambition had its share, and
avarice; and, strange to say, spite and revenge too. He saw that
Margaret did not love him; he felt intuitively that she would never
love him; but that conviction diminished not in the least the ardor of
his pursuit. It prompted a desire to pain, to grieve her, whenever he
could do so without appearing as the active agent, but took not the
least from the desire to possess her as his wife, nor shook his
resolution to attain that object by any means, however base.
Quietly walking up the stairs, he entered the room where she usually
sat during the morning, but found it vacant. He sat for a few minutes,
gazing forth from the window into the street, till the door opened,
and Margaret herself appeared. With a cold inclination of the head,
she was about to withdraw immediately. But her cousin called to her,
saying, "Margaret, Margaret, I have something to tell you from your
father. He wishes you to stay with me till his return, when he will
give you further tidings."
Margaret obeyed at once, entered, sat down, and drew an embroidery
frame toward her.
"Very satisfactory intelligence has been received this morning," said
Robert Woodhall, "which my lord, your father, has gone to make the
most of. We have discovered the place where poor Henry's murderer lies
concealed."
The tears rose in Margaret's beautiful eyes, but still she would not
hear Ralph called by such a name. "You have no right, sir," she said,
"so boldly to announce my cousin Ralph a murderer till he has been
proved so."
Robert Woodhall saw her emotion with infinite pleasure, but he
answered in a quiet tone, though with a slightly-curled lip, "I did
not know that there was any doubt of it."
"Great doubt," replied Margaret; "I, for one, do not believe that
Ralph would ever draw his sword against poor Henry; and there are
others, wiser, and better able to judge than myself, who do not
believe it either."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Robert Woodhall, with unfeigned surprise; "pray
who?"
"For one, the Duke of Norfolk," answered Margaret.
"You astonish me," said Robert, musing; "then pray whom do you and the
good duke suspect?"
There was something contemptuous and bitter in his tone, which kindled
a momentary anger in Margaret's breast, and she answered, "No one in
particular, Robert Woodhall; but we should suspect you just as soon as
poor Ralph. Pray where is he, if you have discovered?"
One of his slight, shrewd, sarcastic smiles came upon Robert
Woodhall's face; and he answered, "He is at Danvers's New Church, the
seat of the fair Hortensia, to whom he is about to be married, if the
hangman does not previously perform for him a ceremony of a different
kind."
"Unfeeling, heartless man!" exclaimed Margaret, rising, with her face
flushed, to quit the room; but Robert placed himself in her way,
saying, "Your father wishes you to stay here until he returns.--Why do
you call me unfeeling, Margaret? I did not intend to either offend or
grieve you."
Margaret returned and seated herself, but when he again asked the
question, she replied, "If my father wishes me to remain, I will
remain; but I remain not to converse with you, Robert Woodhall. I tell
you, I doubt you--nay, more, I do not believe you. More than once I
have detected you in saying things that were untrue; and I will now
know, as soon as my father returns, whether it was his wish or will
that I should remain with one whose society is unpleasant to me."
The pale, somewhat yellowish tinge of Robert Woodhall's face gave way
to burning red. He felt that he was understood--unmasked by a
woman--by a mere girl; and there is no offense so bitter to a villain
as to have his character unveiled.
"I will repay you," he thought, "I will repay you!" but, at the same
time, he would have given a good deal to have escaped from the room,
in order to meet Lord Woodhall ere he saw his daughter, and to guard
against the questions she might ask. He suffered some minutes to pass
however, for the purpose of covering his maneuver, but then rising, he
said, "Your father is longer than I expected. I fear I must go; I have
an engagement."
Grief is a great teacher of the human heart; and Margaret had learned
much since first she was presented to the reader. "Your pardon Robert
Woodhall," she said; "you stay here till my father returns. What you
have told me is either true or false. If it be true, you are bound to
remain with me, as I was commanded to remain with you--Nay, not a
word! Sit down, or I will call those who will make you."
She was nearer to the door than himself, and she moved toward it, and
laid her hand upon the latch.
Before Robert Woodhall could recover from his surprise, the voice of
the old lord sounded below, and the next moment his step was heard
upon the stairs. Margaret stood quietly by the door. Her cousin did
not venture to move; but few human hearts have felt the rage which
filled his at that moment. A minute after, Lord Woodhall entered the
room, and ere he could speak of any thing else, Margaret exclaimed,
with a boldness unusual with her, especially in speaking to her
parent, "My dear lord and father, this gentleman tells me that it was
your command I should remain here with him till you returned. I
beseech you tell me whether this is true or false; I do not believe
it."
"False!" cried the old lord, sharply; "I never said such a word. What
is the meaning of this, sir?"
"Only a little lover's artifice, my dear lord," replied Robert
Woodhall, with a pleasant smile; "I did but stretch your words a
little. You said I was to go and stay with her till you came back, and
I chose to read your meaning that she was to stay with me."
"Lover!" said Margaret, with a bitter emphasis, and was turning to
quit the room, when the old lord detained her by the hand, saying,
"Oh, is that all? Stay, stay, Margaret, this is no very unforgiveable
offense--stay! I have news for you."
"I hope good news, my lord," said Robert Woodhall. "The king, I trust,
has entered into your views?"
"As warmly as heart could wish," replied the old nobleman. "Feversham
has received his commands to order Colonel Kirke to occupy Danvers's
New Church with his regiment, and to arrest the fugitive. The object
is to be concealed, and the occupation of the house and village to
pass for a mere military operation till they have got the murderer in
their hands; otherwise he might escape us again, boy, in the troubled
state of the country."
"Your lordship calls him murderer," said Robert Woodhall, quietly,
eager to make mischief between the parent and the child, "but Mistress
Margaret objects to my use of that term, and says she does not believe
Ralph Woodhall committed the act."
"How is that--how is that?--not believe?" cried Lord Woodhall, turning
toward his daughter, and dropping her hand.
"The Duke of Norfolk does not believe it, my lord," replied Margaret;
"I received a letter from him this morning with the trinkets I left
behind me in my room at Norwich. He says that he has reason to believe
some great mistake has been committed, and that my cousin Ralph is
quite free from all participation in the deed."
"Who does he suspect, then?" demanded Lord Woodhall.
"I will bring you his letter, my father," replied Margaret, fixing her
eyes firmly upon the face of Robert Woodhall; "you will there see that
he suspects a very different person, and will comprehend why to remain
in that gentleman's society was most unpleasant to your daughter."
"What does he say--what does he say? No need of the letter just now,"
cried the impetuous old lord; "I can read that afterward: tell me the
substance of what he says."
"I have told you part, my father," replied Margaret; "but he adds that
it is clearly proved there was no quarrel between Ralph and poor
Henry, though there was between Ralph and Master Robert Woodhall. He
says they parted perfectly friends at supper; that they never met
afterward during the whole night; that no challenge was ever actually
delivered to Ralph; and that he has good reason to believe, from
circumstances which have lately come to his knowledge, that my cousin
never returned to Norwich after he himself had sent him away to escort
Lady Danvers on her journey. He says, indeed, that to have done so, in
the circumstances of which he is personally cognizant, implies almost
an impossibility. The duke adds," continued Margaret, with a voice
which trembled a little at the gravity of the words she was about to
utter, "that undoubtedly Robert Woodhall attempted to produce a
quarrel between Ralph and my poor brother; and he remarks that Henry's
death could be of no possible advantage to Ralph, but that it might be
to other persons."
Lord Woodhall glared round with a look of bewildered rage; but Robert
caught the ball at the rebound with great skill. "His grace of Norfolk
must think that you take a great interest, Mistress Margaret, in your
_poor_ cousin Ralph," he said; "but that is of no matter. Strange as
it may seem, my dear lord, I am very glad that this foolish suspicion
has been so plainly stated. An innocent man laughs at such things; he
does not run away from investigation. Indeed, did not the duke's
dislike of myself blind him, he could not fail to see how ridiculous
all this is. Henry's own letter to the duke himself, which you have
seen, shows that the challenge was given and accepted; and I can prove
easily, not only that I never quitted my room that night, but that I
did all in my power to dissuade Henry from the course that he was
following. He was headstrong, and would have his own way. My servant
can prove many of these facts. He is in the house; call him up and
examine him. I wish no previous interview with him; I have no lesson
to teach him."
The man was called; but he had already taught himself his own lesson;
and he mentioned those facts only, of all that occurred at Norwich,
which could show his master's character in the fairest light.
Lord Woodhall was quite satisfied, but Margaret was not. She had a
sort of instinct in this case, and it led her right.