Dr Challen's permission at last, and after many formal, courteous
thanks, Sir Murray Gernon had come over to the Hall to fetch his child.
"You will often come over and see us," whispered Isa, as she clung to
Mrs Norton; and then she trembled as she saw the tear in her hostess's
face and the slight shake of her head.
"Come, Isa!" exclaimed Sir Murray, almost harshly; for the sight of the
affectionate parting was bitterness to him.
At the same moment Lord Maudlaine, hitherto an unnoticed member of the
party, had advanced to hand Isa to the carriage.
"The Castle has been like a dungeon ever since you left us," he
whispered; and Mrs Norton noted the parting of his lips. She also
observed, too, that Isa did not touch his hand, but stepped unaided into
the carriage; and the mother's heart gave a throb of joy. But only for
an instant: the gleam of sunshine that had seemed in those trifles to
shine forth for her son was shrouded directly after by the clouds of the
past, and she re-entered the house, tearful and sad, as the sound of the
departing carriage seemed to fade away in the distance.
For the house seemed sad now and desolate. It was as though a sweet
spirit that had pervaded the place had passed away; and it was only by
an effort that she composed herself so as to write to Captain Norton,
and inform him that there was no longer need for his absence.
There were no long conversations between Mr and Mrs Norton on the
former's return to Merland Hall; but they read each others thoughts, and
avoided all reference to their son's acts. At times Captain Norton was
for expostulating with Brace, but he always came to the conclusion that
matters must take their course, and that he would leave all speaking to
his wife, trusting to her to point out to Brace the folly of his hopes,
and then looking forward to the time for his return to sea, when, long
before the cruise had come to an end, Isa Gernon would, without doubt,
have become Lady Maudlaine.
Brace, upon his return, was restless and excitable; his father ready to
plunge into business to drown his thoughts; while the mother anxiously
watched the actions of her son, longing, in her indulgent love, to
whisper hope, but feeling all the while that it was a thing she dared
not attempt.
The second day after his return home, Brace's heart sank, as, turning
into a lane, he came suddenly upon Isa, side by side with Lord
Maudlaine. They were mounted, and a groom rode at a short distance
behind. He already knew by rumour that Isa was supposed to be engaged
to the Viscount, and, bitter and angry, his hand was raised to his hat,
in order to pass with a cold salute; but Brace's resentment was in an
instant disarmed, for Isa reined in her horse, and with a quiet, earnest
smile, held out her hand, which he took in his for a moment, and then,
with her companion, she was gone.
A couple of days of mingled hope and fear passed before he encountered
her again, when Brace Norton's brow flushed and his pulses beat rapidly,
for Isa was alone, save that a groom followed at a distance, with
difficulty restraining his highly-bred steed, while his mistress's
little jennet gently ambled along.
It was to both like a dream, that meeting; as, walking slowly beside her
horse, his hand resting upon the saddle, Brace listened to Isa's
faltered thanks, turning from time to time to gaze in the sweet, gentle
face bent towards him--a face whose eyes met his with a soft, trusting
look, that made his heart swell within his breast, till a rapid step
from behind told of an intruder, and Lord Maudlaine made his appearance;
when, with a sigh of regret, Isa held out her hand to be taken by Brace,
who retained it within his own, while he unflinchingly encountered the
fierce, haughty look of contempt and pride cast upon him by the
Viscount.
The next minute Isa had withdrawn her hand, and, attended by Lord
Maudlaine, gone towards the park, leaving Brace, as he strolled slowly
home, to recall a score of things which he wished to have said.
Another meeting, and once more Brace was walking with her side by side,
the hand which held her little whip not being withdrawn when he laid
upon it his own, to stand at last gazing up in her face, and peering
into her soft, sad eyes.
He tried to speak twice, but the words did not come; but he felt that
time was passing, and with an effort he broke the silence.
"Isa," he said, in deep, earnest tones, "I am going to be very bold. I
have a question to ask--one whose answer shall make me happy, or send me
wretched away. That gentleman--Lord Maudlaine--you know what rumour
says: is the rumour true?"
She returned his gaze for a few moments by one as earnest, and in that
brief space she saw once more the scene in the marsh--felt, too, the icy
water, and the chill as of coming death stealing over her, even while
those brave arms held her so tightly; and, as she thought on, it seemed
to her that the life he had won from the black pit should by right be
his; and her look, as she gazed on unflinchingly in his face, was even,
though abstracted, loving, trusting enough to have sent him away at
peace. It was an answer to his question; but not yet content, he
whispered, softly: "Isa--dear Isa, may I, then, hope?" "Miss Gernon,
Sir Murray has requested me to see you back in safety," said a harsh
voice at their side; and, on turning, Brace became aware of the presence
of Lord Maudlaine, who must have approached upon the grass by which the
lane was bordered for his coming to have been unperceived. "Sir Murray
understands," continued the Viscount, "that you are often encountered
during your rides, and thinks it better that you should not be alone."
"And, pray, who was his informant?" exclaimed Brace, fiercely.
"I was," said his lordship, in cold, meaning tones. "If you have any
more to say you know my address."
Brace Norton felt that he had, indeed, much more to say, but a glance at
Isa Gernon's troubled face restrained him, and in silence he allowed
them to pass away; but not without his seeing that Lord Maudlaine was
talking earnestly to what seemed unwilling ears.
The next day, after a sleepless night, Brace Norton rode over to the
Castle, sent in his card, and asked to see Sir Murray Gernon.
In five minutes the answer came back that Sir Murray Gernon was engaged.
Feeling the slight deeply, but all the same nothing daunted, Brace
called again and again, nerved by his strong, honest love, and
determined to avow boldly that love, so as not to be accused of
clandestine acts. Had he gained an interview, he would have earnestly
pleaded his cause with the father, and have asked his sanction; but it
was evident to Brace from the very first that Sir Murray would not see
him, so he wrote a long appealing letter, the blood burning in his
cheeks as he indited each line, asking favour towards his suit, but not
with shame--his love was too honest for that.
Restless and impatient, Brace Norton awaited the reply, till he seemed
almost in a state of fever. Both Captain and Mrs Norton knew the
cause, but they were silent from the impression that it would be better
for their son to find out for himself the hopelessness of his suit. Now
Brace thought that the letter had miscarried, and wrote another, but
paused before sending it, as he recalled the short space of time that
had elapsed since the first was written.
But at last came Sir Murray's answer, written in a cool, formal,
gentlemanly spirit, exceedingly courteous, but with every sentence
bearing a cold, despairing feeling to Brace Norton's heart as it
requested that he, as an officer and a gentleman, would refrain from
seeking further intimacy with Sir Murray Gernon's family. Intercourse
even of the most formal nature was quite out of the question. In
conclusion, Sir Murray thanked Mr Norton for the services he had
rendered to his family, and left it to Mr Brace Norton's good sense to
see that no further advances could be countenanced. Did Mr Brace
Norton wish to know more--always supposing him ignorant, as his
behaviour led Sir Murray Gernon to imagine--Mrs Norton would doubtless
supply certain links, such as would show to her son the truth of Sir
Murray's assertion--that intercourse between the families was out of the
question.
Every word of that letter was so much molten misery, so much bitterness,
that Brace Norton felt himself forced to drain to the dregs. He had no
occasion to refer to his mother for confirmation of Sir Murray's words;
and yet why could not reconciliation come? Despair was his answer, and
he hurried out to walk for hours, seeking the spots where he had
encountered her, when at last he saw her riding slowly along a lane,
followed at some little distance by Lord Maudlaine.
For a few moments Brace stood irresolute. What should he do? Resign
himself to his fate, and, waiting what time would bring forth, be
patient? Had Isa been alone, perhaps he might have so acted; but there
was the suitor favoured by the father dodging her like a shadow, and he
smiled as he thought of the madness of waiting, when, as to what time
would bring forth, there was the answer in the shape of the Viscount.
It was of no avail: the heart, he told himself, was ungovernable; and,
forgetting Sir Murray's letter and all else in his love, he strode
forward, and the next minute was at Isa's side.
Book 2, Chapter XIII.
"ONE-TWO!"
It is said that money has little to do with love. Be that as it may,
the more often Lord Maudlaine's thoughts reverted to his friend Mr
Braham, the more he increased his attentions to Isa Gernon. At first he
attributed her indifference and coolness to the innate shyness of a
young girl who had passed the greater part of her life in absolute
retirement; thinking, too, that as Sir Murray had all along shown
himself in favour of the connection, all he had to do was to go on
quietly for a few months, when the day would be fixed, the wedding take
place, and he, possessed of the handsome dowry brought by his wife in
exchange for an empty title, would be free from the unpleasant visits
and reminders of his money-lending acquaintances.
But of late matters had assumed an aspect that troubled him. This
appearance of, to him, an entirely new character upon the stage, was a
something for which he had not bargained. At first it was too
ridiculous; the idea was preposterous that a young naval lieutenant
should compete with him--should come between his nobility and the object
upon which he had set his choice: he--Lord Maudlaine--son of an Earl,
with the said Earl's coronet looming for him in no very distant part of
the future's horizon.
But there was the mishap in the marsh. Deuced unfortunate thing, you
know. It wouldn't have mattered if it had been himself, and he had
dived in after her; but for this impertinent fellow to be on the marsh,
and run and jump in after Miss Gernon, it was too bad, you know--a deal
too bad--and he couldn't stand much more of it.
"Horsewhip him!" said Sir Murray, with a fierce snarl, when, after a
good deal of circumlocution, his lordship complained of the coolness of
his intended, and her frequent encounters with Brace Norton.
"But--a--a don't you think--wouldn't it be better if you spoke to her
upon the subject--forbade her, you know, to see him any more?" said his
lordship.
"Horsewhip him, I tell you!" snarled Sir Murray. "Or, would your
lordship like to wake up some morning to the fact that she had disgraced
us by a foolish escapade--gone off, for instance, with this vagabond?"
said Sir Murray, fiercely.
"No! By Jove, no!" exclaimed the Viscount, turning pale at the very
thought, and suffering from incipient symptoms of Braham on the brain.
"Because," said Sir Murray, giving an involuntary shudder, as he thought
of the past--"because any anger on my part, any undue influence, would
militate against your prospects--drive her, as it were, into the
scoundrel's arms!"
"Don't put it in that light, please," said his lordship, faintly.
"You are young, strong, and active," continued Sir Murray. "Pay more
attention to her; and, as for this man, if he will not take notice of
the letter I have sent him, horsewhip him--shoot him, if needs be; for
he is a cowardly hound, the son of a coward father!"
Sir Murray Gernon's eyes flashed, and his dark face grew darker, as he
angrily hissed the latter words, before turning with clenched teeth, and
walking up and down hastily.
"Think he is?" said the Viscount, in a low voice.
"Think!" echoed the baronet, with a world of scorn in his utterance of
that one word.
"I won't stand any more of his nonsense, then!" exclaimed his lordship,
nodding very fiercely. "It's quite time it was stopped, and I'll stop
it!"
Sir Murray gave him a short, sharp look--half assent, half contempt--and
then turned upon his heel, leaving his proposed son-in-law alone.
"What a savage bear he grows!" muttered his lordship, as soon as he was
alone; but the next instant his harsh opinion was softened down by the
recollection of Sir Murray's wealth; and he stood gazing for an instant
from the open window over the lake at the line stretch of park land,
with its noble timber, and recalled the last quiet conversation he had
had with the baronet, when he was requested--in words which told most
plainly of the owners intentions--not to cut down any of the timber, nor
yet to drain the lake.
Five minutes after, his lordship walked into the drawing-rooms, and went
through the whole suite, expecting every moment to see Isa reading on
some lounge; but she was not there. He then walked into the breakfast
and dining-rooms, the conservatory, and Lady Gernon's boudoir, ending by
taking a turn in the garden; but Isa was still invisible.
"Seen Miss Gernon?" he said at last to the major-domo, whom he
encountered in the hall.
"Me young lady went oot for her morning ride a gude half-hoor ago, my
lord," said McCray; when, taking a hunting-crop from a stand close by,
his lordship walked hurriedly away.
"Jenny, my gude lassie," said the old Scot, as he entered the
housekeeper's room some five minutes after, when returning from watching
his lordship across the lawn--"Jenny, my gude lassie, here's the auld
coorse of true love rinning rougher than iver, and our wee pet bairn, I
fear, going to be made unhappy. The ways of the world are very crooked,
and I canna help thinking it wondrous strange that young Norton should
be thrown in our darling's way as he is. I'm pitying him, too, lassie,
for he's a bra'e lad, and my heart wairmed to him for the way he saved
the child; and he puts me in mind, too, of ane Alexander McCray twenty
year agane, whose heart was sair as this laddie's is, I ken. But it all
came reet for mine, Jenny. Will it come reet for the Nortons' boy?"
The housekeeper shook her head.
"What's to be done, lassie?"
"Nothing," said Jane his wife, quietly, but with a sad look; "these
things are beyond us, McCray, and must take their course."
"I'll put a stop to it, that I will!" muttered Lord Maudlaine, as he
strode off across the lawn, and disappeared from McCray's sight. "Only
let me see him hanging after her again!"
If his lordship's wish to see Brace Norton with Isa Gernon again were
genuine, his gratification was quick in coming; for, at the end of half
an hour's sharp walk, he caught sight of Isa and Brace almost at the
same moment--just; in fact, as the latter hurried up, so as to reach the
young girl before his favoured rival.
"Shall I horsewhip him before her, or shall I wait till he comes away?"
muttered his lordship. "He didn't take any notice of what I said last
time, though I half thought that I should have heard from him."
His lordship stood irresolute for a few moments, but the way in which
Brace was received forced him into action, and he strode past the groom,
who stood at a respectful distance, and up to the pair.
"Look here, you!" he exclaimed to Brace, coarsely. "This sort of thing
won't do! You've been told that you're not to follow Miss Gernon about.
Do you hear?"
"Isa," said Brace, in a whisper to the trembling girl, "will you ride
on?"
"No," she answered, in the same tone, as she bent down towards him.
"Please--my first request--for my sake, Mr Norton, do not let there be
any quarrel."
"I will do my best to avoid it," said Brace, with a quiet, re-assuring
smile; when, apparently enraged by the understanding which appeared to
exist, but really nerved thereto by the words let fall that morning by
Sir Murray, Lord Maudlaine strode fiercely in front of Brace, who,
however, stood coolly and unflinchingly before him.
"Look here!" exclaimed his lordship. "Once more I say this sort of
thing won't do! Are you listening to what I say?"
"Yes," said Brace, quietly. "I am listening."
"Then, look here: you've been warned times enough, and I shall put up
with no more of it! Now go; and I warn you that if ever again you dare
to speak to Miss Gernon, or to intrude upon her with your insolent
attentions, I'll--I'll--I'll horsewhip you!"
These last words seemed to be forced from him by an effort; when, pale
with anger at being so addressed in the presence of Isa, Brace took a
step towards the Viscount, with his fists clenched, and his teeth set
upon his upper lip. But at that instant, when a collision seemed
imminent, an ejaculation of fear took Brace again to Isa's side.
"Do not be afraid," he whispered, with the anger fading out of his
countenance. "Forgive me for my thoughtless passion." He laid his hand
upon hers, pressing it upon the pommel of the saddle, as he gazed up in
her face. "This is rather hard to bear; but I will try."
"Confound you! are words of no use whatever?" exclaimed his lordship
angrily. And at the same moment the hunting-crop was raised, whistled
through the air, and descended heavily upon Brace Norton's shoulders,
causing him to start as if stung by some venomous reptile.
That which followed seemed to take place in an instant, for as Lord
Maudlaine's hand was raised to repeat the blow, something darted through
the air, striking him full upon the cheek, and he rolled over in the
dusty road, felled by a blow that would have shaken the equanimity of a
bullock.
"You dog--you cowardly miscreant!" hissed Brace between his teeth, as,
beside himself with passion, he stood with clenched fists over his
fallen adversary, till, recalling his promise, he once more hurried to
the side of the trembling girl.
"I forgot myself," he exclaimed, hastily; "I thought that I had more
self-control." Then seeing the working features and agitation the
fracas had caused, he added, hastily: "Dear Isa, I know I deserve your
anger--your contempt; but I have only one excuse to offer: it was
something new to me, and evoked passion of whose existence I was in
ignorance."
Isa could not speak; but as she listened to his pleading words, poor
girl!--perhaps she was very weak and foolish--she thought that she had
never seen Brace Norton look so brave and handsome before, and her eyes
betokened more love than anger as they returned the young man's gaze.
Meanwhile, foaming with rage, and covered with the chalky dust in which
he had involuntarily rolled, Lord Maudlaine stood, looking anything but
a hero, as the dismounted groom grinned to himself and dusted his
master's guest, rubbing him down with a gorgeous orange-and-white silk
handkerchief, all hot from out of his livery; but polishing away, and
accompanying the task with the hissing noise generally accorded to
horses.
His lordship did not speak, but turned his back upon the group; and but
for sundry recollections of his embarrassments which at the present
moment intruded themselves painfully upon him, it is most probable that
my lord the Viscount and prospective Earl and peer of the realm, would
have hurriedly taken his departure from the neighbourhood of Merland.
As it was, he submitted to the cleansing process so liberally bestowed
upon him by the groom. Then, holding his handkerchief to his cheek, he
turned to face Norton, to find that he was already a hundred yards off,
walking by the side of Isa's mare; and soon after they disappeared at a
turn of the road.
"Curse him!" exclaimed his lordship, with a fierce and bitter
imprecation.
"Ketched yer unaweers, my lord, didn't he?" said the groom, who, with
his bridle over his arm, still kept up his hissing and rubbing process.
"If you'd ha' throwed up your left arm sharp, my lord, and then let go
with your right, I don't know but what you might ha stopped him, and
planted one for yourself. But per'aps, arter all, it was very doubtful,
for that was as sharp a cutter as ever I did see."
His lordship did not seem to heed the friendly counsel, for, turning
upon his heel, he strode hastily away in the opposite direction to that
taken by Isa Gernon, muttering angrily, and evidently smarting with
pain.
"I'm blest if I don't think," muttered Peter, the groom, as he slowly
inducted a foot to its stirrup, and then lazily threw a leg over the
horse's back, and began to put on his gloves--"I'm blest if I don't
think as the higher yer gets up in serciety, the shabbier yer grows.
Now, if that 'ere had been, say, a working man, or a lab'rer, and I'd
set him upon his pins, and rubbed him down, he'd per'aps not ha' said,
`Here's the price of a pint, mate,' but he'd ha' stood a pint, safe; and
if it had been a plain gent, such as that young Squire Norton, he'd ha'
give a shilling, per'aps 'arf a crown, or one o' them duffing two-bob
bits; but as for my fine lord here, he don't so much as say thanky, let
alone show you the colour of his money; while, getting up higher still,
if it had been a Juke, blow me if I don't think he'd ha' kicked me for
what I did. Well, just as they like, and it's all one a hundred years
to come. All I can say, though, is, as it served his grand lordship
jolly well right, and it was as neat and prettily-planted a blow as ever
I did see put in. One--two! one--two! one--two! that was about it," he
continued; as, tucking his whip under his saddle-flap, and laying the
reins upon the pommel, he began to square with his fists in imitation of
the blow he had seen delivered. "He's learned the noble art of
self-defence, safe. One--two! one--two! one--two! Hold up, will yer!"
he shouted, for in his excitement he had rammed one spur against his
horse's side, and the poor animal had plunged sharply so as to nearly
unseat his rider, who now gathered up his reins, and cantered after his
mistress.
He had not ridden far before he came upon Brace Norton, apparently
watching for him, in the middle of the road, and ready to slip a
crown-piece into his hand.
"I think, my man," said Brace, quietly, "that it would be as well if the
little unpleasantly you saw between Lord Maudlaine and me were not
talked about up there at the Castle."
"Dumb as a jockey, sir," said the groom, striking himself over the mouth
as he spoke; "but--you won't be affronted, sir?"
"Affronted!--no. What is it?" said Brace, smiling.
"If you'd--if you'd take that crown back, sir--" hesitated the man.
"Take it back? Nonsense! Keep it, my lad."
"And just show me how to give that blow, sir. 'Pon my word, sir, I'd
rather know that than have half-a-dozen crowns. I never did see such a
settler!"
Brace laughed, and strode on hurriedly, shaking his head.
"Ride on, my man," he said. "Your mistress is a long way ahead."
"That's true enough," said the groom to himself, as he looked after the
retiring figure; "but he put him down just like a sack o' chaff, that he
did; and my lord didn't like it, neither. I'm blest!" he exclaimed,
slapping his thigh, and checking his horse suddenly. "Don't say nothing
up at the Castle, which I won't; but if there don't come coffee and
pistols out of this job, I'm a Dutchman!"
Book 2, Chapter XIV.