_Lady Elizabeth does not know the Marquis
de Richemont_
Before he could answer, an order came for the prisoner to be brought
forward. After ascending a flight of worn stone steps and going
through a long dark passage, a great door was thrown open at its end,
and he was confronted by a blaze of light which dazzled him at first,
until, his eyes becoming accustomed to the illumination, he realized
that he stood on the threshold of a splendid hall in the old keep,
which had possibly once been the banqueting hall of the castle. Long
lancet windows upon one side, their leaded frames filled with rich
painted glass, looked out upon the sea, whose waves beating
ceaselessly upon the bluff below filled the room with a subdued murmur
like a strain of hushed and vibrant music, such was the elevation of
the tower.
The room was massively and splendidly furnished with heavy antique
furniture. The stone walls were covered with hangings of rich old
tapestry from the famous looms of Arras. Here and there were portraits
of distinguished members of the Westbrooke family,--women renowned for
their lustrous beauty, or men who, holding the castle at different
times, had made their names famous by their bravery and skill. The
prisoner's feet sank into a thick, soft, luxurious carpet stretched
upon the stone flags of the old floor.
Writing at a large table standing near the centre of the room and
covered with candelabra, sat a bewigged old man of commanding presence
dressed in a naval uniform covered with orders and stars bespeaking
high rank. Farther away, with her back turned to the light, and to the
door by which he had entered, a young woman sat, apparently reading
intently. One glance at the graceful curve of her neck and the
exquisite poise of her head told him it was she. Forgetful of
everything else, he would have stepped forward, had it not been for
the restraining hand of the sergeant.
"The prisoner, m' Lud," said the latter, saluting.
The admiral continued his writing a moment, and then looking up fixed
his eyes keenly upon the young man. His first glance told him that he
had to deal with no ordinary prisoner. He rose at once and bowed with
the courtesy of a finished gentleman.
"Have the goodness to step forward, sir, and be seated," he said,
pointing to the chair. "Sergeant, remain on guard where you are."
With an equally low bow to the older man, O'Neill took a few steps in
his direction and sat down on the indicated chair in front of the
admiral, facing him and the woman beyond, who, still intent upon her
book or lost in thought, had not yet noticed his entrance. Prisoners,
in fact, being every-day occurrences at the castle in these troublous
times, they had ceased to interest her; still the unusual complaisance
of the old man, as expressed by his voice and manner, attracted her
attention; she looked up from the book without turning her head, and
listened.
"I am sorry to subject you to any annoyance, sir," continued the
admiral, "but the rules are very strict, and I must abide by my own
regulations. We apprehend a descent upon our coast by the notorious
pirate, John Paul Jones--" O'Neill started violently and bit his lip,
but said nothing--"and it is my duty to take unusual precautions,"
added the speaker. "I must ask your name, your station, and business
here."
"I am the--" said O'Neill, quietly, but with his glance fixed on the
powdered head showing over the chair-back opposite him.
There was a commotion at the other side of the table. Lady Elizabeth
sprang to her feet with a hurried exclamation, dropped her book to the
floor, and then turned quickly, and stepped toward the other two.
O'Neill and the admiral both rose at the same time.
She was _en grande tenue_, her hair rolled high and powdered, jewels
sparkling about the snowy throat, which rose from the pale blue silk
of her corsage.
"It is--" she cried.
"The Marquis de Richemont, at your service, mademoiselle," O'Neill
interrupted quickly, bowing low before her, fearing lest in her
surprise she would betray him.
"Good heavens, Elizabeth! what is the meaning of this? Do you know
this man?" asked the admiral, in great astonishment.
"Every traveller," smilingly interrupted O'Neill, suavely, striving to
give Elizabeth time to collect herself, with the appearance of the
greatest _sangfroid_ himself, though his heart was beating so rapidly
he could scarce maintain his composure, "on these islands has heard of
the beauty of Lady Elizabeth Howard. Her reputation as a woman of
charm has even extended to the continent whence I come. It was in the
hope of having the privilege of seeing her that I walked up toward the
castle this evening. I have not the honor of her acquaintance,
monsieur."
"Do you know this man, Elizabeth?" persisted the admiral, sternly, his
suspicions aroused by her actions.
There was evidently some mystery about his coming, and the girl was
quick to see that to proclaim O'Neill's name and occupation would
probably place him in an embarrassing position, to say the least. She
recovered herself by a great effort, and turning away languidly,
remarked with well-assumed carelessness,--
"I? Certainly not, sir. I have never heard of the Marquis de Richemont
before in my life." The statement was absolutely correct, the
Irishman's rank having been kept strictly in abeyance. O'Neill
shrugged his shoulders and extended his hands in confirmation of her
words.
"Why that cry, then, and your surprise, madam?" questioned the still
unconvinced admiral.
"I know not, sir; I must have been dreaming, and the sound of a
strange voice startled me."
"Beg pardon, m' Lud," said the sergeant, saluting; "yer Worship, he
axed if Lady Elizabeth Howard lived 'ere, wen he was down in the
courtyard."
"Silence, sirrah!" thundered the old admiral, who allowed no one to
entertain doubts of his ward but himself. "Do you mean to imply that
Lady Elizabeth has knowledge of this gentleman?"
"Oh, sergeant!" said the girl, clasping her hands and looking at the
old veteran with all the fascination of which she was capable.
"No, yer Ludship, no, sir. O' course not; certainly not, yer Honor,"
returned the man, in great confusion. "I spoke by way o' showin'
that's wot he come for."
"It was in pursuance of my desire to see so great a beauty that I
asked the question, monsieur."
"Sir, your admiration does me too much honor," said Elizabeth,
courtesying.
"I make up for the fact that your reputation does your Ladyship too
little, then, mademoiselle," he answered.
"Enough of this," said the admiral, impatiently. "The girl is well
enough; but you didn't come here to look at her, did you?"
"On my honor as a gentleman, monsieur, for no other purpose."
"Well, give some account of yourself otherwise, and perhaps if it be
satisfactory, as you have accomplished that purpose, I may send you on
your way rejoicing," said the admiral, amused at the extravagance of
the young man.
"No man could leave the presence of Lady Elizabeth Howard rejoicing,
sir."
"Damnation, sir!" cried the governor, testily, "are you going to
stand here and bandy compliments about all day like a French
dancing-master?"
"I have nothing further to urge for my words, my Lord, when my excuse
stands in your very presence."
The governor looked at the two young people in great perplexity.
"I fear, my dear Marquis de Richemont," said he ironically, "unless
you can give some more coherent account of yourself, I shall be under
the painful necessity of having you locked up, in which case the only
divinity you will be allowed to gaze upon will be the lovely face and
figure of yonder sergeant."
"Yes, yer Ludship, I--" remarked the sergeant, grimacing.
"Silence, sirrah!" thundered the admiral.
"My Lord," answered O'Neill, smiling, "it is very simple. I am an
officer in the navy of the King of France, making a tour of England
for pleasure. I came here to this town this evening. I hear of the
great admiral, Lord Westbrooke, in his great castle, and the beauty of
his ward, Lady Elizabeth Howard. I am a lover of the beautiful. I
stand on the causeway gazing at the castle. Your soldiers arrest me
and bring me here. I rejoice to find Lady Elizabeth more beautiful
than I have dreamed. A year and a half have only intensified her
charms."
"A year and a half! Dreams, sir! What mean you by that, pray? What
have the years to do with the matter? Did you see her a year and a
half since?" cried the admiral, suspiciously again.
O'Neill started; it was a fatal slip, but he hastened to repair it as
best he could.
"I have seen her picture, sir."
"And where, pray, have you seen her picture?"
"In the possession of an English officer, a friend of mine whom I met
at Liverpool a year and a half ago," answered O'Neill, audaciously.
"And who was this English officer, pray, who displayed my picture?"
interrupted Elizabeth, with an appearance of great agitation.
"Major Edward Coventry, mademoiselle."
"Oh, Edward! Why, God bless me," said the admiral, genially, "he is my
son. Do you mean to tell me you are a friend of his? Why didn't you
say so before?"
"I had the honor of his acquaintance," said O'Neill, bowing gravely,
"on one very interesting and memorable occasion indeed, when he was on
duty at the Château Birkenhead, I believe."
"Yes, that would be about a year and a half ago. Sir, in that case you
are very welcome to this castle," said the admiral, "and now I beg
leave to present you in due and proper form to my ward. Lady Elizabeth
Howard, permit me to introduce to you the Marquis de Richemont."
"I am charmed to have the pleasure of meeting the marquis," responded
the girl, smiling and courtesying deeply.
"The pleasure and the honor are mine, mademoiselle," responded
O'Neill, fully entering upon the comedy of the moment.
"And," continued the admiral, "as my son, Major Edward Coventry, has
sent me word he will be here shortly, you can renew your acquaintance
with him."
It was as if he had exploded a bomb-shell in the room.
"Edward! Coming here?" cried Elizabeth, her voice filled with terror
at the unfortunate event, which she vainly endeavored to conceal.
"What for? Why did you not tell me?"
"He desired to surprise you, my dear," answered the admiral, wondering
again at her agitation; "you know your wedding takes place next week."
"Ah, a wedding!" said O'Neill, starting and looking at Elizabeth.
"Mademoiselle is then to marry?"
"Yes, your friend Major Coventry," replied the old man,--"an old
engagement."
"I refused to marry him for a year, and for six months more. I waited
all that time. There was no word," she said slowly to O'Neill, as if
each word were wrung from her by his intent look, her pale cheeks
flooded with color.
"Have you taken leave of your senses, Elizabeth?" continued the
admiral, in great surprise; "of what interest to a stranger is
your--er--maidenly hesitation?"
"Anything which concerns so fair a lady is of deep interest to your
humble servant," answered O'Neill, ironically and bitterly. The comedy
had gone, tragedy, as ever, following hard upon it.
A door at the rear of the room was opened softly at this moment; and a
young man in the brilliant scarlet uniform of a British officer,
entered and stepped lightly toward them. His glance fell first upon
the speaker.
"Barry O'Neill, by heaven!" he exclaimed, springing eagerly forward
with outstretched hand. "How came you here?" For a moment the young
soldier was oblivious of the presence of his father and his betrothed.
His untimely entrance filled the room with apprehension and dismay.