by Andrew Lang
CHAPTER IX
WHEREIN THE CHIVALROUS MR. KELLY BEHAVES WITH DEPLORABLE FOLLY
Mr. Kelly did not drive very straight perhaps, but to be sure he hadthe streets entirely to himself, and he certainly hit upon Queen'sSquare. The house was unknown to him, and he drove through the squarebefore he found it.
It made an angle at the south corner, and was conspicuous for a solidfamily air, and a fine new statue of Queen Anne. Level windows of adistinguished respectability looked you over with indifference andsaid, 'Here's a house you'll take off your hat to, if you please.''Faith, but those windows must have shuddered in their sashes whenthey saw the Parson driving Madam home at five o'clock of the morningfrom a masquerade ball. A sleepy footman opened the door; a no lesssleepy maid yawned in the hall. However, they both waked up to somepurpose when Mr. Kelly jumped down from the box, bade the footman takethe carriage round to the stables, called the maid to attend uponMadam, and himself opened the carriage door. He opened it quickly witha thought that Madam might very likely have removed her mask, for hewas not so tipsy but that he was curious to know who it was that hehad befriended. Madam, however, had done nothing of the kind.
'Is my lady ill?' asked the maid, hurrying forward. So Madam was awoman of title.
'A trifle discomposed, no doubt,' answered Kelly.
My lady said nothing whatever. It seemed she was unwilling to speak inthe feigned voice before her maid, and in the natural voice before Mr.Kelly. She took his arm, and, leaning on it somewhat heavily, yetwalked with a firm enough step into the hall, as Mr. Kelly could notbut remark.
The maid threw open a door on the right. It gave into a little cheeryroom with a wainscot of polished oak, and a fire blazing on thehearth. My lady did not release Mr. Kelly's arm, and they both stoodin front of the fire, and no doubt found the warmth comfortable enoughafter the chill of the morning. Her ladyship, indeed, went so far asto untie the strings of her domino, and make as though she would turnit back upon her shoulders. But with a glance at Mr. Kelly, shechanged her mind, and hugged it somewhat closer over her dress thanbefore.
'Were you at the masquerade, Mr. Johnson?' she asked in a low voice.
Mr. Kelly took the movement and the words together, and set them downas mere coquetry. Now, coquetry to Kelly at that time was a challenge,and it was contrary to his principles of honour to remain under such aprovocation from man or woman. So he answered:
'Indeed, your ladyship, I was, to my eternal happiness. I shall dreamof blue satin for a month to come.'
Her ladyship hitched her domino a little tighter still about her neck,and quickly tied the strings again, but made no other reply to hissally. The action, while it inflamed his curiosity, put him intosomething of a quandary. Was it but another piece of coquetry, heasked himself, or did she indeed wish to hinder him from discoveringwho she was? He could answer neither question, but he feltconstrained, at all events, to offer to take her concealment as a hintthat he should depart. It seemed a pity, for the adventure promisedwell.
'Your ladyship,' he said, and at that she gave a start and glanced athim, 'for so I understand from your maid I may address you,' he added,'it grows late, the world is getting on to its legs, and your ladyshiphas had an eventful night.'
He took a step backwards and bowed.
'No,' said she, in a sharp quick voice, and put out a hand to detainhim. Then she stopped as quickly, and drew in her hand again.
Mr. Kelly had borne himself very prettily in the little affair with M.de Strasbourg. Madam, in fact, was in the typical attitude of woman.She knew it was inconvenient to keep him, but for the life of her shecould not let him go, wherefore she found a woman's way out of thetrouble. For she staggered on her legs, and fainted to all appearanceclean away, leaving matters to take their own course and shift forthemselves. She fainted, of course, towards Mr. Kelly, who caught herin his arms and set her in an arm-chair. The maid, who all this whilehad been standing in the doorway, smiled. 'I will run to herladyship's dressing-room for the salts,' she said, and so went out ofthe room, carefully closing the door behind her. Kelly kneeled by thelady's side, and taking up her fan, sought to waft her that way backinto the world. She did not stir so much as a muscle, but lay allhuddled up in her domino and mask. Mr. Kelly leaned over her, and sobecame aware of a penetrating perfume which breathed out from herdress. The perfume was bergamot.
Kelly dropped the fan and sat back on his heel. The maid had calledher 'my lady,' and bergamot was Lady Oxford's favourite perfume. Whatif it was Lady Oxford he had unwittingly rescued! The possibilitycaught his breath away. If that were only true, he thought, why, hehad done her some slight service, and straightway a great rush oftenderness came upon him, which went some way to sober him. In aminute, however, he dropped into despondency; for Lord Oxford's housewas in the northern part of the town, as he knew, though he had neveras yet been there, and neither the footman nor the maid were of herladyship's household. Yet, if by some miracle the lady might beSmilinda! She was of the right height. Mr. Kelly looked at her,seeking vainly to trace out the form hidden under the folds of thedomino. But if it were Smilinda, then Smilinda had swooned.
Mr. Kelly woke to this conclusion with a start of alarm. He clappedhis hand into his pocket, pulled out his snuff-box, opened it quickly,and held it close beneath her ladyship's nose. The effect of the snuffwas purely magical, for before she could have inhaled one grain ofit--before, indeed, Mr. Kelly's box was within a foot of her face, upwent her hands to the tie-strings of her mask.
So the swoon was counterfeit.
'Madam,' said Kelly, 'you interpret my desires to a nicety. It is yourface I would see, but I did not dream of removing your mask. I did butoffer to revive you with a pinch of snuff.'
She took the box from his hand, but not to inhale the macawba.
'It is for your own sake, Mr. Johnson, that I do not unmask. 'Tis likethat I am a fright, and did you see my face you would take me for apale ghost.'
'Madam,' said Kelly, 'I am not afraid of ghosts, nor apt to take yourladyship for one of those same airy appearances. A ghost! No,' hecried, surveying her. 'An angel! It is only the angels in Heaven thatwear blue satin petticoats.'
The lady laughed, and checked the laugh, aware that a laugh betrayswhere a voice does not.
'Ghost or angel,' she said,' a being of my sex would fain see herselfbefore she is seen. 'Tis a mirror I seek.' She was still holding Mr.Kelly's snuff-box. It was open and within the lid a littlelooking-glass was set; and as she spoke she turned away and bent overit with a motion as if she was about to lift her mask.
'Nay,' said Kelly abruptly; he stretched out his hand towards thesnuff-box. 'The glass will be unfaithful, for the snuff has tarnishedit. Madam, I beseech you, unloose that mask and turn your face to meand consult a truer mirror, your servant's eyes.' He spoke, perhaps,with a trifle more of agitation than the occasion seemed to warrant.Madam did indeed turn her face to Mr. Kelly, but it was in surprise athis agitation, and the mask still hid her face. Mr. Kelly could see nomore than a pair of eyes blazing bright and black through the eyeletholes.
'You are gallant, I find, as well as brave,' she said, 'unless someother cause prompted the words.'
'What cause, madam? You wrong me.'
'Why,' said she, 'you still hold out your hand.' Mr. Kelly drew itaway quickly. 'Ah,' she continued, 'I am right. There was a reason.You would not have me examine your snuff-box too closely.'
In that she was right, for the snuff-box was at once the dearest andthe most dangerous of Mr. Kelly's possessions. It was a pretty toy ingold and tortoiseshell, with brilliants on the hinges, and had beengiven to Mr. Kelly on a certain occasion when he had been presented tohis king at Avignon. For that reason, and for another, he was mightilyloth to let it out of his possession. What that other reason was Madamvery soon discovered.
'It is a dangerous toy,' she said. 'It has perhaps a secret to tell?'
'Madam, has not y
our mask?' returned Kelly.
'There is a mystery behind the mirror.'
'Well, then, it's mystery for mystery.'
For all that he spoke lightly he was in some uneasiness. For the ladymight not be Smilinda, and her fingers played deftly about the settingof the mirror, touching a stone here and there. To be sure she woregloves, and was the less likely therefore to touch the spring. Butgive her time enough--however, at that moment Kelly heard the maid'sfootsteps in the hall. He stepped to the door at once and opened it.
'You have the salts?' he asked. 'You have been the deuce of a timefinding them.'
The maid stared at him.
'But her ladyship fainted,' she argued.
'Well,' said he, 'wasn't that why you went for the salts?'
'To be sure,' says she. ''Twas an order to go for the salts.'
She pushed open the door. My lady was still fingering the box. Themaid paid no attention to the box, but she looked at my lady's mask;from the mask she looked towards Kelly with a shrug of the shoulders,which said 'Zany' as plain as writing.
Kelly had no thoughts to spare for the maid.
'Madam,' he said, 'here is your maid, to whose attentions I may leaveyou.'
He advanced, made a bow, took up his hat, held out his hand for hissnuff-box.
'But I cannot let you go,' she answered, 'without I thank you'--allthe time she was running her fingers here and there for the spring.Kelly noticed, too, with some anxiety, that while he had gone to thedoor she had made use of the occasion to strip off her glove--'andthank you fitly, as I should have done ere this. But the trouble I wasin has made me backward.'
'Nay, madam,' said Kelly impatiently, and taking a step nearer, 'thereis no need for thanks. No man could have done less.'
Her ladyship's fingers travelled faster in their vain attempt.
'But you risked your life!' said she in admiration.
'It is worth very little,' said he with a touch of disdain; 'and,madam, I keep you from your bed.'
The maid turned her eyes up to the ceiling, and then Madam by chancepressed on a diamond which loosed a hidden spring; the glass in thesnuff-box flew down and showed a painting of the Chevalier inminiature.
'Oh!' cried my lady with a start in which, perhaps, there was a traceof affectation. Then she turned to the maid and bade her bring somewine and glasses. She spoke quickly, now forgetting for the moment todisguise her voice. Mr. Kelly recognized it with absolute certainty.The voice was Smilinda's.
The maid went out of the door. Kelly looked at the lady, and seeingthat she was seemingly engrossed in the contemplation of the littlepicture, stole after the maid.
'Betty!' he called in a whisper.
'Sir? 'she asked, coming to a stop.
He took a crown from his pocket, spun it in the air, and caught it.
'The Margout,' said he, 'will doubtless be more difficult to discoverthan the salts,' he suggested.
'It might indeed be necessary to go down to the cellar,' she repliedreadily.
'And that would take time,' said Kelly, handing her the crown.
'It would take an entire crown's worth,' said the maid, pocketing thecoin.
Kelly slipped back into the room.
The lady seemed not to have noticed Mr. Kelly's absence, so fondly didshe study the portrait; but none the less, no sooner had he closed thedoor than she cried out, not by any means to him but in a sort ofecstasy, '_Le Roi!_' Then she hid the snuff-box suddenly and glancedwith a shudder round the room. The panic was altogether misplaced,since there could be no other person in the room except the owner ofthe box, who, if her ladyship was guilty for admiring, was tenthousand times more so for possessing it.
She caught with her hand at her heart when she perceived Mr. Kelly,then her eyes smiled from out of her mask, as though in the extremityof her alarm she had forgotten who he was, and so fell back in herchair with an air of languor, breathing deep and quick.
'Upon my word, I fear, Mr. Johnson,' she said, 'that if I have escapedone danger by your help I have fallen into another. You seem to me tobe a man of dangerous company.'
'Indeed I find it so when I am with you, madam, since you discover mysecrets and show me nothing of your own,' replied Kelly.
The maid it appears, had no less perversity than her mistress, forprecisely at this moment she rapped on the door, and without waitingfor any answer sharply entered the room, bearing the wine and glasseson a salver. There was a distance of three yards between Kelly and herladyship. The maid measured the distance with her eyes, and her faceshowed some disappointment. Her ladyship dismissed her, filled boththe glasses and took one in her hand. Mr. Kelly drained the other, andthe bumper carried off the remnant of his brains.
'You run no danger from my knowing your secret, Mr. Johnson,' saidshe, 'for--'
Breaking off her sentence, she turned her head aside, swiftly pushedup her mask and kissed the portrait in the box, stooping her fragranthair over it. Mr. Kelly, speeded by the wine, was this time too quickfor her ladyship. Before she could raise her face he had paid the samecompliment to her lips as she to his Majesty. She lifted her head witha bewitching air of anger.
'Lady Oxford!' he cried out as if in amazement, since he had bottomedthe mystery for now some time. 'Forgive me, madam, if my hasty loyaltyto my Sovereign prevented me from recognising his latest adherent. TheCause must now infallibly triumph.'
'Sir,' she began, looking up at him with her eyes melting from angerto reproach, 'your apology is something graceless. For though mycolour be gone'--it was only the worse or artificial part of hermatchless complexion which the mask had rubbed off--'you yet had timeto know and respect a face you--'and then she came suddenly to a stop,as she untied the strings of her domino and threw it back from hershoulders. 'You blame me,' she said pitifully. Her ladyship was aready woman, and even went more than half-way to meet an attack. AtBrampton Bryan the talk had been of duty and the charms of a rusticlife; but here the dutiful country wife, violently disarrayed in theextreme of fashion, had been alone to a masquerade ball and Mr. Kellymight conceive himself tricked. And so 'You blame me,' she said, 'youblame me even as you blamed me at Brampton Bryan, and with no morejustice.'
'At Brampton Bryan!' exclaimed Kelly suddenly.
'M. de Strasbourg! M. de Strasbourg was Scrope.'
Her ladyship nodded.
'And 'twas he attacked _you_--would have carried you off.'
Her ladyship shivered.
'And I let him go. Curse me! I let him go even as Nick did. But thethird time! Oh, only let the third time come.'
Her ladyship shook her head with the most weariful resignation.
'It will come too late, that third time,' she said; 'too late for me.I have no husband who can protect me, and no friend so kind as toserve me in his place.'
'Nay, madam,' cried Kelly, instantly softened by the lonely picturewhich her words called up in his mind. She was transfigured all atonce into Una, Andromeda, Ariadne, or any other young woman of greatbeauty and virtue who has ever been left desolate to face a wintryworld. 'Believe me, you have one friend whose only aspiration is toserve you with his life-blood. 'Faith, madam, had you but shown meyour face when first I came to the door of your carriage, I wouldnever have let M. de Strasbourg run away until I had offered you hissmoking heart on the point of my sword.'
Her ladyship gave the Parson to understand that she had gone to theball on the King's service. Had his brain been of its customarysobriety the adventure would doubtless have surprised him more than itdid. He might have questioned the nature of the service which took herladyship to the masquerade. But she had sufficient art to tell himnothing and persuade him that she told all. Moreover, he had othermatters to engage him.
There is no need to extend more particularly the old story of a youngman's folly with a woman of Lady Oxford's kind. She had sought to hidewho she was, she said, because she dared not trust herself; and thefact that she was not living in her own house, which was beingrepaired, but in one that she had
borrowed, with the servants, from afriend who had gone to the Bath, seemed to make her intentionpossible. But Heaven had been against her. Mr. Kelly was readilybeguiled into the sincere opinion that she had fought against herpassion, but that her weakness and his transcendent bravery, of whichshe would by no means allow him to make light, had proved her ruin. Itwas all in a word set down to gratitude, which was a great virtue, shesuggested. Love, indeed, was just the charge of powder which wouldhave never flashed--no never--had not gratitude served as a flint andthrown off the spark.
Well, Mr. Kelly walked home in the dawning of a new day and paintedhis thoughts with the colours of the sky. For weeks thereafter heseemed in his folly to tread on air; and no doubt he had more thanordinary warrant for his folly. He had a fortune safely lodged withMr. Child, the goldsmith; his mistress was no less fair than sheshowed fond; and so fond she was that she could not bring herself tochide the coachman who was discovered the next morning drunk withdrugged wine at a tavern near the Haymarket, whither one of Scrope'shirelings had lured him. Mr. Kelly was prosperous in the three greatgames of life, love, and politics. For he was wholly trusted by theBishop, by Lord Oxford and the rest; he took his place in the worldand went and came from France with hanging matter in his valise. Thevalise weighed all the lighter for the thought that he was now servingLady Oxford as well as the King. She was at this time always in hisdreams. His passion indeed was in these days extreme, a devouring firein brain and marrow. He believed her a most loyal conspirator, and, ofcourse, all that he knew came to her ladyship's ears. But his bliss inthe affection of Lady Oxford quite blinded him to danger, and heseemed to himself to walk invisible, as though he had the secret offernseed.
For a season, then, Mr. Kelly was the happy fool, and if the seasonwas short--why, is it ever long? Mr. Wogan is not indeed sure that theParson has got altogether out of her ladyship's debt, in spite of whathappened afterwards. For when the real morning broke and the true lovecame to him, troubles followed apace upon its coming. It is somethingto have been a happy fool, if only for a season and though thehappiness ended with the folly.
