A Reputed Changeling

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XXII: REVENANTS

  "But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!I'll cross it, though it blast me."

  Hamlet.

  Floods of tears were shed at the departure of the two young officersof sixteen and seventeen. The sobs of the household made theEnglish party feel very glad when it was over and the cavalcade wasin motion. A cavalcade it was, for each gentleman rode and so didhis body-servant, and each horse had a mounted groom. The two youngofficers had besides each two chargers, requiring a groom and horseboy, and each conducted half a dozen fresh troopers to join thearmy. A coach was the regulation mode of travelling for ladies, butboth the English girls had remonstrated so strongly that Madame deBellaise had consented to their riding, though she took them andSuzanne the first day's journey well beyond the ken of the Parisiansin her own carriage, as far as Senlis, where there was a freshparting with the two lads, fewer tears, and more counsel andencouragement, with many fond messages to her son, many to hersister in England, and with affectionate words to her niece awhisper to her to remember that she would not be in a Protestantcountry till she reached Holland or England.

  The last sight they had of the tall dignified figure of the old ladywas under the arch of the cathedral, where she was going to pray fortheir safety. Suzanne was to ride on a pillion behind the Swissvalet of Mr. Fellowes, whom Naomi had taken into her confidence, andthe two young ladies each mounted a stout pony. Mr. Fellowes hadmade friends with the Abbe Leblanc, who was of the old Gallicantype, by no means virulently set against Anglicanism, and also ahighly cultivated man, so that they had many subjects in common,besides the question of English Catholicity. The two young cousins,Ribaumont and D'Aubepine, were chiefly engaged in looking out forsport, setting their horses to race with one another, and the like,in which Charles Archfield sometimes took a share, but he usuallyrode with the two young ladies, and talked to them very pleasantlyof his travels in Italy, the pictures and antiquities which had madeinto an interesting reality the studies that he had hated when aboy, also the condition of the country he had seen with a mind whichseemed to have opened and enlarged with a sudden start beyond theinterests of the next fox-hunt or game at bowls. All were, as hehad predicted, greatly shocked at the aspect of the country throughwhich they passed: the meagre crops ripening for harvest, the hay-carts, sometimes drawn by an equally lean cow and woman, the haggardwomen bearing heavy burthens, and the ragged, barefooted childrenleading a wretched cow or goat to browse by the wayside, the gauntmen toiling at road-mending with their poor starved horses, or attheir seigneur's work, alike unpaid, even when drawn off from theirown harvests. And in the villages the only sound buildings were thechurch and presbytere by its side, the dwellings being miserablehovels, almost sunk into the earth, an old crone or two, marvels ofskinniness, spinning at the door, or younger women making lace, andnearly naked children rushing out to beg. Sometimes the pepper-boxturrets of a chateau could be seen among distant woods, or the wallsof a cloister, with a taper spire in the midst, among greenerfields; and the towns were approached through long handsome avenues,and their narrow streets had a greater look of prosperity, whiletheir inns, being on the way to the place of warfare, were almostluxurious, with a choice of dainty meats and good wines. Everywhereelse was misery, and Naomi said it was the vain endeavour to reformthe source of these grievances that had forced her father to becomean exile from his native country, and that he had much apprehendedthat the same blight might gradually be brought over his adoptedland, on which Charles stood up for the constitution, and for theresolute character of Englishmen, and Anne, as in duty bound, forthe good intentions of her godfather. Thus they argued, and Annenot only felt herself restored to the company of rational beings,but greatly admired Charles's sentiments and the ability with whichhe put them forward, and now and then the thought struck her, andwith a little twinge of pain of which she was ashamed, would NaomiDarpent be the healer of the wound nearly a year old, and find inhim consolation for the hero of her girlhood? Somehow there wouldbe a sense of disappointment in them both if so it were.

  At length the spires and towers of Douai came in sight, fenced in bystern lines of fortification according to the science of Vauban--smooth slopes of glacis, with the terrible muzzles of cannon peepingout on the summits of the ramparts, and the line of salient angleand ravelin with the moat around, beautiful though formidable. TheMarquis de Nidemerle had sent a young officer and sergeant's partyto meet the travellers several miles off, and bring themunquestioned through the outposts of the frontier town, so closelywatched in this time of war, and at about half a mile from the gateshe himself, with a few attendants, rode out all glittering andclanking in their splendid uniforms and accoutrements. He doffedhis hat with the heavy white plume, and bowed his greeting to theladies and clergymen, but both the young Frenchmen, after a militarysalute, hastily dismounted and knelt on one knee, while he sprangfrom his horse, and then, making the sign of the Cross over his son,raised him, and folding him in his arms pressed him to his breastand kissed him on each cheek, not without tears, then repeated thesame greeting with young D'Aubepine. He then kissed the hand of hisbelle cousine, whom, of course, he knew already, and bowed almost tothe ground on being presented to Mademoiselle Woodford, a littleless low to Monsieur Archfield, who was glad the embracing was notto be repeated, politely received Mr. Fellowes, and honoured thedomestic abbe with a kindly word and nod. The gradation wasamusing, and he was a magnificent figure, with his noble horse andgrand military dress, while his fine straight features, sunburntthough naturally fair, and his tall, powerful frame, well became hissurroundings--'a true white Ribaumont,' as Naomi said, as she lookedat the long fair hair drawn back and tied with ribbon. "He is justlike the portrait of our great-grandfather who was almost killed onthe S. Barthelemi!" However, Naomi had no more time to talk _of_him, for he rode by her side inquiring for his mother, wife, andchildren, but carefully doing the honours to the stranger lady andgentleman.

  Moat and drawbridge there were at Portsmouth, and a sentry at theentrance, but here there seemed endless guards, moats, bridges, andgates, and there was a continual presenting of arms andacknowledging of salutes as the commandant rode in with thetravellers. It was altogether a very new experience in life. Theywere lodged in the governor's quarters in the fortress, where theaccommodation for ladies was of the slenderest, and M. de Nidemerlemade many apologies, though he had evidently given up his ownsleeping chamber to the two ladies, who would have to squeeze intohis narrow camp-bed, with Suzanne on the floor, and the last was toremain there entirely, there being no woman with whom she could haveher meals. The ladies were invited to sup with the staff, andwould, as M. de Nidemerle assured them, be welcomed with thegreatest delight. So Naomi declared that they must make theirtoilette do as much justice as possible to their country; and thoughfull dress was not attainable, they did their best with ribbons andlaces, and the arrangement of her fair locks and Anne's brown ones,when Suzanne proved herself an adept; the ladies meantime finding nosmall amusement in the varieties of swords, pistols, spurs, andother accoutrements, for which the marquis had apologised, thoughNaomi told him that they were the fittest ornaments possible.

  "And my cousin Gaspard is a really good man," she said, indicatingto her friend the little shrine with holy-water stoup, ivorycrucifix, print of the Madonna, two or three devotional books, andthe miniatures of mother, wife, and children hung not far off; alsoof two young cavaliers, one of whom Naomi explained to be the youngfather whom Gaspard could not recollect, the other, that of theuncle Eustace, last Baron Walwyn and Ribaumont, of whom her ownmother talked with such passionate affection, and whose example hadalways been a guiding star to the young marquis.

  He came to their door to conduct them down to supper, giving his armto Miss Woodford as the greatest stranger, while Miss Darpent wasconducted by a resplendent ducal colonel. The supper-room was infestal guise, hung round with flags, and the table adorned withflowers; a band was playing, and never had either Anne or Na
omi beenmade so much of. All were eagerly talking, Charles especially so,and Anne thought, with a thrill, "Did he recollect that this was thevery anniversary of that terrible 1st of July?"

  It was a beautiful summer evening, and the supper taking place atfive o'clock there was a considerable time to spare afterwards, sothat M. de Nidemerle proposed to show the strangers the place, andthe view from the ramparts.

  "In my company you can see all well," he said, "but otherwise theremight be doubts and jealousies."

  He took them through the narrow Flemish streets of tall houses withprojecting upper stories, and showed them that seminary which waspopularly supposed in England to be the hotbed of truculent plots,but where they only saw a quiet academic cloister and an exquisitegarden, green turf, roses and white lilies in full perfection, andstudents flitting about in cassocks and square caps, more like anOxford scene, as Mr. Fellowes said, than anything he had yet seen.He was joined by an English priest from his own originalneighbourhood. The Abbe Leblanc found another acquaintance, andthese two accompanied their friends to the ramparts. The marquishad a great deal to hear from his cousin about his home, and thus ithappened that Charles Archfield and Anne found themselves morepractically alone together than they had yet been. As they lookedat the view over the country, he told her of a conversation that hehad had with an officer now in the French army, but who had servedin the Imperial army against the Turks, and that he had obtainedmuch useful information.

  "Useful?" asked Anne.

  "Yes. I have been watching for the moment to tell you, Anne; I haveresolved what to do. I intend to make a few campaigns there againstthe enemy of Christendom."

  "O Mr. Archfield!" was all she could say.

  "See here, I have perceived plainly that to sink down into my lady'seldest son is no wholesome life for a man with all his powers abouthim. I understand now what a set of oafs we were to despise thepoor fellow you wot of, because he was not such a lubber asourselves. I have no mind to go through the like."

  "You are so different; it could not be the same."

  "Not quite; but remember there is nothing for me to do. My fatheris still an active man, and I am not old enough to take my part inpublic affairs, even if I loved greatly either the Prince of Orangeor King James. I could not honestly draw my sword for either. Ihave no estate to manage, my child's inheritance is all in money,and it would drive me mad, or worse, to go home to be idle. No; Iwill fight against the common enemy till I have made me a name, andwon reputation and standing; or if I should not come back, there'sthe babe at home to carry on the line."

  "Oh, sir! your father and mother--Lucy--all that love you. Whatwill they say?"

  "It would only put them to needless pain to ask them. I shall not.I shall write explaining all my motives--all except one, and thatyou alone know, Anne."

  She shuddered a little, and felt him press her arm tightly. Theyhad fallen a good deal behind the marquis and his cousin, and weredescending as twilight fell into a narrow, dark, lonely street, withall the houses shut up. "No one has guessed, have they?" shefaltered.

  "Not that I know of. But I cannot--no! I can_not_ go home, to havethat castle near me, and that household at Oakwood. I see enough inmy dreams without that."

  "See! Ah, yes!"

  "Then, Anne, you have suffered then too--guiltless as you are inkeeping my terrible secret! I have often thought and marvelledwhether it were so with you."

  She was about to tell him what she had seen, when he began, "Thereis one thing in this world that would sweeten and renew my life--andthat?"

  Her heart was beating violently at what was so suddenly coming onher, when at that instant Charles broke off short with "GoodHeavens! What's that?"

  On the opposite side of the street, where one of the many churchesstood some way back, making an opening, there was a figure,essentially the same that Anne had seen at Lambeth, but bare-headed,clad apparently in something long and white, and with a pale bluishlight on the ghastly but unmistakable features.

  She uttered a faint gasping cry scarcely audible, Charles's impulsewas to exclaim, "Man or spirit, stand!" and drawing his sword torush across the street; but in that second all had vanished, and heonly struck against closed doors, which he shook, but could notopen.

  "Mr. Archfield! Oh, come back! I have seen it before," entreatedAnne; and he strode back, with a gesture of offering her support,and trembling, she clung to his arm. "It does not hurt," she said."It comes and goes--"

  "You have seen it before!"

  "Twice."

  No more could be said, for through the gloom the white plume andgold-laced uniform of the marquis were seen. He had missed them,and come back to look for them, beginning to apologise.

  "I am confounded at having left Mademoiselle behind.--Comment!"--asthe sound betrayed that Charles was sheathing his sword. "I trustthat Monsieur has met with no unpleasant adventure from my people."

  "Oh, no, Monsieur," was the answer, as he added--

  "One can never be sure as to these fiery spirits towards anEnglishman in the present state of feeling, and I blame myselfextremely for having permitted myself to lose sight of Monsieur andMademoiselle."

  "Indeed, sir, we have met with no cause of complaint," said Charles,adding as if casually, "What is that church?"

  "'Tis the Jesuits' Church," replied the governor. "There is thebest preaching in the town, they say, and Jansenists as we are, Iwas struck with the Lenten course."

  Anne went at once to her room on returning to the house. Naomi, whowas there already, exclaimed at her paleness, and insisted onadministering a glass of wine from what the English called the reresupper, the French an encas, the substantial materials for which hadbeen left in the chamber. Then Anne felt how well it had been forher that her fellows at the palace had been so uncongenial, for shecould hardly help disclosing to Naomi the sight she had seen, andthe half-finished words she had heard. It was chiefly the feelingthat she could not bear Naomi to know of the blood on Charles's handwhich withheld her in her tumult of feeling, and made her onlyentreat, "Do not ask me, I cannot tell you." And Naomi, who wassome years older, and had had her own sad experience, guessedperhaps at one cause for her agitation, and spared her inquiries,though as Anne, tired out by the long day, and forced by their closequarters to keep herself still, dropped asleep, strange mutteringsfell from her lips about "The vault--the blood--come back. There heis. The secret has risen to forbid. O, poor Peregrine!"

  Between the July heat, the narrow bed, and the two chamber fellows,Anne had little time to collect her thoughts, except for the generalimpression that if Charles finished what he had begun to say, theliving and the dead alike must force her to refuse, though somethingwithin foreboded that this would cost her more than she yet durstperceive, and her heart was ready to spring forth and enclose him asit were in an embrace of infinite tenderness, above all when shethought of his purpose of going to those fearful Hungarian wars.

  But after the hot night, it was a great relief to prepare for anearly start. M. de Nidemerle had decided on sending the travellersto Tournay, the nearest Spanish town, on the Scheldt, since he hadsome acquaintance with the governor, and when no campaign wasactually on foot the courtesies of generous enemies passed betweenthem. He had already sent an intimation of his intention offorwarding an English kinswoman of his own with her companions, andbespoken the good offices of his neighbour, and they were now to setoff in very early morning under the escort of a flag of truce, atrumpeter, and a party of troopers, commanded by an experienced oldofficer with white moustaches and the peaked beard of the lastgeneration, contrasting with a face the colour of walnut wood.

  The marquis himself and his son, however, rode with the travellersfor their first five miles, through a country where the rich greenof the natural growth showed good soil, all enamelled with flowersand corn crops run wild; but the villages looked deserted, theremains of burnt barns and houses were frequent, and all along thatfrontier, it seemed as if no peaceful i
nhabitants ventured tosettle, and only brigands often rendered such by misery might prowlabout. The English party felt as if they had never understood whatwar could be.

  However, in a melancholy orchard run wild, under the shade of anapple-tree laden with young fruit, backed by a blackened gable halfconcealed by a luxuriant untrimmed vine, the avant couriers of thecommandant had cleared a space in the rank grass, and spread amorning meal, of cold pate, fowl and light wines, in which theFrench officers drank to the good journey of their friends, and thenwhen the horses had likewise had their refreshment the parting tookplace with much affection between the cousins. The young Ribaumontaugured that they should meet again when he had to protect Noemi ina grand descent on Dorsetshire in behalf of James, and she merrilyshook her fist at him and defied him, and his father allowed thatthey were a long way from that.

  M. de Nidemerle hinted to Mr. Archfield that nobody could tell himmore about the war with the Turks than M. le Capitaine Delaune, whowas, it appeared, a veteran Swiss who had served in almost everyarmy in Europe, and thus could give information by no means to beneglected. So that, to Anne's surprise and somewhat to hermortification, since she had no knowledge of the cause, she sawCharles riding apart with this wooden old veteran, who sat asupright as a ramrod on his wiry-looking black horse, leaving her tothe company of Naomi and Mr. Fellowes. Did he really wish not topursue the topic which had brought Peregrine from his grave? Itwould of course be all the better, but it cost her some terriblepangs to think so.

  There were far more formalities and delays before the travellerscould cross the Tournay bridge across the Scheldt. They werebrought to a standstill a furlong off, and had to wait while thetrumpeter rode forward with the white flag, and the message wasreferred to the officer on guard, while a sentry seemed to bewatching over them. Then the officer came to the gateway of thebridge, and Captain Delaune rode forward to him, but there was stilla long weary waiting in the sun before he came back, after havingshown their credentials to the governor, and then he was accompaniedby a Flemish officer, who, with much courtesy, took them under hischarge, and conducted them through all the defences, over thebridge, and to the gate where their baggage had to be closelyexamined. Naomi had her Bible in her bosom, or it would not haveescaped; Anne heartily wished she had used the same precaution onher flight from England, but she had not, like her friend, beenwarned beforehand.

  When within the city there was more freedom, and the Flemingconducted the party to an inn, where, unlike English inns, theycould not have a parlour to themselves, but had to take their mealsin common with other guests at a sort of table d'hote, and theladies had no refuge but their bedroom, where the number of beds didnot promise privacy. An orderly soon arrived with an invitation toDon Carlos Arcafila to sup with the Spanish governor, and of coursethe invitation could not be neglected. The ladies walked about alittle in the town with Mr. Fellowes, looking without appreciationat the splendid five-towered cathedral, but recollecting with dueEnglish pride that the place had been conquered by Henry VIII.Thence they were to make for Ostend, where they were certain offinding a vessel bound for England.

  It was a much smaller party that set forth from Tournay than fromParis, and soon they fell into pairs, Mr. Fellowes and Naomi ridingtogether, sufficiently out of earshot of the others for Charles tobegin--

  "I have not been able to speak to you, Anne, since that strangeinterruption--if indeed it were not a dream."

  "Oh, sir, it was no dream! How could it be?"

  "How could it, indeed, when we both saw it, and both of us awake andafoot, and yet I cannot believe my senses."

  "Oh, I can believe it only too truly! I have seen him twice before.I thought you said you had."

  "Merely in dreams, and that is bad enough."

  "Are you sure? for I was up and awake."

  "Are _you_ sure? I might ask again. I was asleep in bed, and gladenough to shake myself awake. Where were you?"

  "Once on Hallowmas Eve, looking from the window at Whitehall; oncewhen waiting with the Queen under the wall of Lambeth Church, on thenight of our flight."

  "Did others see him then?"

  "I was alone the first time. The next time when he flitted acrossthe light, no one else saw him; but they cried out at my start. Whyshould he appear except to us?"

  "That is true," muttered Charles.

  "And oh, sir, those two times he looked as he did in life--notghastly as now. There can be no doubt now that--"

  "What, sweet Anne?"

  "Sir, I must tell you! I could bear it no longer, and I _did_consult the Bishop of Bath and Wells."

  "Any more?" he asked in a somewhat displeased voice.

  "No one, not a soul, and he is as safe as any of the priests here;he regards a confession in the same way. Mr. Archfield, forgive me.He seemed divinely sent to me on that All Saints' day! Oh, forgiveme!" and tears were in her eyes.

  "He is Dr. Ken--eh? I remember him. I suppose he is as safe as anyman, and a woman must have some relief. You have borne enoughindeed," said Charles, greatly touched by her tears. "What did hesay?"

  "He asked, was I certain of the--death," said she, bringing out theword with difficulty; "but then I had only seen _it_ at Whitehall;and these other appearances, in such places too, take away all hopethat it is otherwise!"

  "Assuredly," said Charles; "I had not the least doubt at the moment.I know I ran my sword through his body, and felt a jar that Ibelieve was his backbone," he said with a shudder, "and he fellprone and breathless; but since I have seen more of fencing, andheard more of wounds, the dread has crossed me that I acted as aninexperienced lad, and that I ought to have tried whether the lifewas in him, or if he could be recovered. If so, I slew him twice,by launching him into that pit. God forgive me!"

  "Is it so deep?" asked Anne, shuddering. "I know there is a sort ofstep at the top; but I always shunned the place, and never lookedin."

  "There are two or three steps at the top, but all is broken awaybelow. Sedley and I once threw a ball down, and I am sure itdropped to a depth down which no man could fall and _live_. Ibelieve there once were underground passages leading to the harbouron one hand, and out to Portsdown Hill on the other, but that thecommunication was broken away and the openings destroyed when LordGoring was governor of Portsmouth, to secure the castle. Be that asit may, he could not have been living after he reached that floor.I heard the thud, and the jingle of his sword, and it will haunt meto my dying day."

  "And yet you never intended it. You did it in defence of me. Youdid not mean to strike thus hard. It was an accident."

  "Would that I could so feel it!" he sighed. "Nay, of course I hadno evil design when my poor little wife drove me out to give you herrag of ribbon, or whatever it was; but I hated as well as despisedthe fellow. He had angered me with his scorn--well deserved, as nowI see--of our lubberly ways. She had vexed me with her teasingcommendations--out of harmless mischief, poor child. I hated himmore every time you looked at him, and when I had occasion to strikehim I was glad of it. There was murder in my heart, and I felt asif I were putting a rat or a weasel out of the way when I threw himdown that pit. God forgive me! Then, in my madness, I so actedthat in a manner I was the death of that poor young thing."

  "No, no, sir. Your mother had never thought she would live."

  "So they say; but her face comes before me in reproach. There aretimes when I feel myself a double murderer. I have been on thepoint of telling all to Mr. Fellowes, or going home to accusemyself. Only the thought of my father and mother, and of leavingsuch a blight on that poor baby, has withheld me; but I cannot gohome to face the sight of the castle."

  "No," said Anne, choked with tears.

  "Nor is there any suspicion of the poor fellow's fate," he added.

  "Not that I ever heard."

  "His family think him fled, as was like enough, considering the wayin which they treated him," said Charles. "Nor do I see what goodit would do them to know the truth."

&n
bsp; "It would only be a grief and bitterness to all."

  "I hope I have repented, and that God accepts my forgiveness," saidCharles sadly. "I am banishing myself from all I love, and there isa weight on me for life; but, unless suspicion falls on others, I donot feel bound to make it worse for all by giving myself up. Yetthose appearances--to you, to me, to us both! At such a moment,too, last night!"

  "Can it be because of his unhallowed grave?" said Anne, in a lowvoice of awe.

  "If it were!" said Charles, drawing up his horse for a moment inthought. "Anne, if there be one more appearance, the place shall besearched, whether it incriminate me or not. It would be adding toall my wrongs towards the poor fellow, if that were the case."

  "Even if he were found," said Anne, "suspicion would not light onyou. And at home it will be known if he haunts the place. I will--"

  "Nay, but, Anne, he will not interrupt me now. I have much more tosay. I want you to remember that we were sweethearts ere ever I, asa child of twelve, knew that I was contracted to that poor babe, andbidden to think only of her. Poor child! I honestly did my best tolove her, so far as I knew how, and mayhap we could have rubbed onthrough life passably well as things go. But--but--It skills nottalking of things gone by, except to show that it is a whole heart--not the reversion of one that is yours for ever, mine only love."

  "Oh, but--but--I am no match for you."

  "I've had enough of grand matches."

  "Your father would never endure it."

  "My father would soon rejoice. Besides, if we are wedded here--sayat Ostend--and you make me a home at Buda, or Vienna, or some placeat our winter quarters, as my brave wench will, my father will beglad enough to see us both at home again."

  "No; it cannot be. It would be plain treachery to your parents; Mr.Fellowes would say so. I am sure he would not marry us."

  "There are English chaplains. Is that all that holds you back?"

  "No, sir. If the Archbishop of Canterbury were here himself, itcould not make it other than a sin, and an act of mean ingratitude,for me, the Prince's rocker, to take advantage of their goodness inpermitting you to come and bring me home--to do what would be pain,grief, and shame to them."

  "Never shame."

  "What is wrong is shame! Cannot you see how unworthy it would be inme, and how it would grieve my uncle that I should have done such athing?"

  "Love would override scruples."

  "Not _true_ love."

  "True! Then you own to some love for me, Anne."

  "I do--not--know. I have guarded--I mean--cast away--I mean--neverentertained any such thought ever since I was old enough to know howwicked it would be."

  "Anne! Anne!" (in an undertone very like rapture), "you haveconfessed all! It is no sin _now_. Even you cannot say so."

  She hung her head and did not answer, but silence was enough forhim.

  "It is enough!" he said; "you will wait. I shall know you arewaiting till I return in such sort that nothing can be denied me.Let me at least have that promise."

  "You need not fear," murmured Anne. "How could I need? The secretwould withhold me, were there nothing else."

  "And there is something else? Eh, sweetheart? Is that all I am tobe satisfied with?"

  "Oh sir!--Mr. Archfield, I mean--O Charles!" she stammered.

  Mr. Fellowes turned round to consult his pupil as to whether thehalt should be made at the village whose peaked roofs were seen overthe fruit trees.

  But when Anne was lifted down from the steed it was with no grasp ofcommon courtesy, and her hand was not relinquished till it had beenfervently kissed.

  Charles did not again torment her with entreaties to share hisexile. Mayhap he recognised, though unwillingly, that her judgmenthad been right, but there was no small devotion in his wholedemeanour, as they dined, rode, and rested on that summer's day amidfields of giant haycocks, and hostels wreathed with vines, with longvistas of sleek cows and plump dappled horses in the sheds behind.The ravages of war had lessened as they rode farther from thefrontier, and the rich smiling landscape lay rejoicing in the summersunshine; the sturdy peasants looked as if they had never heard ofmarauders, as they herded their handsome cattle and respondedcivilly when a draught of milk was asked for the ladies.

  There was that strange sense of Eden felicity that sometimes comeswith the knowledge that the time is short for mutual enjoyment infull peace. Charles and Anne would part, their future wasundefined; but for the present they reposed in the knowledge of eachother's hearts, and in being together. It was as in theirchildhood, when by tacit consent he had been Anne's champion fromthe time she came as a little Londoner to be alarmed at roughcountry ways, and to be easily scared by Sedley. It had been thenthat Charles had first awakened to the chivalry of the better partof boyhood's nature, instead of following his cousin's lead, andtreating girls as creatures meant to be bullied. Many a happyreminiscence was shared between the two as they rode together, andit was not till the pale breadth of sea filled their horizon, brokenby the tall spires and peaked gables and many-windowed steep roofsof Ostend, that the future was permitted to come forward and troublethem. Then Anne's heart began to feel that persistence in herabsolute refusal was a much harder thing than at the first, when theidea was new and strange to her. And there were strange yearningsthat Charles should renew the proposal, mixed with dread of herselfand of her own resolution in case of his doing so. As heraffections embraced him more and more she pictured him sick,wounded, dying, out of reach of all, among Germans, Hungarians,Turks,--no one at hand to comfort him or even to know his fate.

  There was even disappointment in his acquiescence, though her bettermind told her that it was in accordance with her prayer againsttemptation. Moreover, he was of a reserved nature, not apt todiscuss what was once fixed, and perhaps it showed that he respectedher judgment not to try to shake her decision. Though for once lovehad carried him away, he might perhaps be grateful to her forsparing him the perplexities of dragging her about with him and ofgiving additional offence to his parents. The affection born oflifelong knowledge is not apt to be of the vehement character thatdisregards all obstacles or possible miseries to the object thereof.Yet enough feeling was betrayed to make Naomi whisper at night,"Sweet Nan, are you not some one else's sweet?"

  And Anne, now with another secret on her heart, only replied withembraces, and, "Do not talk of it! I cannot tell how it is to be.I cannot tell you all."

  Naomi was discreet enough only to caress.

  With strict formalities at outworks, moat, drawbridge, and gates,and the customary inquisitorial search of the luggage, thetravellers were allowed to repair to a lofty inn, with the Lion ofFlanders for its sign, and a wide courtyard, the successive outsidegalleries covered with luxuriant vines. Here, as usual, though theparty of females obtained one bedroom together, the gentlemen had toshare one vast sleeping chamber with a variety of merchants, Dutch,Flemish, Spanish, and a few English. Meals were at a great tabled'hote in the public room, opening into the court, and were sharedby sundry Spanish, Belgic, and Swiss officers of the garrison, whomade this their mess-room. Two young English gentlemen, likeCharles Archfield, making the grand tour, whom he had met in Italy,were delighted to encounter him again, and still more so at thecompany of English ladies.

  "No wonder the forlorn widower has recovered his spirits!" Anneheard one say with a laugh that made her blush and turn away; andthere was an outcry that after a monopoly of the fair ones all theway from Paris, the seats next to them must be yielded.

  Anne was disappointed, and could not bring herself to be agreeableto the obtrusive cavalier with the rich lace cravat and perfumedhair, both assumed in her honour.

  The discussion was respecting the vessels where a passage might beobtained. The cavaliers were to sail in a couple of days forLondon, but another ship would go out of harbour with the tide onthe following day for Southampton, and this was decided on byacclamation by the Hampshire party, though no good accommodation wasprom
ised them.

  There was little opportunity for a tete-a-tetes, for the young meninsisted on escorting the ladies to the picture galleries, palaces,and gardens, and Charles did not wish to reawaken the observationsthat, according to the habits of the time, might not be of thechoicest description. Anne watched him under her eyelashes, andwondered with beating heart whether after all he intended to returnhome, and there plead his cause, for he gave no token of intendingto separate from the rest.

  The Hampshire Hog was to sail at daybreak, so the passengers went onboard over night, after supper, when the summer twilight was sinkingdown and the far-off west still had a soft golden tint.

  Anne felt Charles's arm round her in the boat and grasping her hand,then pulling off her glove and putting a ring on her finger--all insilence. She still felt that arm on the deck in the confusion ofmen, ropes, and bales of goods, and the shouts and hails on allsides that nearly deafened her. There was imminent danger of beinghurled down, if not overboard, among the far from sober sailors, andMr. Fellowes urged the ladies to go below at once, conducting MissDarpent himself as soon as he could ascertain where to go. Annefelt herself almost lifted down. Then followed a strong embrace, akiss on brow, lips, and either cheek, and a low hoarse whisper--"Sobest! Mine own! God bless you,"--and as Suzanne came tumbling aftinto the narrow cabin, Anne found herself left alone with her twofemale companions, and knew that these blissful days were over.