by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER XX.--PUNISHED.
Clementina was a spoiled child, and in consequence was as disagreeableand as full of herself as such children are apt to be. She was neitherbeautiful nor clever; she had no outward gifts to counterbalance herimperious airs and selfish ways; consequently she was only popular withher parents and with herself.
The Marmadukes were very rich people, and although Clementina had noreal friends, she had many toadies--girls who praised her for theaccomplishments she did not possess, for the beauty which had beendenied her, and for the talents and cleverness which she knew nothingwhatever about. Clementina both believed in and appreciated flattery.Flattery made her feel comfortable; it soothed her vanity and fed herself-esteem. It was not at all difficult to persuade her that she wasclever, beautiful, and accomplished. But of all her acquirements therewas none of which she was so very proud as of her riding. She was nocoward, and she rode fairly well for a town girl. She had always theadvantage of the best horses, the most stylish habits, and the mostcarefully equipped groom to follow her. On horseback her so-calledfriends told her she looked superb; therefore on horseback she greatlyliked to be.
Rachel's words that morning and Rachel's unconcealed contempt had stungClementina's vanity to the quick. She was quite determined to show thislittle nobody, this awkward country girl, what proper riding meant; andshe galloped off on Ruby with her heart beating high with pride, anger,and a sense of exultation; she would canter lightly away in thedirection of the Avonsyde stables, and be ready to meet Rachel haughtyand triumphant when she returned wearily home on that dull little pony,Surefoot.
Surefoot, however, was not a dull pony. He was extremely gentle anddocile and affectionate, and although he hated the rider he had on hisback that morning, and resented to the bottom of his honest little heartthe indignity of being whipped by her, still one sound from Rachel'svoice was sufficient to restrain him and to keep him from punishing theyoung lady who chose to ride him in the manner she deserved. Clementinahad ridden Surefoot and he had instantly broken into a canter, but atthe sound of Rachel's voice he had moderated his speed Clementina quitebelieved that Surefoot had obeyed her firm hand; and now, as shegalloped away on Ruby, she laughed at the fears expressed for her safetyby Rachel and Robert, the groom.
"They're jealous," she said to herself; "they're both of them jealous,and they don't want me to have the only decent horse of the party. Oh,yes, Ruby, my fine fellow, you shall have a touch of the whip presently.I'm not afraid of you."
She felt for her little silver-mounted riding-whip as she spoke andlightly flicked Ruby's ears with it.
Back went the ears of the half-trained little horse at once, lightningglances seemed to flash from his red-brown eyes, and in a moment he hadtaken to his heels and was away.
His movement almost resembled flying, and for a little time Clementinapersuaded herself that she enjoyed it. This was riding indeed! this wasa gallop worth having! What splendid use she could make of it with herschool-friends by and by. These were her first sensations, but they werequickly followed by others less pleasurable. Ruby seemed to be goingfaster and faster; his legs went straight before him; he rushed pastobstacles; he disdained to take the slightest notice of Clementina'sfeeble little attempts to pull him in. She lost her breath, and with itin a great measure her self-control. Were they going in the rightdirection? No; she was quite sure they were not; she had never seen thatwide expanse of common; she had never noticed that steep descent; shehad never observed that gurgling, rushing avalanche of water; and--oh,good God! Ruby was rushing to it. She screamed and attempted violentlyto pull him in; he shook his head angrily and flew forward faster thanbefore; for Ruby was not of the gentle nature of Surefoot, and he couldnot forgive even the very slight indignity which Clementina had offeredhim. The wretched girl began to scream loudly.
"I shall be killed! I shall be killed! Oh! will no one save me?" shescreamed.
Her cries seemed to madden Ruby. He drew up short, put his head betweenhis legs, and with an easy movement flung Clementina off his back on tothe ground. The next moment he himself was out of sight.
Clementina found herself sitting in the middle of a bog--a bog not deepenough to drown her, but quite wet enough, quite uncomfortable enough,to soak through her riding-habit and to render her thoroughly wretched.At first, when Ruby had dislodged her from his back, her sensations werethose of relief; then she was quite certain every bone in her body wasbroken; then she was equally convinced that the slow and awful death ofsinking in a bog awaited her. She was miles from home; there was not asoul in sight; and yet, try as she would, she could not raise herselfeven to a standing position, for the treacherous ground gave waywhenever she attempted to move.
Her fall had shaken her considerably, and for a time she sat motionless,trying to recover her breath and wondering if arms and legs were allsmashed.
"Oh, what a wicked girl Rachel is!" she said at last. "What right hadshe to go out on a wild horse like that? She must have done it for atrick; she must have done it on purpose; she meant me to ride Rubycoming home, and so she tantalized me and tried to rouse my spirit.Margaret and Jessie Dawson say that I am just full of spirit, and Inever can brook that sneering way, particularly from a mere child likeRachel. Well, well, she's punished now, for I shall probably die ofthis. If all my bones aren't broken, and I firmly believe they are, andif I don't sink in this horrid bog--which I expect I shall--I'm safe tohave rheumatic fever and to die of it, and then what will Rachel do?She'll never know an easy moment again as long as she lives. She'll besorry for the tricks she played me when she thinks of me lying in myearly grave. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do? what shall I do?"
Poor Clementina threw up her hands, by so doing fastening herself morefirmly in the odious bog, and burst into a loud wailing cry. She wascold and wet now, the excitement of her wild race was over, and as themoments flew on, lengthening themselves into half-hours and hours, shebecame thoroughly frightened. Oh, how awful if the night should overtakeher while she sat there! And yet what more likely? for not a soul hadpassed the place since her accident. As her anger cooled and her frightincreased, several prickings of that dull conscience of hers smote theunhappy girl. After all, was Rachel to blame for what had happened? Hadshe not begged and even implored of her not to ride Ruby? Had not Robertspoken freely of what would happen if she did so? Oh, if only she hadlistened to their voices! if only she had not been so self-confident!She pictured them all safe and sound now at home at Avonsyde. Sheimagined them sitting in the pleasant armory chatting over the day'sadventures and most likely forgetting all about her. Abby and the boys,if occupied over any exciting game, would be certain to forget her;little Kitty, to whom she had always been specially cross, would mostlikely rejoice in her absence; Rachel, if she had time to give her athought, would be sure to be possessed with a sense of triumph; andPhil--ah! well, somehow or other Phil was different from other boys andgirls. Phil had a look in his eyes, Phil had a way about him whichClementina recognized as belonging to the rare and beautiful spirit ofunselfishness. Phil's small, thin, white face was ever and always aliveand glowing with sympathy; his eyes would darken and expand at the meremention of anybody's trouble, and again that little sensitive face wouldsparkle and glow with delight over anybody's joy. Clementina, sittingnow in the middle of the bog, the most lonely and wretched girl alive,could not help feeling comforted as she thought of Phil; it was morethan probable that if all the others forgot her Phil might remember.
While Clementina was waiting in a state of absolute despair matters werenot so hopeless for her as she supposed. The children when they reachedAvonsyde gave an instant alarm, and steps were at once taken to searchfor the missing girl. But it is one thing to be lost in the forest andanother thing to be found. Ruby had taken Clementina in the oppositedirection from Avonsyde, and when she was submerged in the bog she wasmany miles away. Robert, shaking his head and muttering that a willfulgirl must come to grief, and that it would be well if they ever saw MissMarmaduke a
live again, went off to saddle a fresh horse to go in searchof her. Other people also started on the same errand; and Phil, whosepale little face was all aglow with excitement, rushed into the stables,and securing a horse, mounted it and rode away after the others. The boywas a splendid rider, having been accustomed to mounting all kinds ofsteeds from his babyhood; but he was tired now, and neither MissGriselda nor his mother would have allowed him to go had they knownanything about it. But the elder members of the family were all away,and the children and servants were only acting on their ownresponsibility.
Phil soon caught up Robert, and the two trotted together side by side.
"I'm quite certain I saw Ruby turning to the left after he went downthat steep bank," said Phil.
"Then if he did he made for the bog and the waterfall as likely as not,"said Robert.
"Oh, Robert, you don't suppose Clementina has been drowned in one of thebogs?" exclaimed Phil in an accent of terror. "You don't, you can'tsuppose that?"
The man favored the boy with a queer glance.
"If Miss Marmaduke was like you, Master Lovel, or like Miss Rachel orMiss Kitty, why, I'd say there weren't a hope of her; but being what sheis--well, maybe she'll be given a little more time to mend her mannersin."
Phil's face assumed a puzzled expression. He said nothing further, andthe two rode hard and fast.
In this manner they did at last find poor Clementina, who, much subduedand softened, received them with almost rapture.
"There's nothing like affliction for bringing characters of that sortlow," muttered Robert as he helped the young lady on his own horse. "Andnow, where's that little beauty Ruby, I wonder? Dashed hisself to piecesas likely as not agin' some of them rocks up there. Oh, yes, andthere'll be no 'count made at all of one of the prettiest little horsesI ever broke in."
Robert had to run by Clementina's side, who was really considerablyshaken and who gave way to violent hysterics soon after they started.
"Somehow, Phil, I thought you would remember," she said at last, turningto her little companion and speaking in a broken voice.
"Why, of course we all remembered," said Phil. "We were all more sorryabout you than I can say; and as to Rachel, she has been crying likeanything. It seems a pity, Clementina, it really does, you know----" Andthen he stopped.
"What seems a pity, Phil?"
"That you should be so obstinate. You know you were; and you were rude,too, for you should not have taken Rachel's horse. It seems to me agreat pity that people should try to pretend--everybody's always tryingto pretend; and what is the use of it? Now, if you had not tried topretend that you could ride as well or better than Rachel, you wouldn'thave got into this trouble and we wouldn't have been so terribly sorry.Where was the use of it, Clementina?" added Phil, gazing hard at theabashed and astonished young lady; "for nobody could expect you to rideas well as Rachel, who is a country girl and has been on horseback sucha lot, you know."
Phil delivered his lecture in the most innocent way, and Clementinareceived it with much humility, wondering all the time why she was notfuriously angry; for surely this was the strangest way to speak to agirl who had been for three seasons under Captain Delacourt.
She made no reply to Phil's harangue and rode on for some time withoutspeaking.
Suddenly a little sigh from the boy, who kept so bravely at her side,reached her ears. She turned and looked at him. It was quite a newsensation for Clementina to observe any face critically except her own;but she did notice now the weariness round the lips and the way theslight little figure drooped forward.
"You're tired, Phil," she said. "You have tired yourself out to findme."
"I am tired," he replied. "We rode very fast, and my side aches, but itwill be better by and by."
"You can scarcely sit on your horse," said Clementina in a tone of realfeeling. "Could not your groom--Robert, I think, you call him--mount thehorse and put you in front of him? He could put his arm round you andyou would be nicely rested."
"That's a good thought, miss," said Robert, with sudden heartiness."And, to be sure, Master Philip do look but poorly. It's wonderful whataffliction does for them sort of characters," he muttered under hisbreath as he complied with this suggestion.
When the little party got near home, Phil, who had been lying againstRobert and looking more dead than alive, roused himself and whisperedsomething to the groom. Robert nodded in reply and immediately afterlifted the boy to the ground.
"I'm going to rest. Please, Clementina, don't say I am tired," he said;and then he disappeared down a little glade and was soon out of sight.
"Where is he going?" asked Clementina of Robert.
"To a little nest as he has made for hisself, miss, just where the treesgrow thickest up there. He and me, we made it together, and it's alwaysdry and warm, and nobody knows of it but our two selves. He often andoften goes there when he can't bear up no longer. I beg your pardon,miss, but I expect I have no right to tell. You won't mention what Ihave said to any of the family, miss?"
"No," said Clementina; "but I feel very sorry for Phil, and I cannotunderstand why there should be any mystery made about his getting tiredlike other people."
"Well, miss, you ask his lady mother. Perhaps she can tell you, forcertain sure no one else can."
Clementina went into the house, where she was received with muchexcitement and very considerable rejoicing. She presented a very sorryplight, her habit being absolutely coated with mud, her hair indisorder, and even her face bruised and discolored. But it is certainthat Rachel had never admired her so much as when she came up to herand, coloring crimson, tried to take her hand.
"Phil said I was rude to you, Rachel, and I am sorry," she muttered.
"Oh, never mind," answered Rachel, whose own little face was quiteswollen with crying. "I was so dreadfully, dreadfully unhappy, for I wasafraid Ruby had killed you, Clementina."
Clementina was now hurried away to her own room, where she had a hotbath and was put to bed, and where her mother fussed over her andgrumbled bitterly at having ever been so silly as to come to such anoutlandish part of the country as Avonsyde.
"I might have lost you, my precious," she said to her daughter. "It wasnothing short of madness my trusting you to those wild young Lovels."
"Oh, mother, they aren't a bit to blame, and I think they are rathernice, particularly Phil."
"Yes, the boy seems a harmless, delicate little creature. I wonder ifthe old ladies will really make him their heir."
"I hope they will, mother, for he is really very nice."
In the course of the evening, as Clementina was lying on her pillows,thinking of a great many things and wondering if Phil was yet restedenough to leave his nest in the forest, there came a tap at her door,and to her surprise Phil's mother entered. In some ways Mrs. Lovel borea slight resemblance to Clementina; for she also was vain andself-conscious and she also was vastly taken up with self. Under thesecircumstances it was extremely natural that the girl and the womanshould feel a strong antipathy the one to the other, and Clementina feltannoyed and the softened expression left her face as Mrs. Lovel took achair by her bedside.
"How are you now, my dear--better, I hope?"
"Thank you, I am quite well," answered Clementina.
"You had a wonderful escape. Ruby is not half broken in. No one attemptsto ride him except Rachel."
Clementina felt the old sullen feeling surging up in her heart.
"Such a horse should not be taken on a riding-party," she said shortly."I have had lessons from Captain Delacourt. I can manage almost anyhorse."
"You can doubtless manage quiet horses," said Mrs. Lovel. "Well, youhave had a wonderful escape and ought to be thankful."
"How is Phil? questioned Clementina after a pause.
"Phil? He is quite well, of course. He is in the armory with the otherchildren."
"He was not well when I saw him last. He looked deadly tired."
"That was his color, my dear. He is a remarkably strong boy
."
Clementina gave a bitter little laugh.
"You must be very blind," she said, "or perhaps you don't wish to see.It was not just because he was pale that he could not keep his seat onhorseback this afternoon. He looked almost as if he would die. You mustbe a very blind mother--very blind."
Mrs. Level's own face had turned white. She was about to make a hastyrejoinder, when the door was again opened and Miss Griselda and MissKatharine came in.
"Not a word, my dear! I will explain to you another time--another time,"she whispered to the girl. And then she stole out of the room.
