CHAPTER X.
THE FACE IN THE PORCH.
"This is a serious matter," said Master Bertie thoughtfully, as we satin conclave an hour later round the table in the parlor. Mistress Annewas attending to Dymphna upstairs, and Van Tree had not returnedagain; so that we had been unable to tell him of the morning'sadventure. But the rest of us were there. "It considerably adds to thedanger of our position," Bertie continued.
"Of course it does," his wife said promptly. "But Master Lindstromhere can best judge of that, and of what course it will be safest totake."
"It depends," our host answered slowly, "upon whether the dead man bediscovered before night. You see if the body be not found----"
"Well?" said my lady impatiently, as he paused.
"Then we must some of us go after dark and bury him," he decided. "Andperhaps, though he will be missed at the next roll-call in the city,his death may not be proved, or traced to this neighborhood. In thatcase the storm will blow over, and things be no worse than before."
"I fear there is no likelihood of that," I said; "for I am told he hada companion. One of the maids noticed them lurking about the end ofthe bridge more than once this morning."
Our host's face fell.
"That is bad," he said, looking at me in evident consternation. "Whotold you?"
"Mistress Anne. And one of the maids told her. It was that which ledme to follow your daughter."
The old man got up for about the fortieth time, and shook my hand,while the tears stood in his eyes and his lip trembled. "Heaven blessyou, Master Carey!" he said. "But for you, my girl might not haveescaped."
He could not finish. His emotion choked him, and he sat down again.The event of the morning--his daughter's danger, and my share inaverting it--had touched him as nothing else could have touched him. Imet the Duchess's eyes and they too were soft and shining, wearing anexpression very different from that which had greeted me on my returnwith Dymphna.
"Ah, well! she is safe," Master Lindstrom resumed, when he hadregained his composure. "Thanks to Heaven and your friend, madam!Small matter now if house and lands go!"
"Still, let us hope they will not," Master Bertie said. "Do you thinkthese miscreants were watching the island on our account? That someinformation had been given as to our presence, and they were sent tolearn what they could?"
"No, no!" the Dutchman answered confidently. "It was the sight of thegirl and her gewgaws yesterday brought them--the villains! There isnothing safe from them and nothing sacred to them. They saw her asthey passed up in the boat, you remember."
"But then, supposing the worst to come to the worst?"
"We must escape across the frontier to Wesel, in the Duchy of Cleves,"replied Lindstrom in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he had longconsidered and settled the point. "The distance is not great, and inWesel we may find shelter, at any rate for a time. Even there, ifpressure be brought to bear upon the Government to give us up, I wouldnot trust it. Yet for a time it may do."
"And you would leave all this?" the Duchess said in wonder, her eyestraveling round the room, so clean and warm and comfortable, andsettling at length upon the great armoire of plate, which happened tobe opposite to her. "You would leave all this at a moment's notice?"
"Yes, madam, all we could not carry with us," he answered simply."Honor and life, these come first. And I thank Heaven that I live herewithin reach of a foreign soil, and not in the interior, where escapewould be hopeless."
"But if the true facts were known," the Duchess urged, "would youstill be in danger? Would not the magistrates protect you? The Schoutand Schepen as you call them? They are Dutchmen."
"Against a Spanish governor and a Spanish garrison?" he replied withemphasis. "Ay, they would protect me--as one sheep protects anotheragainst the wolves. No! I dare not risk it. Were I in prison, whatwould become of Dymphna?"
"Master Van Tree?"
"He has the will to shelter her, no doubt. And his father hasinfluence; but such as mine--a broken reed to trust to. Then Dymphnais not all. Once in prison, whatever the charge, there would bequestioning about religion; perhaps," with a faint smile, "questioningabout my guests."
"I suppose you know best," said the Duchess, with a sigh. "But I hopethe worst will not come to the worst."
"Amen to that!" he answered quite cheerfully.
Indeed, it was strange that we seemed to feel more sorrow at theprospect of leaving this haven of a few weeks, than our host ofquitting the home of a lifetime. But the necessity had come upon ussuddenly, while he had contemplated it for years. So much fear andhumiliation had mingled with his enjoyment of his choicest possessionsthat this long-expected moment brought with it a feeling akin torelief.
For myself I had a present trouble that outweighed any calamity ofto-morrow. Perforce, since I alone knew the spot where the man lay, Imust be one of the burying party. My nerves had not recovered from theblow which the sight of the Spaniard lying dead at my feet had dealtthem so short a time before, and I shrank with a natural repulsionfrom the task before me. Yet there was no escaping it, no chance ofescaping it, I saw.
None the less, throughout the silent meal to which we four sat downtogether, neither the girls nor Van Tree appearing, were my thoughtstaken up with the business which was to follow. I heard our host, whowas to go with me, explaining that there was a waterway right up tothe dyke, and that we would go by boat; and heard him with apathy.What matter how we went, if such were the object of our journey?I wondered how the man's face would look when we came to turn himover, and pictured it in all ghastliest shapes. I wondered whether Ishould ever forget the strange spasmodic twitching of his leg, thegurgle--half oath, half cry--which had come with the blood from histhroat. When Lindstrom said the moon was up and bade me come with himto the boat, I went mechanically. No one seemed to suspect me of fear.I suppose they thought that, as I had not feared to kill him, I shouldnot fear him dead. And in the general silence and moodiness I escapednotice.
"It is a good night for the purpose," the Dutchman said, looking aboutwhen we were outside. "It is light enough for us, yet not so lightthat we run much risk of being seen."
I assented, shivering. The moon was almost at the full, and theweather was dry, but scud after scud of thin clouds, sweeping acrossthe breezy sky, obscured the light from time to time, and left nothingcertain. We loosed the smallest boat in silence, and getting in,pulled gently round the lower end of the island, making for the fringeof rushes which marked the line of division between river and fen. Wecould hear the frogs croaking in the marsh, and the water lapping thebanks, and gurgling among the tree-roots, and making a hundred strangenoises to which daylight ears are deaf. Yet as long as I was in theopen water I felt bold enough. I kept my tremors for the moment whenwe should brush through the rustling belt of reeds, and the willowsshould whisper about our heads, and the rank vegetation, themysterious darkness of the mere should shut us in.
For a time I was to be spared this. Master Lindstrom suddenly stoppedrowing. "We have forgotten to bring a stone, lad," he said in a lowvoice.
"A stone?" I answered, turning. I was pulling the stroke oar, and myback was toward him. "Do we want a stone?"
"To sink the body," he replied. "We cannot bury it in the marsh, andif we could it were trouble thrown away. We must have a stone."
"What is to be done?" I asked, leaning on my oar and shivering, asmuch in impatience as nervousness. "Must we go back?"
"No, we are not far from the causeway now," he answered, with Dutchcoolness. "There are some big stones, I fancy, by the end of thebridge. If not, there are some lying among the cottages just acrossthe bridge. Your eyes are younger than mine, so you had better go. Iwill pull on, and land you."
I assented, and the boat's course being changed a point or two, threeminutes' rowing laid her bows on the mud, some fifty yards from thelandward bend of the bridge, and just in the shadow of the causeway. Isprang ashore and clambered up. "Hist!" he cried,
warning me as I wasabout to start on my errand. "Go about it quietly, Master Francis. Thepeople will probably be in bed. But be secret."
I nodded and moved off, as warily as he could desire. I spent a minuteor two peering about the causeway, but I found nothing that wouldserve our purpose. There was no course left then but to cross theplanks, and seek what I wanted in the hamlet. Remembering how thetimbers had creaked and clattered when I went over them in thedaylight, I stole across on tiptoe. I fancied I had seen a pile ofstones near one of the posts at that end, but I could not find themnow, and after groping about a while--for this part was at the momentin darkness--I crept cautiously past the first hovel, peering to rightand left as I went. I did not like to confess to myself that I wasafraid to be alone in the dark, but that was nearly the truth. I wasfeverishly anxious to find what I wanted and return to my companion.
Suddenly I paused and held my breath. A slight sound had fallen on myears, nervously ready to catch the slightest. I paused and listened.Yes, there it was again; a whispering of cautious voices close by me,within a few feet of me. I could see no one. But a moment's thoughttold me that the speakers were hidden by the farther corner of thecottage abreast of which I stood. The sound of human voices, theassurance of living companionship, steadied my nerves, and to someextent rid me of my folly. I took a step to one side, so as to be morecompletely in the shadow cast by the reed-thatched eaves, and thensoftly advanced until I commanded a view of the whisperers.
They were two, a man and a woman. And the woman was of all peopleDymphna! She had her back to me, but she stood in the moonlight, and Iknew her hood in a moment. The man--surely the man was Van Tree then,if the woman was Dymphna? I stared. I felt sure it must be Van Tree.It was wonderful enough that Dymphna should so far have regained nerveand composure as to rise and come out to meet him. But in that caseher conduct, though strange, was explicable. If not, however, if theman were not Van Tree----
Well, he certainly was not. Stare as I might, rub my eyes as I might,I could not alter the man's figure, which was of the tallest, whereasI have said that the young Dutchman was short. This man's face, too,though it was obscured as he bent over the girl by his cloak, whichwas pulled high up about his throat, was swarthy; swarthy andbeardless, I made out. More, his cap had a feather, and even as hestood still I thought I read the soldier in his attitude. The soldierand the Spaniard!
What did it mean? On what strange combination had I lit? Dymphna and aSpaniard! Impossible. Yet a thousand doubts and thoughts ran riot inmy brain, a thousand conjectures jostled one another to get uppermost.What was I to do? What ought I to do? Go nearer to them, as near aspossible, and listen and learn the truth? Or steal back the way I hadcome, and fetch Master Lindstrom? But first, was it certain that thegirl was there of her own free will? Yes, the question was answered assoon as put. The man laid his hand gently on her shoulder. She did notdraw back.
Confident of this, and consequently of Dymphna's bodily safety, Ihesitated, and was beginning to consider whether the best course mightnot be to withdraw and say nothing, leaving the question of futureproceedings to be decided after I had spoken to her on the morrow,when a movement diverted my thoughts. The man at last raised his head.The moonlight fell cold and bright on his face, displaying everyfeature as clearly as if it had been day. And though I had only onceseen his face before, I knew it again.
And knew him! In a second I was back in England, looking on a fardifferent scene. I saw the Thames, its ebb tide rippling in thesunshine as it ripples past Greenwich, and a small boat gliding overit, and a man in the bow of the boat, a man with a grim lip and asinister eye. Yes, the tall soldier talking to Dymphna in themoonlight, his cap the cap of a Spanish guard, was Master Clarence!the Duchess's chief enemy!
* * * * *
I stayed my foot. With a strange settling into resolve of all mydoubts I felt if my sword, which happily I had brought with me, wasloose in its sheath, and leaned forward scanning him. So he hadtracked us! He was here! With wonderful vividness I pictured all thedangers which menaced the Duchess, Master Bertie, the Lindstroms,myself, through his discovery of us, all the evils which would befallus if the villain went away with his tale. Forgetting Dymphna'spresence, I set my teeth hard together. He should not escape me thistime.
But man can only propose. As I took a step forward, I trod on a roundpiece of wood which turned under my foot, and I stumbled. My eye leftthe pair for a second. When it returned to them they had taken thealarm. Dymphna had started away, and I saw her figure retreatingswiftly in the direction of the house. The man poised himself a momentirresolute opposite to me; then dashed aside and disappeared behindthe cottage.
I was after him on the instant, my sword out, and caught sight of hiscloak as he whisked round a corner. He dodged me twice round the nextcottage, the one nearer the river. Then he broke away and made for thebridge, his object evidently to get off the island. But he seemed atlast to see that I was too quick for him--as I certainly was--andshould catch him half way across the narrow planking; and changing hismind again he doubled nimbly back and rushed into the open porch of acottage, and I heard his sword ring out. I had him at bay.
At bay indeed! But ready as I was, and resolute to capture or killhim, I paused. I hesitated to run in on him. The darkness of the porchhid him, while I must attack with the moonlight shining on me. Ipeered in cautiously. "Come out!" I cried. "Come out, you coward!"Then I heard him move, and for a moment I thought he was coming, and Istood a-tiptoe waiting for his rush. But he only laughed a derisivelaugh of triumph. He had the odds, and I saw he would keep them.
I took another cautious step toward him, and shading my eyes withmy left hand, tried to make him out. As I did so, gradually his facetook dim form and shape, confronting mine in the darkness. I staredyet more intently. The face became more clear. Nay, with a suddenleap into vividness, as it were, it grew white against the darkbackground--white and whiter. It seemed to be thrust out nearer andnearer, until it almost touched mine. It--his face? No, it was not hisface! For one awful moment a terror, which seemed to still my heart,glued me to the ground where I stood, as it flashed upon my brain thatit was another face that grinned at me so close to mine, that it wasanother face I was looking on; the livid, bloodstained face and stonyeyes of the man I had killed!
With a wild scream I turned and fled. By instinct, for terror haddeprived me of reason, I hied to the bridge, and keeping, I knew nothow, my footing upon the loose clattering planks, made one desperaterush across it. The shimmering water below, in which I saw that face athousand times reflected, the breeze, which seemed the dead man's handclutching me, lent wings to my flight. I sprang at a bound from thebridge to the bank, from the bank to the boat, and overturning, yetnever seeing, my startled companion, shoved off from the shore withall my might--and fell a-crying.
A very learned man, physician to the Queen's Majesty has since toldme, when I related this strange story to him, that probably that burstof tears saved my reason. It so far restored me at any rate that Ipresently knew where I was--cowering in the bottom of the boat, withmy eyes covered; and understood that Master Lindstrom was leaning overme in a terrible state of mind, imploring me in mingled Dutch andEnglish to tell him what had happened. "I have seen him!" was all Icould say at first, and I scarcely dared remove my hands from my eyes."I have seen him!" I begged my host to row away from the shore, andafter a time was able to tell him what the matter was, he sitting thewhile with his arm round my shoulder.
"You are sure that it was the Spaniard?" he said kindly, after he hadthought a minute.
"Quite sure," I answered shuddering, yet with less violence. "Howcould I be mistaken? If you had seen him----"
"And you are sure--did you feel his heart this morning? Whether it wasbeating?"
"His heart?" Something in his voice gave me courage to look up, thoughI still shunned the water, lest that dreadful visage should rise fromthe depths. "No, I did not touch him."
"And you tell me t
hat he fell on his face. Did you turn him over?"
"No." I saw his drift now. I was sitting erect. My brain began to workagain. "No," I admitted; "I did not."
"Then how----" asked the Dutchman roughly--"how do you know that hewas dead, young sir? Tell me that."
When I explained, "Bah!" he cried. "There is nothing in that! Youjumped to a conclusion. I thought a Spaniard's head was harder tobreak. As for the blood coming from his mouth, perhaps he bit histongue, or did any one of a hundred things--except die, MasterFrancis. That you may be sure is just what he did not do."
"You think so?" I said gratefully. I began to look about me, yet stillwith a tremor in my limbs, and an inclination to start at shadows.
"Think?" he rejoined, with a heartiness which brought conviction hometome; "I am sure of it. You may depend upon it that Master Clarence,or the man you take for Master Clarence--who no doubt was the othersoldier seen with the scoundrel this morning--found him hurt late inthe evening. Then, seeing him in that state, he put him in the porchfor shelter, either because he could not get him to Arnheim at once,or because he did not wish to give the alarm before he had made hisarrangements for netting your party."
"That is possible!" I allowed, with a sigh of relief. "But what ofMaster Clarence?"
"Well," the old man said; "let us get home first. We will talk of himafterward."
I felt he had more in his mind than appeared, and I obeyed; growingashamed now of my panic, and looking forward with no very pleasantfeelings to hearing the story narrated. But when we reached the house,and found Master Bertie and the Duchess in the parlor waiting forus--they rose startled at sight of my face--he bade me leave that out,but tell the rest of the story.
I complied, describing how I had seen Dymphna meet Clarence, and whatI had observed to pass between them. The astonishment of my hearersmay be imagined. "The point is very simple," said our host coolly,when I had, in the face of many exclamations and some incredulity,completed the tale; "it is just this! The woman certainly was notDymphna. In the first place, she would not be out at night. In thesecond place, what could she know of your Clarence, an Englishman anda stranger? In the third place, I will warrant she has been in herroom all the evening. Then if Master Francis was mistaken in thewoman, may he not have been mistaken in the man? That is the point."
"No," I said boldly. "I only saw her back. I saw his face."
"Certainly, that is something," Master Lindstrom admitted reluctantly.
"But how many times had you seen him before?" put in my lady verypertinently. "Only once."
In answer to that I could do no more than give further assurance of mycertainty on the point. "It was the man I saw in the boat atGreenwich," I declared positively. "Why should I imagine it?"
"All the same, I trust you have," she rejoined. "For, if it was indeedthat arch scoundrel, we are undone."
"Imagination plays us queer tricks sometimes," Master Lindstrom said,with a smile of much meaning. "But come, lad, I will ask Dymphna,though I think it useless to do so. For whether you are right or wrongas to your friend, I will answer for it you are wrong as to mydaughter."
He was rising to go from them for the purpose, when Mistress Anneopened the door and came in. She looked somewhat startled at findingus all in conclave. "I thought I heard your voices," she explainedtimidly, standing between us and the door. "I could not sleep."
She looked indeed as if that were so. Her eyes were very bright, andthere was a bright spot of crimson in each cheek. "What is it?" shewent on abruptly, looking hard at me and shutting her lips tightly.There was so much to explain that no one had taken it in hand tobegin.
"It is just this," the Duchess said, opening her mouth with a snap."Have you been with Dymphna all the time?"
"Yes, of course," was the prompt answer.
"What is she doing?"
"Doing?" Mistress Anne repeated in surprise. "She is asleep."
"Has she been out since nightfall?" the Duchess continued. "Out of herroom? Or out of the house?"
"Out? Certainly not. Before she fell asleep she was in no state to goout, as you know, though I hope she will be all right when she awakes.Who says she has been out?" Anne added sharply. She looked at me witha challenge in her eyes, as much as to say, "Is it you?"
"I am satisfied," I said, "that I was mistaken as to Mistress Dymphna.But I am just as sure as before that I saw Clarence."
"Clarence?" Mistress Anne repeated, starting violently, and the colorfor an instant fleeing from her cheeks. She sat down on the nearestseat.
"You need not be afraid, Anne," my lady said smiling. She had awonderfully high courage herself. "I think Master Francis wasmistaken, though he is so certain about it."
"But where--where did he see him?" the girl asked. She still trembled.
Once more I had to tell the tale; Mistress Anne, as was natural,listening to it with the liveliest emotions. And this time so much ofthe ghost story had to be introduced--for she pressed me closely as towhere I had left Clarence, and why I had let him go--that myassurances got less credence than ever.
"I think I see how it is," she said, with a saucy scorn that hurt menot a little. "Master Carey's nerves are in much the same stateto-night as Dymphna's. He thought he saw a ghost, and he did not. Hethought he saw Dymphna, and he did not. And he thought he saw MasterClarence, and he did not."
"Not so fast, child!" cried the Duchess sharply, seeing me wince."Your tongue runs too freely. No one has had better proofs of MasterCarey's courage--for which I will answer myself--than we have!"
"Then he should not say things about Dymphna!" the young ladyretorted, her foot tapping the floor, and the red spots back in hercheeks. "Such rubbish I never heard!"
The Story of Francis Cludde Page 11
