Our Admirable Betty - Part 90
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Part 90

How well he remembered those oft-read lines, he knew every twirl and flourish that her pen had made----

Soft with distance the church clock chimed the hour of nine. Half an hour to wait! He was earlier than he had thought. The Major sighed and leaning across the stile, stared away towards the rising moon.

Half an hour and then----?

"Come my John at nine-thirty of the clock but not an instant sooner."

And wherefore not? he wondered. Was it on his account or--? Here he fell to frowning thought and gradually a vague unease came upon him; standing erect he half turned, meaning to walk awhile and return at the appointed time, then paused suddenly to listen.

The night was warm and so very still that sounds carried far and thus he heard a throb upon the air which his trained senses instantly recognised as the sound of horse-hoofs coming at a gallop. Wondering, he moved forward until, standing in the shadow of the high hedge, he could see the road stretching away white under the moon; and presently upon the road were two hors.e.m.e.n, travellers these who rode close side by side, despite their speed. Instinctively the Major stepped back into the shadow and had reached the stile again when he started and wheeled swiftly about--above the drumming of rapidly approaching hoofs he had caught the sound of a laugh, a lazy laugh full of languid amus.e.m.e.nt; the Major clenched his fists and standing in the shadow, watched the oncoming hors.e.m.e.n under knitted brows. Nearer they came until he could see that one of the riders was a woman; nearer yet until he could make out the pale, aquiline features of Mr. Dalroyd; on they came at speed until--the Major's breath caught suddenly for beneath the lady's riding-hood he saw a face framed in glossy, black curls--the delicate profile, the long-lashed eye, that sweet, proud, red-curving mouth--the face of my lady Betty herself.

'So 'twas thus she came to meet him! Well, even so--' he took an uncertain pace forward. 'But was she there to meet him?' She rode loose-reined at the same swift pace; twelve yards, six! 'Was she indeed coming to keep her appointment? No, by G.o.d!' For once in his life the Major's iron self-control was not, a wild rage possessed him; he wore no sword, but, acting upon blind impulse, unarmed as he was, he sprang for the head of Dalroyd's horse. A startled, breathless oath, a wild hurly-burly of stamping hoofs and rearing of frightened horses, then, whipping out one of his ever-ready pistols, Mr. Dalroyd levelled it point-blank at his dim-seen opponent, but as he pulled the trigger his arm was knocked up and the weapon exploded in the air. A desperate smiting in the shadow then, spurring his rearing horse, Mr. Dalroyd broke free and the Major, struck by the shoulder of the plunging animal, was hurled violently into the ditch. When at last he got to his feet, my lady and her escort were nearly out of sight.

"Ha--d'Arcy was it!" said Mr. Dalroyd a little breathlessly as he thrust discharged pistol into holster. "Egad, sweetheart, 'tis relief to know it, I thought 'twas--d'Arcy was it, poor devil. By heaven, Betty, since you are mine at last I can almost find pity for the poor devil, he loved you with a death-in-life adoration, sweet Bet, worshipped you with lowly fervour as you were a saint--you, all warmth and love and pa.s.sion. O, 'tis a pitiful lover you'd ha' found him, sweetheart, 'tis a smug fool and would ha' driven you frantic with his grave and reverent homage. Now I on the other hand Bet----" Mr.

Dalroyd paused suddenly to glance over his shoulder and rode on for a few moments, his head aslant in that att.i.tude of patient listening.

"Didst hear aught, sweetheart? A horse galloping?"

"Nay indeed!" voice m.u.f.fled in her cloak.

"Good!" Hereupon Mr. Dalroyd entered into a full and particular account of his own virtues as a lover, though more than once he paused in the recital to glance over his shoulder and to listen.

"Indeed, sweet Bet, 'tis as well you are set on Paris henceforth for 'tis necessary I should quit England for awhile. I had the misfortune to offend a gentleman some months since and last week the thoughtless fellow was so mistaken as to die--hence I must to France awhile--but with thee 'twill be a very paradise." Here Mr. Dalroyd reached out to touch his companion's hand but in the act of doing so, paused and glanced over his shoulder and immediately proceeded to change the pistols in his holsters.

"'Twas folly in my lord your brother to choose a different route, Bet, I have post-horses waiting all along the road and a lugger waiting in a certain snug cove. If he should be behind----"

"We must wait!" said my lady.

"Wait--aye Bet, we'll wait a reasonable while, though 'tis torment to an eager lover. To-morrow morning we should reach Boulogne and in Boulogne you shall wed me and----"

My lady turned and scanned the long road behind.

"Ha--d'ye hear hoofs, Bet--a horseman?" My lady shook her head, but now Mr. Dalroyd grew silent and rode alert and watchful.

So they rode, staying only to change horses and on again; even when they paused for refreshment, Mr. Dalroyd spoke little except to urge haste and often would cross to door or window and stand there, head aslant, listening.

It was after they had changed horses for the last time that Mr. Dalroyd lifted his head suddenly and glared back over his shoulder as, faint and far, but plain to hear, came the rhythmic throb of galloping hoofs.

"Ha!" he exclaimed in a long-drawn breath. "Dost hear aught, Bet?"

"One gallops behind us!" said my lady faintly.

"Art wearied, sweetheart?"

"Nay--not very."

"Then ride--spur!"

"Nay, 'tis Charles--my brother, perchance."

"'Tis not your brother!"

"How can you tell?"

"I know!" said he grimly and lifted his holster-flap. Thus, mile after mile they rode with never a word between them, yet, despite their speed, faint and far behind was that rhythmic beat of pursuing hoofs, now lost, now heard again, faint but persistent, never any nearer yet never any further off. And often Mr. Dalroyd glared back across his shoulder and spoke only to encourage his companion to faster pace.

Uphill and down they spurred and across wind-swept levels while the moon waned and the stars paled to the dawn; and with the first chill breath of coming day there reached them the sharp, salt tang of the sea. Mr. Dalroyd uttered a short, fierce laugh and, seizing his companion's rein, spurred his jaded animal to the hill before them. A sloping upland, wild and desolate, a treeless expanse clothed with bush and scrub, with beyond, at the top of the ascent, a little wood.

Spurring still, they reached this wood at last and here Mr. Dalroyd drew rein, whipped pistols into pockets and dismounting, lifted my lady from the saddle; then he turned and looked back to see, far away upon the lonely road, a solitary horseman indistinct in the half-light.

"I can do it yet!" he laughed and, catching his companion's hand, hurried through the wood, across a short stretch of gra.s.s and so to the edge of a cliff with the sea beyond, where a two-masted vessel rode at her anchor close insh.o.r.e, while immediately below them was a little bay where a boat had been drawn up. Mr. Dalroyd whistled shrilly, at which signal two men rose from where they had sprawled on the shingle and ran the boat to the edge of the tide.

Then Mr. Dalroyd turned and laughed again.

"Come Betty--my Betty!" he cried. "Yonder lies France and happiness."

"But Charles----"

"He's aboard like enough."

"But----"

"Come!" he cried, glancing toward the little wood.

But now my lady's petticoats must catch which caused much delay; free at length she, not troubling for Mr. Dalroyd's hand, went on down the precipitous path. The sailors, seeing her coming, launched their boat, and my lady, not waiting for their aid and heedless of wet ankles, sprang in, motioning them to do the same.

"But th' gentleman, mam--you'll never run off wi'out your fancy man, lady!" laughed one of the men and pointed to where Mr. Dalroyd yet stood upon the edge of the cliff, staring back towards the wood.

"Lady do be in a 'urry an' no mistake. Tom, give my lord a hail!"

The fellow Tom hailed l.u.s.tily whereupon Mr. Dalroyd shook clenched fist at the little wood and turned to descend the cliff, but in that instant was a faint report; Mr. Dalroyd staggered, wheeled round, took a reeling pace towards that dark wood and fell.

"Lord--Lord love me, Tom!" gasped the sailor.

"Shove off!" cried my lady.

"But mam--your ladyship----"

"Shove off, I say." Almost instinctively the men obeyed, shipped the oars and sat waiting.

"Row!" cried my lady.

"But Lord--Lord love 'ee mam, what o'----"

"Row!" commanded my lady again, "Row and be d.a.m.ned!" And from under her cloak came a hand grasping a long-barrelled pistol. The little boat shot away from sh.o.r.e out towards the lugger.

Mr. Dalroyd lay motionless, outstretched upon the gra.s.s, one arm hidden beneath him and with blood welling between his parted lips; and presently, forth from the shadow of the little wood a masked figure crept, head out-thrust, shoulders bowed, big hand yet grasping the smoking pistol; cautiously and slowly the man drew near and stood looking down on his handiwork. Then Joseph, his obsequiousness gone for ever, laughed harshly and spurned that limp and motionless form with the toe of his heavy riding-boot.

With sudden, mighty effort the dying man struggled to his knees and glaring up into the masked face of his slayer, levelled the weapon he had drawn and c.o.c.ked with so much agony and stealth.