A Blot on the Scutcheon Part 32

"Tell me, child, what brought you hither?"

She faced him straightly, with a tiny wrinkle now between her brows.

"The honour of Varenac and Conyers," she replied, with the air of some grizzled veteran rather than a maid in her teens. "It seems that these poor, ignorant peasants, who are now to call you Seigneur, wanted a leader in crying 'Vive le roi.' And so I came to help them, hearing that you had forgotten how to be a leader of men, and were ready to echo new tunes with foul meaning."

She paused, out of breath, and fully expecting a torrent of angry words in reply.

To her surprise there was silence for one of those long minutes in which one hears the twittering of birds and the drowsy hum of Nature's myriad voices.

Then Morice spoke, not angrily, but with humility and steadfast purpose.

"It is true, Gay," he said. "I had forgotten many things, of which you do well and bravely to remind me. Yet Brittany had taught me those neglected lessons already. I came from Kernak hither to meet my people and cry with them 'Vive le roi'."

"You?"

She was too amazed to speak another word.

"Yes, I. Do not fear that I lie to you, child. I come _now_ as Marquis, not citizen, to my own."

Still she was incredulous.

"But Michael said you had come to bid the peasants of your villages join the patriots--become Revolutionaries."

"I did so come."

"With Marcel Trouet!"

"He went first to Paris; but he will be coming to Varenac."

"And he----"

"Will meet a different reception to what he antic.i.p.ated."

"I don't understand."

Her cry was one of perplexity.

"I cannot tell you all, Gay; only see, sister mine, I found a teacher in Brittany worth a hundred Trouets and Denninghams."

The last word took her mind momentarily from the vital subject.

"Lord Denningham!" she echoed. "Did you know he was here, and Sir Stephen Berrington too? Lord Denningham was with me but now----"

She turned from her brother, as she spoke, to glance behind.

But the garden path was empty. There was no sign of the tall figure which had stood barring her way ten minutes previously.

"He must have returned to the house," she went on. "They were angry that you were not here."

"When did you arrive?"

"Last night. Mr. Berrington and Cousin Jehan brought me, with Nurse Bond for chaperon. Poor nurse! She's a mighty poor traveller, and cried 'lack-a-day' every moment she could spare from her groanings."

But Morice had no thought for the sufferings of Nurse Bond.

"De Quernais!" he repeated. "He is here?"

"Oh, no. He returned to Kernak last night. He wanted me to go too, but I waited for you. He promised to ride over this morning with Cecile."

The colour burned suddenly in Morice's cheeks.

"Cecile?"

The speaking of a name may betray one.

Gabrielle, looking up sharply, understood at once who the teacher of Varenac honour had been.

A dimple deepened in her cheeks.

"You have met Cousin Cecile?"

"Yes."

"Jehan tells me she is pretty."

"It ... it is true."

"You do not appear very certain, sir."

"It is because I am too certain. She is as lovely as she is good."

"Then it is she who called you M. le Marquis?"

What woman could have resisted the touch of raillery?

But Morice was very serious in his reply.

"It is for that reason that I _am_ Marquis de Varenac, and cry 'Vive le roi,'" he answered. "She showed me what loyalty meant. I have been fool and knave, Gay, but pray Heaven she may not know it, till I have proved my honour."

Another pause.

"Jehan!" whispered Gabrielle. "Oh! if only he had not returned last night to Kernak! But how did you miss him?"

"I should have been here myself ere midnight, but lost my way in the stretch of forest which lies between. I should have had a sorry night had it not been for the hospitality of a charcoal burner, who allowed me to sleep in his hut."

"And now----"

"We must not delay, sister. There is work to be done, and at once, though ... though I fear that Cecile will not come over to-day."