A Rent In A Cloud Part 27

Had she been a shrewd reader of expression, she could not fail to have noticed the intense relief her words gave him. He looked like one who hears the blessed words Not Guilty! after hours of dread anxiety for his fate. "And am I to believe," asked he, in a voice tremulous with joy, "that from the hour I said farewell, to this day, that I have been to you as one dead and buried and forgotten?"

"I don't think we forgot you; but we rigidly observed our pledge to you, and never spoke of you."

"What is there on earth so precious as the trustfulness of true friendship?" burst he in, with a marked enthusiasm. "I have had what the world calls great successes, and I swear to you I'd give them all, and all their rewards twice told, for this proof of affection; and the dear girls, and Florence--how is she?"

"Far better than when you saw her. Indeed, I should say perfectly restored to health. She walks long walks, and takes rides on a mountain pony, and looks like one who had never known illness."

"Not married yet?" said he with a faint smile.

"No; he is coming back next month and they will probably be married before Christmas."

"And as much in love as ever--he, I mean?"

"Fully; and she too."

"Pshaw! She never cared for him; she never could care for him. She tried it--did her very utmost I saw the struggle, and I saw its failure, and I told her so?"

"You told her so!"

"Why not? It was well for the poor girl that one human being in all the world should understand and feel for her. And she is determined to marry him?"

"Yes; he is coming back solely with that object."

"How was it that none of his letters spoke of me? Are you quite sure they did not?"

"I am perfectly sure, for she always gave them to me to read."

"Well!" cried he, boldly, as he stood up, and threw his head haughtily back, "the fellow who led Calvert's Horse--that was the name my irregulars were known by--might have won distinction enough to be quoted by a petty Bengal civil servant. The Queen will possibly make amends for this gentleman's forgetfulness."

"You were in all this dreadful campaign, then?" asked she eagerly.

"Through the whole of it. Held an independent command; got four times wounded: this was the last." And he laid bare a fearful cicatrice that almost surrounded his right arm above the wrist.

"Refused the Bath."

"Refused it?"

"Why not? What object is it to me to be Sir Harry? Besides, a man who holds opinions such as mine, should accept no court favours. Colonel Calvert is a sufficient t.i.tle."

"And you are a colonel already?"

"I was a major-general a month ago--local rank, of course. But why am I led to talk of these things? May I see the girls? Will they like to see me?"

"For that I can answer. But are your minutes not counted? These despatches?"

"I have thought of all that This sword-cut has left it terrible 'tic'

behind it, and travelling disposes to it, so that I have telegraphed for leave to send my despatches forward by Ha.s.san, my Persian fellow, and rest myself here for a day or two. I know you'll not let me die un-watched, uncared for. I have not forgotten all the tender care you once bestowed upon me."

She knew not what to reply. Was she to tell him that the old green chamber, with its little stair into the garden, was still at his service? Was she to say, "Your old welcome awaits you there," or did she dread his presence amongst them, and even fear what reception the girls would extend to him?

"Not," added he, hastily, "that I am to inflict you with a sick man's company again. I only beg for leave to come out of a morning when I feel well enough. This inn here is very comfortable, and though I am glad to see Onofrio does not recognise me, he will soon learn my ways enough to suit me. Meanwhile, may I go back with you, or do you think you ought to prepare them for the visit of so formidable a personage?"

"Oh, I think you may come at once," said she, laughingly, but very far from feeling a.s.sured at the same time.

"All the better. I have some baubles here that I want to deposit in more suitable hands than mine. You know that we irregulars had more looting than our comrades, and I believe that I was more fortunate in this way than many others." As he spoke, he hastily opened and shut again several jewel-cases, but giving her time to glance-no more than glance--at the glittering objects they contained. "By-the-way," said he, taking from one of them a costly brooch of pearls, "this is the sort of thing they fasten a shawl with," and he gallantly placed it in her shawl as he spoke.

"Oh, my dear Colonel Calvert!"

"Pray do not call me colonel. I am Harry Calvert for you, just as I used to be. Besides, I wish for nothing that may remind me of my late life and all its terrible excitements. I am a soldier tired, very tired of war's alarms, and very eager for peace in its best of all significations. Shall we go?"

"By all means. I was only thinking that you must reconcile yourself not to return to-night, and rough it how best you can at the villa."

"Let me once see my portmanteau in the corner of my old green room, and my pipe where it used to hang beside my watch over the chimney, and I'll not believe that I have pa.s.sed the last two terrible years but in a dream. You could not fancy how I attach myself to that spot, but I'll give you a proof. I have given orders to my agent to buy the villa. Yes; you'll wake some fine morning and find me to be your landlord."

It was thus they talked away, rambling from one theme to the other, till they had gone a considerable way across the lake, when once more Calvert recurred to the strange circ.u.mstance that his name should never have come before them in any shape since his departure.

"I ought to tell you," said she, in some confusion, "that I once did make an effort to obtain tidings of you. I wrote to your cousin Miss Sophia."

"You wrote to her!" burst he in, sternly; "and what answer did you get?"

"There it is," said she, drawing forth the letter, and giving it to him.

"'No claim! no right!' murmured he, as he re-read the lines; "'the name of the person she had dared to inquire after;' and you never suspected the secret of all this indignant anger?"

"How could I? What was it?"

"One of the oldest and vulgarest of all pa.s.sions--jealousy! Sophy had heard that I was attached to your niece. Some good-natured gossip went so far as to say we were privately married. My old uncle, who only about once in a quarter of a century cares what his family are doing, wrote me a very insulting letter, reminding me of the year-long benefits he had bestowed upon me, and, at the close, categorically demanded 'Are you married to her?' I wrote back four words, 'I wish I was,' and there ended all our intercourse. Since I have won certain distinctions, however, I have heard that he wants to make submission, and has even hinted to my lawyer a hope that the name of Calvert is not to be severed from the old estate of Rocksley Manor; but there will be time enough to tell you about all these things. What did your nieces say to that note of Sophy's?"

"Nothing. They never saw it Never knew I wrote to her."

"Most discreetly done on your part I cannot say how much I value the judgment you exercised on this occasion."

The old lady set much store by such praise, and grew rather prolix about all the considerations which led her to adopt the wise course she had taken.

He was glad to have launched her upon a sea where she could beat, and tack, and wear at will, and leave him to go back to his own thoughts.

"And so," said he, at last, "they are to be married before Christmas?"

"Yes; that is the plan."

"And then she will return with him to India, I take it"

She rodded.

"Poor girl! And has she not one friend in all the world to tell her what a life is before her as the wife of a third--no, but tenth-rate official--in that dreary land of splendour and misery, where nothing but immense wealth can serve to gloss over the dull uniformity of existence, and where the income of a year is often devoted to dispel the ennui of a single day? India, with poverty, is the direst of all penal settlements.

In the bush, in the wilds of New Zealand, in the far-away islands of the Pacific, you have the free air and healthful breezes of heaven. You can bathe without having an alligator for your companion, and lie down on the gra.s.s without a cobra on your carotid; but, in India, life stands always face to face with death, and death in some hideous form."

"How you terrify me!" cried she, in a voice of intense emotion.