Elster's Folly Part 38

"Come, Maude. There's no time to be lost."

"Are the men gone?"

"Yes, they are gone; no thanks to Hartledon, though. He sat mooning on, never giving them the least hint to depart. Priddon told me so. I'll tell you what it is, Maude, you'll have to shake your husband out of no end of ridiculous habits."

"It is growing dark," exclaimed Maude, as she stepped into the corridor.

"Dark! of course it's dark," was the irascible answer; "and they have had to light up the chapel, or Priddon couldn't have seen to read his book.

And all through those confounded fox-hunters!"

Lord Hartledon was not in the drawing-room, where Lady Kirton had left him only a minute before; and she looked round sharply.

"Has he gone on to the chapel?" she asked of the young clergyman.

"No, I think not," replied Mr. Priddon, who was already in his canonicals. "Hedges came in and said something to him, and they went out together."

A minute or two of impatience--she was in no mood to wait long--and then she rang the bell. It should be remarked that the old lady, either from excitement or some apprehension of failure, was shaking and jumping as if she had St. Vitus's dance. Hedges came in.

"Where's your master?" she tartly asked.

"With Mr. Carr, my lady."

"With Mr.--What did you say?"

"My lord is with Mr. Carr. He has just arrived."

A moment given to startled consternation and then the fury broke forth.

The young parson had never had the pleasure of seeing one of these war-dances before, and backed against the wall in his starched surplice.

"What brings him here? How dare he come uninvited?"

"I heard him say, my lady, that finding he had a Sunday to spare, he thought he would come and pa.s.s it at Hartledon," said the well-trained Hedges.

Ere the words had left his lips Lord Hartledon and Mr. Carr were present; the latter in a state of utter amazement and in his travelling dress, having only removed his overcoat.

"You'll be my groomsman, Carr," said Hartledon. "We have no adherents; this is a strictly private affair."

"Did you send for Mr. Carr?" whispered the countess-dowager, looking white through her rouge.

"No; his coming has taken me by surprise," replied Hartledon, with a nervousness he could not wholly conceal.

They pa.s.sed rapidly through the pa.s.sages, marshalled by Hedges. Lord Hartledon led his bride, the countess-dowager walked with the clergyman, and Mr. Carr brought up the rear. The latter gentleman was wondering whether he had fallen into a dream that he should wake up from in the morning. The mode of procession was a little out of the common order of such affairs; but so was the marriage.

Now it happened, not very long before this, that Dr. Ashton was on his way home from a visit to a sick parishioner--a poor man, who said he believed life had been prolonged in him that his many years' minister should be at his deathbed. Dr. Ashton's road lay beyond Hartledon, and in returning he crossed the road, which brought him out near the river, between Hartledon and the Rectory. Happening to cast his eyes that way, he saw a light where he had never seen one before--in the little unused chapel. Peering through the trees at the two low diamond-paned windows, to make sure he was not mistaken, Dr. Ashton quickened his pace: his thoughts glancing at fire.

He was well acquainted with Hartledon; and making his way in by the nearest entrance, he dashed along the pa.s.sages to the chapel, meeting at length one of the servants.

"John," he panted, quite out of breath with hurrying, "there's a light in the chapel. I fear it is on fire."

"Not at all, sir," replied the man. "We have been lighting it up for my lord's marriage. They have just gone in."

"Lighting it up for what?" exclaimed Dr. Ashton.

"For my lord's marriage, sir. He's marrying Lady Maude. It's the old dowager, sir, who has got it up in this queer way," continued the man, venturing on a little confidential gossip with his Rector.

Dr. Ashton paused to collect his wits ere he walked into the chapel. The few wax-candles the servants had been able to put about only served to make the gloom visible. The party were taking their places, the young clergyman directing them where to stand. He opened his book and was commencing, when a hand was laid upon Hartledon's shoulder.

"Lord Hartledon, what is the meaning of this?"

Lord Hartledon recognised the voice, and broke into a cold perspiration.

He gave no answer; but the countess-dowager made up for his silence. Her temper, none of the mildest, had been considerably exasperated by the visit of the fox-hunters; it was made worse by the arrival of Mr. Carr.

When she turned and saw what _this_ formidable interruption was, she lost it altogether, as few, calling themselves gentlewomen, can lose it. As she peered into the face of Dr. Ashton, her own was scarlet and yellow, and her voice rose to a shriek.

"You prying parson, where did you spring from? Are you not ashamed to dodge Lord Hartledon in his own house? You might be taken up and imprisoned for it."

"Lord Hartledon," said Dr. Ashton, "I--"

"How dare you persist, I ask you?" shrieked the old woman, whilst the young clergyman stood aghast, and Mr. Carr folded his arms, and resolutely fixed his eyes on the floor. "Because Hartledon once had a flirtation with your daughter, does that give you leave to haunt him as if you were his double?"

"Madam," said Dr. Ashton, contriving still to subdue his anger, "I must, I will speak to Lord Hartledon. Allow me to do so without disturbance.

Lord Hartledon, I wait for an answer: Are you about to marry this young lady?"

"Yes, he is," foamed the dowager; "I tell you so. Now then?"

"Then, madam," proceeded the doctor, "this marriage owes its rise to you.

You will do well to consider whether you are doing them a kindness or an injury in permitting it. You have deliberately set yourself to frustrate the hopes of Lord Hartledon and my daughter: will a marriage, thus treacherously entered into, bring happiness with it?"

"Oh, you wicked man!" cried the dowager. "You would like to call a curse upon them."

"No," shuddered Dr. Ashton; "if a curse ever attends them, it will not be through any wish of mine. Lord Hartledon, I knew you as a boy; I have loved you as a son; and if I speak now, it is as your pastor, and for your own sake. This marriage looks very like a clandestine one, as though you were ashamed of the step you are taking, and dared not enter on it in the clear face of day. I would have you consider that this sort of proceeding does not usually bring a blessing with it."

If ever Val felt convicted of utter cowardice, he felt so then. All the wretched sophistry by which he had been beguiled into the step, by which he had beguiled himself; all the iniquity of his past conduct to Miss Ashton, rose up before his mind in its naked truth. He dared not reply to the doctor for very shame. A sorry figure he cut, standing there, Lady Maude beside him.

"The last time you entered my house, Lord Hartledon, it was to speak of your coming marriage with Anne--"

"And you would like him to go there again and arrange it," interrupted the incensed dowager, whose head had begun to nod so vehemently that she could not stop it. "Oh yes, I dare say!"

"By what right have you thus trifled with her?" continued the Rector, ignoring the nodding woman and her words, and confronting Lord Hartledon.

"Is it a light matter, think you, to gain a maiden's best love, and then to desert her for a fresh face? You have been playing fast-and-loose for some little time: and I gave you more than one opportunity of retiring, if you so willed it--of openly retiring, you understand; not of doing so in this secret, disreputable manner. Your conscience will p.r.i.c.k you in after-life, unless I am mistaken."

Val opened his lips, but the Rector put up his hand.

"A moment yet. That I am not endeavouring to recall Anne's claims on you in saying this, I am sure you are perfectly aware, knowing me as you do.

I never deemed you worthy of her--you know that, Lord Hartledon; and you never were so. Were you a free man at this moment, and went down on your knees to implore me to give you Anne, I would not do it. You have forfeited her; you have forfeited the esteem of all good men. But that I am a Christian minister, I should visit your dishonour upon you as you deserve."

"Will you cease?" raved the dowager; and Dr. Ashton wheeled round upon her.

"There is less excuse for your past conduct, madam, than for his. You have played on Lord Hartledon's known irresolution to mould him to your will. I see now the aim of the letter you favoured me with at Cannes, when you requested, with so much candour, that he might be left for a time unfettered by any correspondence with Miss Ashton. Well, you have obtained your ends. Your covetous wish that you and your daughter should reign at Hartledon is on the point of being gratified. The honour of marrying Lady Maude was intended both by you and her for the late Lord Hartledon. Failing him, you transferred your hopes to the present one, regardless of who suffered, or what hearts or honour might be broken in the process."