Heiress of Haddon Part 44

"I am forgetting my errand, though," exclaimed the deputy-governor, "I have a visitor for thee."

Edmund quailed. He was not in the habit of receiving visitors, for he had few friends and many enemies, therefore the announcement gave him very little pleasure.

"For me?" he said, in a tone of unmistakable surprise, and equally unmistakable displeasure.

"Aye, for thee," Sir Ronald replied. "Shall I bring him to you?"

"Bring him down here?" screamed Edmund, aghast at the very idea. "No, never."

"You will come up to him, then? It makes no matter!"

"I am too busy," he evasively replied. "Tell me, Ronald, who it is."

"'Tis a friend."

"Humph! He has heard of my elixir and wants--ah, well, I shall have friends enough now, I'll warrant me."

"He is an enemy of Sir George Vernon, then," added the knight.

"Hey! Bring him down, then," said the alchemyst. "I will meet him outside the room."

"Well, Master John Manners will be down by and bye. Lady Bury meanwhile is entertaining him, for he was hungry."

Edmund started.

"Manners, John Manners!" he exclaimed. "Nay, then, bring him not hither. Does he know that I am here?"

"Aye, I have told him."

"You have!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Edmund, in a frenzy of terror. "I met him at Haddon, he is a friend of the baron's."

"He was," replied his friend; "but things have changed, and now he is like to invoke thy aid. He will help us to have our revenge, maybe, for I have been persuading him; he is very bitter now against the Vernons, and will make thee a good accomplice."

"Revenge," murmured Edmund, "ha! revenge is sweet. The baron shall be punished; my machine--"

"Never mind the machine now," broke in Sir Ronald, who was by no means anxious to listen to the well-worn rigmarole again. "You can show that to him, and tell him all about it. I shall bring him down, for he knows not the way."

"Well, I will yield to thee; do as you list," he replied, and the man of science turned his back abruptly upon his friend, and vigorously stirred the seething liquid which was beginning to boil over upon the fire.

In a few minutes Manners appeared, but Sir Ronald Bury had brought him purposely with so little noise that the alchemyst was not aware of his presence, and for a long time they stood in the doorway, and watched his movements.

He was talking to himself, as he often did. It was a habit into which he had unconsciously fallen. He had persuaded himself to think that the great posterity for which he laboured so hard could hear him, and in his isolation the reflection was a great consolation to him.

"Ha, ha," he muttered, "thou hast had thy little day, Sir George Vernon. 'King of the Peak,' indeed--thy reign is o'er. And Margaret, proud Margaret, and the haughty Lady Maude, aha! You shall all tremble at my name."

"Hist, move thee not," whispered Sir Ronald, "he is, about to test his engine again; it blows off sparks of fire as if it were the smithy's forge, but without the noise. I have seen him perform with it often.

Hark."

Edmund had brought out his engine from a deep recess in the wall, and a rough, unsightly piece of mechanism it was. It was intended to be square, but constant testings and trials had caused it to a.s.sume more the appearance of an octagon, and as the sides had thus bulged out, the bands which had held the instrument together became loosened and untrustworthy.

Edmund surveyed it affectionately. It was the offspring of his genius, and he blindly disregarded all its little imperfections amid the great love he bore towards it.

"Aha," he murmured, "thou art done, thou art ready now. Thou art an angel of death, and thou"--turning to his elixir--"thou art an angel of life."

"Mix them up, Nathan, mix them up," gaily exclaimed Manners as he stepped into the room. "We will give the Vernons a dose."

Edmund was startled, and he hastily retreated to his engine to protect it.

"Avaunt!" he cried, "touch it not."

"Nay, I want not to injure it," returned the other, whose smile contrasted with the alchemyst's scowl. "Shake hands, man; I will do thee no harm."

"Beware," cried Edmund, distrustfully, as he covered over the angel.

"Beware!"

"Edmund, thou speakest over rashly," interposed Sir Ronald. "Master Manners would honour thee, and thou treatest him so lightly. Together you may accomplish your designs and work whatever you will; the past--"

"Is buried with its forefathers and forgotten," quickly exclaimed Manners. "Come, I greet thee on equal terms. I would be thy friend."

Edmund shook the proffered hand as though it were a bar of red-hot iron he had been commanded to hold, or a phial of his precious elixir he was carrying, and he felt by no means flattered at the reference to their equality, just as if he, too, had discovered such mighty secrets.

"I shall not want for friends soon, forsooth; the great have ever many," he replied.

Manners laughed.

"Thou hast few enough as yet, I'll warrant, besides thy good friend, Sir Ronald," he exclaimed. "I trow you cannot well afford to turn the first comers away, Nathan."

"I can do all with my elixir," was the proud response.

"Sir Ronald Bury tells me thou hast prepared this engine for Sir George," said Manners, abruptly changing the topic of the conversation. "Is that so?"

"Aha, for Sir George Vernon, yes."

"Can'st thou direct it against the Stanleys, too? I would have them punished if we could."

"Thou art a friend of his," said Edmund, suspiciously, referring to the baron.

"Albeit I seek revenge, justice, anything!" he said bitterly. "I have been spurned away from his door like as I had been a dog."

Edmund looked at him incredulously. He was not convinced yet.

"If you mean no treachery," he said cautiously, "call me by my name, for I am Edmund Wynne. I like not to bethink me of the past until--,"

and he approvingly looked at his instrument of death.

"Until what?"

"Ha, I will show thee," replied Edmund. "Stand not too near."

Manners had not much faith in the destructive properties of the instrument, but the command was given in such an earnest and authoritative fashion that to have refused compliance would only have caused offence. Probably, too, Edmund would not try the experiment if he expressed his scepticism, and he was curious to see it, so he retreated to the doorway to watch his movements.