Heiress of Haddon Part 50

Down the slope she ran, nor did she stop until she found herself clasped in the fond embrace of her lover, upon the footbridge.

"My darling," murmured Manners, "thou art come at last. G.o.d bless thee, my love," and he kissed the tear-stained face over and over again.

"I am ready, John," she murmured; "but quick, hasten! our start will be short, for they will mark my absence soon."

Bestowing another shower of kisses upon her, Manners led her across the narrow bridge. How gaily the water danced and sparkled and made melody amongst the stones! How the wind sighed sweetly and whispered among the trees, and how the strains of music and the sounds of revelry sounded through the open windows of the Hall. But of all the sounds that Manners heard there was none which thrilled him so much, or caused him so much happiness, as the sound of Dorothy's dress as it rustled against the walls of the narrow bridge when they pa.s.sed through.

Once on the other side there was no delay. The horses were in waiting, and seizing the bridle of one, Manners helped Dorothy to mount into the saddle, and then lightly springing into another, he set spurs to his steed and away they started.

The most sequestered roads were chosen, for they wished to see as few people as possible, and to be seen by none. But Manners did not trust to this alone. He felt the preciousness of his charge, and had brought horses and men with him, whom he sent off in couples by different roads, to lead their pursuers on a false scent if pursuit were made.

All through the night they rode. Scenes which charmed them before they now pa.s.sed by unnoticed, and their grandeur was ignored. Ma.s.son's heights, up which they had often wandered together, instilled no pleasant thoughts within their b.r.e.a.s.t.s now; their one object, which engrossed all their attention, was to hasten forward to gain a haven of safety.

As the grey light of the morning broke upon them, and the rising sun began to make its appearance, they crossed the border, and pa.s.sed out of the county of Derby into the neighbouring shire of Leicester. Still they pushed on, for there was no telling how soon their pursuers might be upon them; nor did they draw rein until well into the morning, when, though Dorothy, animated for the time being with a wonderful amount of endurance, gave her voice for hastening forward, Manners deemed it advisable, for her sake, to stay.

They stopped their steeds at a wayside inn, but here so unusual a sight as two travellers on horseback--one a maiden of surpa.s.sing beauty, clothed in rare and costly silks, and the other a gallant young knight--soon caused a little crowd of curious rustics to congregate around the house.

"Poor lady," exclaimed one tender-hearted matron, as she watched Dorothy dismount. "She is of gentle blood; just see how weary she looks."

"Didst ever see the likes of such a riding dress afore?" asked her neighbour, as she eyed Doll's dress admiringly.

"Beshrew me," added an onlooker of the sterner s.e.x, "'tis a runaway match, I'll warrant me. These horses are ridden to death."

Neither Dorothy nor Manners was disposed to stay any longer than was necessary amid such a curious people, and after partaking of a good breakfast, and indulging in a little rest, they started on their way again, with a fresh relay of horses.

This time they never stopped until they rode up to the little church, within which the shivering clergyman sat, anxiously awaiting the couple whom he had engaged to marry.

He was ignorant of the plot, and though he might have guessed it pretty well, he was by no means anxious to lose by over-inquisitiveness the handsome fee which the young man had promised. He only chafed at their delay, and when at length they arrived and entered the sacred edifice he proceeded straightway with the service, quite as anxious to get it over, so that he might partake of his breakfast, as were the couple before him, and almost as quickly as they could have wished.

"Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?" said the parson, as he gabbled on with the service.

"Aye, I will!" responded Manners, in a clear ringing voice which was echoed among the rafters of the roof, and he took her to his bosom and sealed the pledge with a kiss--a proceeding so unusual and peculiar that the good clergyman opened his eyes and mouth, until finally he came to a full stop.

"I will!" repeated Manners, addressing the parson, "but why do you stop?" and he looked suspiciously behind to see if his pursuers had come to rob him of his prize. There was no one there, however, save a few rustics, who, prompted by sheer curiosity, had entered the church and stood lingering just within the sacred portal, and in a few minutes more the lovers emerged from the little church, safely joined together in the bonds of holy wedlock, followed by the parson, who wore a smiling face, inasmuch as he had been rewarded with a gift far beyond his utmost expectations. But the two lovers were far happier than he, and with the certificate of marriage, signed, sealed, and entered in the register, they remounted their steeds and proceeded at a steady pace to Nottingham Castle, where, the Earl of Rutland having unexpectedly returned, he extended a right hearty welcome to his nephew and his beautiful bride.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

PEACE AT LAST.

Nor was she to be found! Her father cried, "'Tis but to make a trial of his love!"

And filled his gla.s.s to all, but his hand shook, And soon from guest to guest the panic spread.

ROGERS.

Still at Haddon the fun maintained its uproarious course, and amid the whirl of festivity Dorothy's absence was not remarked.

Sir Edward Stanley was far too elated with the vision of success which had opened out before him to bore Dorothy with his presence on this occasion, but in spite of this he rarely let his eyes depart from watching her.

"Hi, Sir Edward," cried an inquisitive old dame from one of the deep window recesses. "Hither, good knight, for I would talk with thee awhile."

He could not very well resist such a direct appeal, but he took his seat beside her unwillingly enough.

"I hear, Sir Edward," confidentially began the dame, "that in a month you are to wed Mistress Dorothy Vernon; is that so?"

"It is," he replied, curtly.

"You are a lucky knight, then," she replied, "for, except my Isabel, Dorothy is the fairest maiden I have ever clapt eyes on. But then, Isabel, forsooth, is not so rich. We cannot all be Vernons, you know, though if everybody had their deserts we--"

"Yes, I trow that she is rich and fair; but for neither of these do I care so much as her love," gallantly responded Stanley.

"Tut, now, Sir Edward," pursued his tormentor, "both you and I know full well that people marry for riches and rank, not for beauty. You marry for riches, I suppose, and she for rank. Now, sir knight, am I not right?" she asked triumphantly.

"Nay, my lady, you are far from it. You will excuse me now, I am sure; I am promised a dance with Dorothy shortly," and he got up and departed, glad to get away so quickly, and deaf to her entreaty to return.

His temper was ruffled, and he walked away to look for his partner, to lose his irritation in the sunshine of her company.

But Dorothy was nowhere to be seen.

He paced up and down the length of the room, chafing at her absence, and peering into every corner and recess as he wandered along. The dining-room and banqueting-hall were searched equally in vain, and at last the baffled lover concluded that she had retired for a little rest.

He waited, irritated not a little at the long delay. His eye scanned each pa.s.sing figure again and again, and rigorously searched each group, but it was all "love's labour lost;" Dorothy could not be found; and finally, unable any longer to control the forebodings of his suspicious heart, he hastened to the baron and acquainted him with all his fears.

"Tush, man," replied Sir George gaily; "maybe she is feeling somewhat out of sorts, or happen she is tired. Margaret!" he called, as the newly-married maiden was pa.s.sing along, "do thou seek for Dorothy, my Lady Stanley. Thy new brother, Sir Edward, is jealous of her absence."

"Ah, prithee do, good Margaret," added that unhappy knight. "Her absence just at this time bodes no good, I fear, and makes me feel uneasy."

"She shall be here soon," replied Lady Stanley, and she went away to seek the truant sister, leaving her husband to beguile the tediousness of the time by engaging in conversation with his brother. Sir Thomas was in high glee, and could find no sympathy with the miserable forebodings of his younger brother.

"I tell thee what, Edward," he said, "thou must let her have more freedom. You are too rash; you must be astute an you would succeed.

Dorothy is drawn by affection, not driven by ill words or sour looks.

It had been better for thee, I trow, an thou hadst not pressed for the marriage so soon; but thou hast done it now."

"Lady Maude advised me in it, and I cannot say I repent it now, though my heart does misgive ever and again," he replied.

"That John Manners," continued the elder Stanley, "is a good enough man, a likely fellow, and would have done well for Dorothy; aye, and had not you been in the way, he would have won her, too. Thou art no match for him, Edward; thou art too impatient."

Edward hung down his head, and gazed uncomfortably upon the floor. He was conscious of the truth of his brother's statement, and could not well refute it. He paused in silence, hoping that the subject would be pursued no further.

"Here comes Margaret," he said, lifting up his head and feeling mightily relieved that the awkward pause had come to an end; but sorely dismayed to see no Dorothy following behind.

"Where is she?--she has gone!" he almost screamed as he saw the look of consternation on her face.

"I cannot find her," Margaret replied, addressing herself to Sir Thomas. "I have searched her rooms, but all in vain; and no one knows aught of her, no one has seen her."

"Said I not so?" furiously exclaimed Sir Edward. "She has gone; the bird has flown."