King of the Castle Part 94

Trevithick had slept there the previous night, and was the only guest, for Doctor Asher had declined to be present, on the score of professional calls.

"I'm afraid there is very little chance of its holding up," said Trevithick, when they rose from the scarcely-touched breakfast.

"No, Mr Trevithick," said Claude quietly. "I think we shall have a very wet day. Mary, dear, we must take our waterproofs. It is fifty yards from the lych-gate to the church door. Isn't it time we went up to dress?"

She moved towards the door, but came back, and held out her hand to the lawyer.

"Forgive me for being so absent and strange with you," she said, with a faint smile. "You have been very good and kind to me, but I dare say you think all this odd and unnatural."

"Oh, no; not at all," said Trevithick, colouring like a girl.

"It was the only thing in which I asked to have my way--to let the wedding be perfectly quiet. Don't be long, Mary."

Trevithick looked at his little betrothed as the door closed, and she looked up at him.

"I say, Mary, dear," he said, "is she quite--you know what I mean. I feel almost as if I ought to interfere."

"Oh, John, John," cried the little thing, bursting into a pa.s.sionate fit of weeping; "if we could only stop it even now!"

She sobbed on his breast for a few seconds, and then hastily wiped her eyes.

"There, I'm better now," she said. "I've talked to her till I'm tired, but it's of no use. 'It's my _duty_' is all she will say. Oh! why did people ever invent the horrid word. Don't say anything, John, dear.

Let's get it over, and hope for the best; but if there's any chance of our wedding being like this, let's shake hands like Christians, forgive one another, and say good-bye."

She ran out of the room, and Trevithick sat watching the rain trickle down the window-panes, and tried to follow the course of a big ship struggling up Channel, its storm topsails dimly seen through the mist of rain.

"I wouldn't be on that ship for all I've saved," he said, shaking his head. "Looks as if there was going to be a wreck.

"So there is," he said, after a pause, "a social wreck, and I'm going to a.s.sist. No, I'm not. I'm looking after the salvage. Poor girl!

Gartram must have been mad."

His meditations were broken in upon by the sound of wheels.

Half-an-hour later the door was thrown open.

"Now, Mr Trevithick, please," said Mary; and he hurried into the hall to find Claude ready and looking very calm and composed.

"Good-bye," she was saying to first one and then another of the maids, who, catching the contagion, burst into tears.

"As if it wasn't wet enough already," said Reuben Brime, who stood with the footman by the carriage-door.

"Good-bye, Woodham, dear," said Claude, holding out her hand, but s.n.a.t.c.hing it back directly as she yielded to a sudden impulse, and threw her arms around the stern-looking woman's neck. "Thank you for all that you have done."

"Good-bye! Why did she say good-bye?" thought Woodham, as Trevithick handed the bride into the carriage, the drops from the edge of the portico falling like great tears upon her hair. "Yes: good-bye to youth and happiness and your sweet young life."

The carriage-door was banged, and banged again, for the wet had made it hard to shut. Then, as the footman mounted to his place on the box, the gardener hurried round in front of the horses, and ran for the short cut over the cliffs to the church.

"Shouldn't you go, Mrs Woodham?" said one of the maids.

Sarah Woodham shook her head.

"They will soon be back," she said. "I'm going to stay to meet the new master."

"Why does not something happen to stop this hateful match?" she muttered to herself. "My poor girl. My poor, dear girl."

The carriage sped on through the driving rain, and the little party descended at the church gate, where a few fishermen were gathered in their yellow and black oilskins to follow them, dripping, into the little church, while it seemed to Claude that it was only the other day that her father was borne to his resting-place. And there they were, standing face to face before G.o.d's altar, she pale, sad and composed, having to give her whole love and life to the pale trembling man who faced her, and who, though she knew it not, exhaled a strong odour of the spirits he had taken to enable him to go through the task.

But Claude saw nothing, realised nothing but the words of the clergyman, repeating every response in a low, earnest tone right on to the end, when, as the last words of the service was uttered, there was the sound of some one drawing a long, deep breath.

It was only Gellow's way of congratulating himself on the fact that his money and much more were safe at last.

"Now!" he muttered, as he hugged himself. "Now you may have _DT_, or anything you like."

The book was signed, and the few fishermen and women who had braved the storm began to go clattering out of the church as Glyddyr, making an effort to look happy and content, held his arm to his newly-made bride to lead her down the little nave.

"Father, dear, it was your wish," said Claude softly, and, with a sigh, she raised her eyes towards the faint light which came through the west window.

Then she stopped short, gazing wildly at where Chris Lisle stood like a black silhouette against the dim lattice panes, as he had stood with folded arms right through the service.

He made no sign; he uttered no sound, his features hardly visible from the position against the light; but the sight of that figure was enough to bring like a flood the recollections of the past, and of what might have been, but for her irrevocable step; and, s.n.a.t.c.hing her hand from her husband's arm, Claude clasped her forehead as she uttered a low, faint cry, and fell heavily upon the floor.

"Keep back, all of you!" cried Glyddyr excitedly. "Do you hear, keep back. The carriage, there. Do you hear me? Keep back!"

He lifted Claude from where she lay, and bore her out, holding her tightly in his arms, as if he feared that she might be s.n.a.t.c.hed away by him who had caused this shock.

"Curse him!" he muttered, as the carriage was driven back to the Fort at a canter; "but he's too late. The dark horse has won, Chris Lisle, and the stakes are mine."

Claude was still insensible when the carriage stopped, and Glyddyr resigned her to Sarah Woodham's arms.

"A bit faint, that's all," he said, with a half laugh. "She'll be better soon."

"You--you are married, sir?" faltered the woman, looking at him wildly.

"You bet!" he snarled, as he turned away, and strode into the library, but came back looking ghastly and slamming the door. "Here, some one bring the spirits into the dining-room; not in there. Quick! don't you see your mistress is taken ill?"

"Open the door," whispered Woodham; "we'll take her in there."

"No; in the dining-room--anywhere," cried Glyddyr. "Don't take her there.

"And this is being married!" he muttered, as soon as he was alone. "The cad! The coward! But I've bested him, and I'm a free man once again, and master here."

They had carried Claude into the dining-room; and, hardly caring where he went, Glyddyr had entered the drawing-room, thrown to the door, and was walking hurriedly up and down, till, as he uttered the last words, his eyes fell upon the large photograph of Gartram.

He stopped short, with his eyes showing a ring of white about the iris, and the cold sweat glistening upon his forehead till the spasm of dread pa.s.sed away. Then dashing forward, he was about to tear the likeness from its easel and frame, but the door was suddenly opened, and he recovered himself, and turned to face Trevithick and his best man, for he had not heard the wheels as the second carriage stopped.

Volume Three, Chapter XV.

"ONLY WAIT."

The occupants of the Fort were broken up into little parties on that eventful day. Claude seemed to go from one fit into another, and her cousin and Sarah Woodham did not leave her side.