Of High Descent Part 59

"Louise, my child, unlock this door."

She made no reply, but stood with her hands clasped together, listening to the sharp voice and the quick tapping repeated on the panel. Both ceased after a few minutes, and Aunt Marguerite's door was heard to close loudly.

"I could not talk to her now," muttered the girl. "She makes me so angry. She was so insulting to Mr Leslie. But he deserved it," she said aloud, with her cheeks burning once more, and her eyes flashing, as she drew herself up. "My brother--a common thief--the man who injured Mr Van Heldre! It is not true."

She started violently and began to tremble, for there was a sharp pattering on her window-panes, as if some one had thrown a few small shot. Would Duncan Leslie dare to summon her like that? The pattering was repeated, and she went cautiously to the window, to make out in the gloom a figure that certainly was not that of Leslie.

She opened the cas.e.m.e.nt with nervous anxiety now.

"Asleep?" cried a hasty voice. "There, stand aside--I'm coming up."

There was a rustling noise--a sharp crack or two, a hand was thrown over the window-sill, and, panting with exertion, Harry clambered in.

"Harry!" cried Louise in alarm, for his acts, his furtive way of coming to the house, and his manifest agitation did not suggest innocence.

"Hush! Don't talk aloud. Where's the governor?"

"Father is at Mr Van Heldre's." Harry drew in a quick spasmodic breath. "And Aunt Marguerite?"

"In her room. But, Harry!"

"Be quiet. Don't talk. Let me get my breath."

Louise stood before him with her hands clasped, and a flow of agonising thoughts seeming to sweep her reason away. All was confusion, but above the flood there was one thing to which she clung--Harry was innocent.

In spite of everything in the way of appearance, he was innocent; nothing should turn her from that.

"Well," he said suddenly, "haven't you anything to say?"

There was a savage vindictive tone in his voice which startled her more than his previous threatening way.

"Yes; where have you been? Why do you come back like this?"

"Where have I been? Up on the cliffs, wandering about among the rocks, and hiding till it grew dark and I could come home. And why did I come home like this? You know. Of course you have heard."

"Mr Leslie came, and--"

"Mr Leslie!" cried Harry with a mocking laugh. "Save us from our friends."

Louise's sympathy swung round on the instant to the side of the attacked; and, hardly knowing what she said--

"Mr Leslie came to bear some terrible news, and to offer to help you."

"To help me!" cried Harry, with the eagerness of him who catches at straws. "And you--what did you say?"

"I said the information was false--a miserable invention. And I repeat it. Harry, it is not true?"

He made no reply for a few moments, while, sobbing and terrified, Louise clung to him.

"Harry," she said excitedly, "why do you not speak?"

"Don't talk to me," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "I'm thinking."

"But, Harry, I laugh at Aunt Marguerite's follies about descent and our degradation; but it is your duty to make a stand for our father's sake.

Who has dared to accuse you of all this?"

"Don't talk to me," he said in an angry whisper, as he ran to the window and listened, crossing the room directly after to try the door.

Louise gazed at him in a horrified way, and her heart sank down, down, as her brother's acts suggested the possibility of his guilt. Then, like a flash of light, a thought irradiated her darkening soul, and she caught her brother's arm.

"I know!" she cried.

"You--you know?"

"Yes, I see it all now; and why this charge has been made. It was Mr Pradelle."

"Pradelle!"

"And that is why he left so suddenly. Harry, my poor brother!"

"Let Pradelle be," he said huskily. "I'm not going to hide behind another man."

"Oh! But, Harry!"

"Look here," he said uneasily; "I want your help, and you do nothing but talk."

"I will be silent; but tell me it is not true."

"Do you want me to make matters worse by telling some paltry lie?" he said. "Yes; it is true."

"Harry!"

"No: not all true. I did not steal that money."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Louise; and she reeled to her bed, and would have fallen but for the post she grasped.

"I've no time to explain, but you must know. Yes; I did knock old Van Heldre down."

"Harry!" she groaned.

"And Crampton saw me come away; he has sent for the London police; and, unless I can get off, I shall be taken and tried."

Louise literally tottered towards him.

"No, no," he said angrily. "You are going to talk and preach. You don't want to see me disgracing you all by being cast in gaol?"

Disgracing them! Louise's first thought was of Duncan Leslie, and a pang of agony shot through her. How could she ever look him in the face again? A chill that seemed to paralyse shot through her. The hope that she had nursed was cast out, and her brother's word seemed to open out a future so desolate and blank that she turned upon him angrily.

"Harry!" she cried, "this is not--cannot be true." He paid no heed to her words, but stood biting his nails, evidently thinking, and at last he turned upon her like one at bay, as she said, after a painful pause, "You do not answer. Am I to believe all this? No, I cannot--will not believe it, Harry. It can't--it can't be true."