Only One Love, or Who Was the Heir Part 23

"Go indoors, Una, to your mother," he said quietly.

Una rose, and after a momentary glance at each of their faces, went inside. Stephen opened and held the door for her, then closed it and came back to the others.

"Mother," he said, "Mr. Rolfe and I have made our arrangements, and he agrees with me that it would be wiser, now that the news is broken to Miss Rolfe, for her to accompany you back to town this afternoon."

Mrs. Davenant nodded, and glanced timidly at Gideon's stern face.

"We have won Mrs. Rolfe over to our side, and she is already making the few preparations necessary for Miss Rolfe's journey."

Gideon Rolfe inclined his head as if to corroborate this, then he said:

"Will you come inside, madam, and partake of some refreshment?"

"I would rather wait here. Mr. Rolfe, I hope you feel that, in trusting your daughter to my charge, that she will at least have a happy home, if I can make one for her?"

"That I believe, madam."

"Yes, I have quite convinced Mr. Rolfe that the change will be beneficial to Miss Rolfe, and that she will be taken every care of. I suppose you are quite old friends already, eh, mother?"

"I think she is a beautiful girl whom one could not help loving,"

murmured Mrs. Davenant.

Half an hour pa.s.sed, and then Una and Martha came out. Una was pale to the lips, the other was red-eyed with weeping, and her tears broke out afresh when Mrs. Davenant shook hands with her and a.s.sured her that her daughter should be happy.

"Thank you, ma'am," said Martha. "It's what I said would come to pa.s.s.

Gideon couldn't expect to keep her shut up here, like a bird in a cage, forever and a day. It was against reason, but it is so sudden," and her sobs broke into her speech and stopped her.

Mrs. Davenant's eyes were wet, and she glanced at Stephen, half inclined to postpone the journey; but Gideon Rolfe had called the carriage to the door, and the box was already on the seat.

With the same set calm which he had maintained throughout, Gideon took Una in his arms, held her for a moment and whispering, "Remember, wherever you are I am watching over you!" put her in the carriage in which Stephen had already placed his mother.

He, too, had a word to whisper. It was also a reminder.

"Remember, mother, not another word of the past. Her life begins from today."

Then he looked at his watch, and said aloud:

"You will just have time to catch the train. Good-bye."

With the most dutiful affection, he kissed his mother, then went round, and, bare-headed, offered his hand to Una.

"Good-bye, Miss Rolfe," he said. "You are now starting on a new life. No one, not even your father, can more devoutly wish you the truest and fullest happiness than I do."

Una, half-blinded with her tears, put her hand in his; but almost instantly drew it away, with something like a shudder. It was cold as ice.

The next moment the carriage started, and the two men were left alone.

For fully a minute they stood looking at it, till it had been swallowed up by the shadows of the trees; then Gideon turned, his face white and working.

"Stephen Davenant," he said, in slow, measured tones, "one word with you before we part. You have gained your end--be what it may; I say for your sake, let it be for good; for if it be for evil, you have one to deal with who will not hold his hand to punish and avenge. Rather than let her know the heritage of shame which hangs over her, I have let her go.

If you value your safety, guard her, for at your hands I require her happiness and well being."

Stephen's face paled, but the smile struggled to its accustomed place.

"My dear Mr. Rolfe," he began, but Gideon stopped him with a gesture.

"Enough. I set no value on your word. There is no need for further speech between us. From this hour our roads lie apart. Take yours, and leave me mine."

"This is very sad. Well, well; as you say, I have gained my end, but, as I would rather put it, I have done my duty, and I must bear your ungrounded suspicions patiently. Good-bye, my dear sir--good-bye."

"I have sworn never to touch the hand of a Davenant in friendship," he said, grimly. "There lies your path"--and he pointed to the Wermesley road--"mine is here, for the present."

And with a curt nod, he turned toward the cottage.

With a gentle sigh and shake of the head, Stephen, after lingering for a moment, as if he hoped that Gideon's heart might be softened, turned and entered the wood.

Once in the shadow and out of sight, the smile disappeared, and left his face careworn, restless and anxious.

"Fate favors me," he muttered. "That boor knows--guesses--nothing of the truth. I never thought to get the girl out of his clutches so easily!

Now she is under my watch and ken--I hold her in my hand. But--but"--he mused, his lips twitching, his eyes moving restlessly to and fro--"what shall I do with her? Beautiful--she is lovely! How long will she escape notice in London? Someone will see her--some hot-headed fool--and fall in love. She might marry. Ah!"

And he stooped amongst the brakes and ferns, and looked up, with a sudden, dull-red flush on his pale cheek, a bright glitter in his light eyes, while a thought ran like lightning through his cunning brain.

"Marry her! Why--why should not I?"

An answer came quickly enough in the remembrance of the pale dark face of Laura Treherne, the girl to whom he was pledged.

But with a gesture of impatience he swept the obtrusive remembrance aside.

"Why not?" he muttered. "Then, at one stroke, I should secure myself. By Heaven--I will! I will!"

So elated was he by the thought that he stopped and leaned against a tree and took off his hat, allowing the cool breezes to play upon his white forehead.

"Beautiful, and the real heiress of Hurst Leigh," he muttered. "Why should I not? By one stroke I should make myself secure, and set that cursed will at defiance, let it be where it may! I will! I will!" he repeated, setting his teeth; then, as he put on his hat, he smiled pitifully and murmured:

"Poor Laura, poor Laura!"

CHAPTER XIV.

Una saw her last of Warden Forest through a mist of tears; while a tree remained in sight her face was turned toward it, and in silence she bade farewell to the leafy world in which her life had pa.s.sed with so much uneventfulness--in silence listened to the soughing of the breeze that seemed to voice her a sad good-bye.

Her companion sat in silence, too, holding the soft, warm hand which clung to hers with an eloquent supplication for protection and sympathy.

But youth and tears are foes who cannot abide long together, and by the time the little railway village of Wermesley was reached, Una's eyes were full of interest and curiosity.