Roland Cashel Volume I Part 36

"No more than what the French call '_amabilite_,' my Lord, which, like the famed armor of Milan is not the less defensive that it is so beautiful in all its details."

"Well, then, I 'll not send the note," said Lord Kilgoff, as he took up the letter, and tearing it, threw the fragments into the fire; "of course, Linton, this conversation is strictly confidential?"

"Your Lordship has never found me unworthy of such a trust."

"Never; nor, I must say, would it be for your advantage to become so."

Linton bit his lip, and for a second or two seemed burning to make a rejoinder; but overcoming the temptation, a.s.sumed his careless smile, and said,--

"I leave you, my Lord, greatly gratified that chance led me to pay this visit. I sincerely believe, that in the counsels I have offered, I have at least been able to be of service to you."

Lord Kilgoff presented his hand in acknowledgment of the speech, but it was accorded with an air which seemed to say, "Well, here is a receipt in full for your devotedness."

Linton took it in the same spirit, and left the room, as though deeply impressed with all the honor he enjoyed in such a n.o.ble friendship.

Hastening down the stairs, he sprang into the saddle of his horse, and cantering up the street, turned towards the road which leads to the Phoenix Park. It was about the hour when the equipages were wont to throng that promenade, but Linton did not seem desirous of joining that gay crowd, for he took a cross-path through the fields, and after a sharp ride of half-an-hour, reached a low paling which skirted the park on the eastward; here, at a small cottage kept by one of the rangers, a little door led in, pa.s.sing through which he found himself in one of the long green alleys of that beautiful tract. A boy, who seemed to be ready waiting, now took his horse, and Linton entered the wood and disappeared. He did not proceed far, however, within the shady copse, for after going a short distance he perceived a carriage standing in the lane, by the door of which a footman waited, with a shawl upon his arm.

The coachman, with his whip posed, sat talking with his fellow-servant, so that Linton saw that the carriage had no occupant.

He now hastened along, and speedily emerging at a little gra.s.sy opening of the wood, came in sight of a lady walking at some distance in front.

The fashionable air and splendid dress, which might have suited the most brilliant promenade of a great city, seemed strange in such a lone, unvisited spot. Linton lost no time in overtaking her, only diminishing his speed as he came closer, when, with his hat removed, and in an att.i.tude of the most humble deference, he said,--

"Pray let me stand excused if I am somewhat behind my time; the fault was not my own."

"Oh, say nothing about it," said a soft musical voice, and Lady Kilgoff turned an easy smile towards him. "'Qui s'excuse, s'accuse,' says the French proverb, and I never dreamt of the accusation. Is it not a lovely day here?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: 213]

Linton was too much piqued to answer at once, but recovering, he said, "Without seeking to apologize for an absence that was not felt, let me return to the subject. I a.s.sure your Ladyship that I had been detained by Lord Kilgoff, who was pleased to bestow a more than ordinary share of his confidence upon me, and even condescended to ask my counsel."

"How flattering! Which you gave, I hope, with all the sincerity for which you are famous."

Linton tried to smile, but not very successfully.

"What, then, was this wonderful mystery? Not the representative peerage, I trust; I 'm sure I hope that question is at rest forever."

"You are quite safe there,--he never mentioned it."

"Oh, then it was his diplomatic ambition,--ain't I right? Ah, I knew it; I knew it How very silly, or how very wicked you must be, Mr. Linton, to encourage these daydreams,--you who have not the excuse of hallucinations, who read the book of life as it is written, without fanciful interpretations!"

"I certainly must disclaim your paneygric. I had one hallucination, if so you term it,--it was that you wished, ardently wished, for the position which a foreign 'mission' bestows. A very natural wish, I freely own, in one so worthy in every way to grace and adorn it."

"Well, so I did some time back, but I 've changed my mind. I don't think I should like it; I have been reconsidering the subject."

"And your Ladyship inclines now rather to seclusion and rural pleasures; how fortunate that I should have been able to serve your interests there also."

"What do you mean?" said she, with a stare, while a deep scarlet suffused her cheek.

"I alluded to a country visit which you fancied might be made so agreeably, but which his Lordship had the bad taste to regard less favorably."

"Well, sir, you did not presume to give any opinion?"

"I really did. I had all the hardihood to brave Lord Kilgoff's most fixed resolves. You were aware that he declined Mr. Cashel's invitation?"

She nodded, and he went on,--

"Probably, too, knowing the reasons for that refusal?"

"No, sir; the matter was indifferent to me, so I never troubled my head about it. My Lord said we shouldn't go, and I said, 'Very well,' and there it ended."

Now, although this was spoken with a most admirably feigned indifference, Linton was too shrewd an observer not to penetrate the deception.

"I am doubly unlucky this day," said he, at last, "first to employ all my artifices to plan a ministerial success to which you are actually averse, and secondly, to carry a point to which you are indifferent."

"Dare I ask, if the question be not an indiscreet one, what peculiar interest Mr. Linton can have, either in our acceptance or refusal of this invitation?"

"Have I not said that I believed you desired it?" replied he, with a most meaning look.

"Indeed you read inclinations most skilfully, only that you interpret them by antic.i.p.ation."

"This is too much," said Linton, in a voice whose pa.s.sionate earnestness showed that all dissimulation was at an end, "far too much! The genteel comedy that we play before the world, madam, might be laid aside for a few moments here. When I asked for this interview, and you consented to give it--"

"It was on the express stipulation that you should treat me as you do in society, sir," broke she in--"that there should be no attempt to fall back upon an intimacy which can never be resumed."

"When I promised, I intended to have kept my word, Laura," said he, in deep dejection; "I believed I could have stifled the pa.s.sion that consumes me, and talked to you in the words of sincere, devoted friendship, but I cannot. Old memories of once happiness, brought up too vividly by seeing you, as I used to see you, when in many a country walk we sauntered on, dreaming of the time when, mine, by every tie of right, as by affection--"

"How you requited that affection, Linton!" said she, in a tone whose deep reproach seemed actually to stun him. Then suddenly changing to an air of disdainful anger, she continued: "You are a bold man, Linton.

I thought it would be too much for even _your_ hardihood to recur to a theme so full of humiliation for yourself; but I know your theory, sir: you think there is a kind of heroism in exaggerated baseness, and that it is no less great to transcend men in crime than in virtue. You dare to speak of an affection that you betrayed and bartered for money."

"I made you a peeress, madam. When you were Laura Gardiner, you couldn't have spoken to me as now you speak."

"If I consented to the vile contract, it was that, when I discovered your baseness, any refuge was preferable to being the wife of one like you!"

"A most complimentary a.s.surance, not only to myself, but his Lordship,"

said Linton, with an insolent smile.

"Now, hear me," said she, not noticing the taunt, but speaking with a voice of deep collected earnestness. "It is in vain to build upon time or perseverance--the allies you trust so deeply--to renew the ties broken forever. If I had no other higher and more sustaining motive, my knowledge of you would be enough to rescue me from this danger. I know you well, Linton. You have often told me what an enemy you could be.

This, at least, I believe of all that you have ever sworn! I have a full faith, too, in your ingenuity and skill; and yet I would rather brave both--ay, both hate and craft--than trust to what you call your honor."

"You do indeed know me well, Laura," said he, in a voice broken and faltering, "or you never had dared to speak such words to me. There is not one breathing could have uttered them and not pay the penalty, save yourself. I feel in my inmost heart how deeply I have wronged you, but is not my whole life an atonement for the wrong? Am I not heartbroken and wretched, without a hope or a future? What greater punishment did any one ever incur than to live in the daily sight and contemplation of a bliss that his own folly or madness have forever denied him; and yet, to that same suffering do I cling, as the last tie that binds me to existence. To see you in the world, to watch you, to mark the effect your grace and beauty are making on all around you--how every fascination calls up its tribute of admiration--how with each day some new excellence develops itself, till you seem inexhaustible in all the traits of graceful womanhood, this has been the cherished happiness of my life! It was to this end I labored to induce the acceptance of that invitation that once more, beneath the same roof, I should see you for days long. Your own heart must confess how I have never before the world forgotten the distance that separates us. There is, then, no fear that I should resign every joy that yet remains to me for any momentary indulgence of speaking to you as my heart feels. No, no, Laura, you have nothing to dread either from my hate or my love."

"To what end, then, was it that you asked me to meet you here to-day?"

said she, in a voice in which a touch of compa.s.sionate sorrow was blended.

"Simply to entreat, that if I should succeed in persuading his Lordship to accept this visit, you would throw no obstacle in the way on your side."

"And if I consent, shall I have no cause to rue my compliance?"

"So far as depends on me, none, on my honor!"