Rutledge Part 48

"Oh! Miss" (a little impatiently), "how particular you've grown! I thought you wouldn't mind the bit of blue, and it's _so_ late. The carriages have been coming this half hour."

"Well, no matter then. I'll go down."

Kitty preceded me, stealing an occasional look around, to ascertain that there was no one in sight, then beckoned me across the hall, hurried me down the private staircase and through a labyrinth of pantries, to a door that opened upon the shrubbery.

"This way," whispered Kitty. "Follow me."

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

"O purblind race of miserable men, How many among us at this very hour Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves By taking true for false, or false for true."

TENNYSON.

I followed Kitty down the dark paths of the shrubbery, and, as far as I could tell, through the dazzling gauze of my mask, some distance across the park.

"Where are you taking me? There is no need of such precaution."

"O yes, indeed," she answered eagerly, "if you had gone right around the house and gone in, they would have known in a minute that it was somebody who lived there. Mr. Wynkar and the captain were on the steps, watching. I saw them."

She hurried me on till we reached a clump of trees too far from the lamps suspended to the branches of those on the lawn to be lighted by them; then pausing, she looked quickly around.

"Are you not tired, Miss?" she said, raising her voice. "Hadn't you better rest a minute here? We walked so fast."

"No," I answered, with slight impatience. "I want to go immediately to the house."

"Yes, Miss," she said, uneasily. "Just wait till this carriage pa.s.ses."

It might have been fancy, but I thought I heard a step behind me, and starting forward, I called Kitty instantly to follow me. She could not but obey, and only left me where the lamps from the piazza threw too strong a light for her to venture. Whispering to me where I should find her if I wanted her during the evening, she slipped away, and I walked on.

The carriage reached the entrance, and the occupants of it alighted and disappeared within the awning before I arrived at it. There were several groups of masked figures on the piazza as I entered the inclosed walk from the carriageway, and, mounting the steps, approached the door.

"How spectral!" whispered one. "And look at that black shadow following so close."

I turned involuntarily at this; a black domino whom I had not perceived had entered with me, and I hurried forward into the house a little abruptly, to escape his companionship, and, crossing the brilliant and beautifully decorated hall, I entered the drawing-room. There was a temporary lull in the dancing, and I paused a moment to reconnoitre before I advanced to Mrs. Churchill. She was unmasked, and was to receive the guests; she stood at the other end of the room, and it was rather a formidable thing to cross to her, but remembering to disguise my step, I walked slowly and with some stateliness over to where she stood, made my devoirs, and turned away; but half a yard behind me was my black shadow. All eyes were upon us.

"What a ghostly pair!" exclaimed a vivacious peasant girl from the folding-doors. "I shall not be astonished if, when the masks are dropped at supper-time, a skeleton should step out of that black domino, and preside at the feast!"

"And a nymph of Lurley out of that white drapery," said "General Washington," approaching and offering me his arm. We made the tour of the rooms, admired the flowers, discussed the dresses, and tried to find each other out. I soon discovered my companion to be Mr. Emerson of the Grove, a fine, dignified old gentleman, whom I had always admired. His unconscious interest in, and admiration for, a tall brunette, whose black eyes sparkled even through her mask, betrayed her immediately to me as his daughter, Miss Janet Emerson. The Misses Mason were flower-girls of course; their mamma, by virtue of her literary proclivities and immense fund of sentiment, appeared as a sibyl, and told fortunes untiringly; the younger Mr. Mason wore an English hunting-dress, and the elder one escaped my observation among the crowd of greater strangers in the room. An Oxford student paid me marked attention, but discovering the unmistakable white eyelashes and feeble voice of my pet aversion, Ellerton Wynkar, I became discouragingly distant and severe, and he transferred his devotion to a pretty Greek dress, which I soon concluded must enshrine the indolent loveliness of my cousin Grace.

Beyond this, my penetration was entirely at fault; among the crowd of grotesque and graceful figures, I tried in vain to recognize any of our own party. There were half a dozen men of Phil's height, and as many of Mr. Rutledge's make; so many imitated the captain's military manner, that it was impossible to recognize the stork among the cranes. There were two Louis Quatorze costumes, that more than any others suggested Josephine and Ella, but I could not be positive; they were so exactly alike, that even when together one could not detect a shade of difference either in dress or manner. The powdered hair and masks, of course, concealed the diversity of color and complexion.

"Those two are the most distinguished-looking in the room," said General Washington, by way of small talk. "I suppose you have recognized them--Miss Churchill and her cousin."

"Which cousin?"

"The one who is engaged to the young Frenchman. Quite a pretty girl. I never saw her look so well as she does to-night."

"Which is Mr. Rutledge, do you know?" I asked.

"I have not made him out yet, but if you care to know the surest way will be to stay here, in the neighborhood of Miss Churchill: he will not be very far off!"

"Then let us sit here," and I sank down on a sofa.

"Your cavalier keeps a faithful watch upon your movements," said my companion. "He has followed you from room to room, and is just behind you now."

"Who is it that you mean?"

"The black domino--the gentleman who came with you."

And the black domino at that moment bent down, and, in a low, smothered voice, asked me if I would dance. I declined very quickly, and turned away my head.

"Miss Churchill, will you dance this set with me?" asked a gentleman, in French, approaching me.

Disguised as the voice was, there was something familiar in it. I gave him my hand, and we took our places at the head of the room. It very soon became evident that he had mistaken me for Miss Churchill, and I determined to keep up the character. It was not very difficult; we were exactly the same size, and I had always been a good mimic, so that, in five minutes, I was coquetting, twisting my fan, and taking off Josephine to the life. It was not so easy to find out who I was quizzing. He was evidently a master of the art of deception, disguised his voice, his step, his manner, and was never off his guard an instant.

He did not answer to anybody's description exactly, though I was constantly convinced, by his familiarity with us all, that he was "one of us." I tried to bait him with allusions to all our acquaintance, but he was too wary to rise to any of them.

"How did you find me out so easily?" I said, with a laugh so like Josephine's that I was absolutely startled myself. "I thought I was disguised beyond all detection."

"Not from me."

"Ah, you are so clever!" I said, putting my head on one side, with an affectation characteristic of Josephine. "Now help me to discover some of the others. Who is our vis-a-vis in the Spanish dress?"

"_You_ should not have to ask."

"_Mais qui?_"

"Mr. Arbuthnot, _sans doute_."

"Ah! my heart should have told me Phil! Which is the captain?"

"'Ivanhoe,' there by the door, talking with the 'Father of his Country.'"

"And oh! tell me, for I am dying to know, have you found out my cousin?"

"I do not think she is in the room."

"Impossible! Then she must be ill."

"Indifferent, more probably."

"Ah! perhaps. 'There is but one with whom she has heart to be gay!' But has n.o.body been up to see what has become of her?"

"No one, I fancy."