Thelma Part 35

"I have it!" he exclaimed. "That old hag Lovisa is at the bottom of this!"

"By Jove!" cried Errington. "I believe you're right! What shall we do?"

At that moment, Lorimer, Duprez, and Macfarlane came on the scene, thinking they had kept aloft long enough,--and the strange disappearance of the two girls was rapidly explained to them. They listened astonished and almost incredulous, but agreed with the _bonde_ as to Lovisa's probable share in the matter.

"Look here!" said Lorimer excitedly. "I'm not in the least tired,--show me the way to Talvig, where that old screech-owl lives, and I'll go there straight as a gun! Shouldn't wonder if she has not forced away her grandchild, in which case Miss Thelma may have gone after her."

"I'll come with you!" said Errington. "Let's lose no time about it."

But Guldmar shook his head. "'Tis a long way, my lads,--and you do not know the road. No--'twill be better we should take the boat and pull over to Bosekop; there we can get a carriole to take two of us at least to Talvig--"

He stopped, interrupted by Macfarlane, who looked particularly shrewd.

"I should certainly advise ye to try Bosekop first," he remarked cautiously. "Mr. Dyceworthy might be able to provide ye with valuable information."

"Dyceworthy!" roared the _bonde_, becoming inflammable at once. "He knows little of me or mine, thank the G.o.ds! and I would not by choice step within a mile of his dwelling. What makes you think of him, sir?"

Lorimer laid a hand soothingly on his arm.

"Now, my dear Mr. Guldmar, don't get excited! Mac is right. I dare say Dyceworthy knows as much in his way as the ancient Lovisa. At any rate, it isn't his fault if he does not. Because you see--" Lorimer hesitated and turned to Errington. "You tell him, Phil! you know all about it."

"The fact is," said Errington, while Guldmar gazed from one to the other in speechless amazement, "Thelma hasn't told you because she knew how angry you'd be--but Dyceworthy asked her to marry him. Of course she refused him, and I doubt if he's taken his rejection very resignedly."

The face of the old farmer as he heard these words was a study. Wonder, contempt, pride, and indignation struggled for the mastery on his rugged features.

"Asked--her--to--marry--him!" he repeated slowly. "By the sword of Odin!

Had I known it I would have throttled him!" His eyes blazed and he clenched his hand. "Throttled him, lads! I would! Give me the chance and I'll do it now! I tell you, the mere look of such a man as that is a desecration to my child,--liar and hypocrite as he is! may the G.o.ds confound him!" He paused--then suddenly bracing himself up, added. "I'll away to Bosekop at once--they've been afraid of me there for no reason--I'll teach them to be afraid of me in earnest! Who'll come with me?"

All eagerly expressed their desire to accompany him with the exception of one,--Pierre Duprez,--he had disappeared.

"Why, where has he gone?" demanded Lorimer in some surprise.

"I canna tell," replied Macfarlane. "He just slipped awa' while ye were haverin' about Dyceworthy--he'll maybe join us at the sh.o.r.e."

To the sh.o.r.e they at once betook themselves, and were soon busied in unmooring Guldmar's own rowing-boat, which, as it had not been used for some time, was rather a tedious business,--moreover they noted with concern that the tide was dead against them.

Duprez did not appear,--the truth is, that he had taken into his head to start off for Talvig on foot without waiting for the others. He was fond of an adventure and here was one that suited him precisely--to rescue distressed damsels from the grasp of persecutors. He was tired, but he managed to find the road,--and he trudged on determinedly, humming a song of Beranger's as he walked to keep him cheerful. But he had not gone much more than a mile when he discerned in the distance a carriole approaching him,--and approaching so swiftly that it appeared to swing from side to side of the road at imminent risk of upsetting altogether.

There seemed to be one person in it--an excited person too, who lashed the stout little pony and urged it on to fresh exertions with gesticulations and cries. That plump buxom figure--that tumbled brown hair streaming wildly on, the breeze,--that round rosy face--why! it was Britta! Britta, driving all alone, with the reckless daring of a Norwegian peasant girl accustomed to the swaying, jolting movement of the carriole as well as the rough roads and sharp turnings. Nearer she came and nearer--and Duprez hailed her with a shout of welcome. She saw him, answered his call, and drove still faster,--soon she came up beside him, and without answering his amazed questions, she cried breathlessly--

"Jump in--jump in! We must go on as quickly as possible to Bosekop!

Quick--quick! Oh my poor Froken! The old villain! Wait till I get at him!"

"But, my _leet-le_ child!" expostulated Pierre, climbing up into the queer vehicle--"What is all this? I am in astonishment--I understand not at all! How comes it that you are run away from home, and Mademoiselle also?"

Britta only waited till he was safely seated, and then lashed the pony with redoubled force. Away they clattered at a break-neck pace, the Frenchman having much ado to prevent himself from being jolted out again on the road.

"It is a wicked plot!" she then exclaimed, panting with excitement--"a wicked, wicked plot! This afternoon Mr. Dyceworthy's servant came and brought Sir Philip's card. It said that he had met with an accident and had been brought back to Bosekop, and that he wished the Froken to come to him at once. Of course, the darling believed it all--and she grew so pale, so pale! And she went straight away in her boat all by herself! Oh my dear--my dear!"

Britta gasped for breath, and Duprez soothingly placed an arm round her waist, an action which the little maiden seemed not to be aware of. She resumed her story--"Then the Froken had not been gone so very long, and I was watching for her in the garden, when a woman pa.s.sed by--a friend of my grandmother's. She called out--'Hey, Britta! Do you know they have got your mistress down at Talvig, and they'll burn her for a witch before they sleep!' 'She has gone to Bosekop,' I answered, 'so I know you tell a lie.' 'It is no lie,' said the old woman, 'old Lovisa has her this time for sure.' And she laughed and went away. Well, I did not stop to think twice about it--I started off for Talvig at once--I ran nearly all the way. I found my grandmother alone--I asked her if she had seen the Froken? She screamed and clapped her hands like a mad woman! she said that the Froken was with Mr. Dyceworthy--Mr. Dyceworthy would know what to do with her!"

"_Sapristi!_" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Duprez. "This is serious!"

Britta glanced anxiously at him, and went on. "Then she tried to shut the doors upon me and beat me--but I escaped. Outside I saw a man I knew with his carriole, and I borrowed it of him and came back as fast as I could--but oh! I am so afraid--my grandmother said such dreadful things!"

"The others have taken a boat to Bosekop," said Duprez, to rea.s.sure her.

"They may be there by now."

Britta shook her head. "The tide is against them--no! we shall be there first. But," and she looked wistfully at Pierre, "my grandmother said Mr. Dyceworthy had sworn to ruin the Froken. What did she mean, do you think?"

Duprez did not answer,--he made a strange grimace and shrugged his shoulders. Then he seized the whip and lashed the pony.

"Faster, faster, _mon chere_!" he cried to that much-astonished, well-intentioned animal. "It is not a time to sleep, _ma foi_!" Then to Britta--"My little one, you shall see! We shall disturb the good clergyman at his peaceful supper--yes indeed! Be not afraid!"

And with such rea.s.suring remarks he beguiled the rest of the way, which to both of them seemed unusually long, though it was not much past nine when they rattled into the little village called by courtesy a town, and came to a halt within a few paces of the minister's residence.

Everything was very quiet--the inhabitants of the place retired to rest early--and the one princ.i.p.al street was absolutely deserted. Duprez alighted.

"Stay you here, Britta," he said, lightly kissing the hand that held the pony's reins. "I will make an examination of the windows of the house.

Yes--before knocking at the door! You wait with patience. I will let you know everything!"

And with a sense of pleasurable excitement in his mind, he stole softly along on tip-toe--entered the minister's garden, fragrant with roses and mignonette, and then, attracted by the sound of voices, went straight up to the parlor window. The blind was down and he could see nothing, but he heard Mr. Dyceworthy's bland persuasive tones, echoing out with a soft sonorousness, as though he were preaching to some refractory parishioner. He listened attentively.

"Oh strange, strange!" said Mr. Dyceworthy. "Strange that you will not see how graciously the Lord hath delivered you into my hands! Yea,--and no escape is possible! For lo, you yourself, Froken Thelma," Dyceworthy started, "you yourself came hither unto my dwelling, a woman all unprotected, to a man equally unprotected,--and who, though a humble minister of saving grace, is not proof against the offered surrender of your charms! Make the best of it, my sweet girl!--make the best of it!

You can never undo what you have done to-night."

"Coward! . . . coward!" and Thelma's rich low voice caused Pierre to almost leap forward from the place where he stood concealed.

"You,--_you_ made me come here--_you_ sent me that card--_you_ dared to use the name of my betrothed husband, to gain your vile purpose! _You_ have kept me locked in this room all these hours--and do you think you will not be punished? I will let the whole village know of your treachery and falsehood!"

Mr. Dyceworthy laughed gently. "Dear me, dear me!" he remarked sweetly.

"How pretty we look in a pa.s.sion, to be sure! And we talk of our 'betrothed husband' do we? Tut-tut! Put that dream out of your mind, my dear girl--Sir Philip Bruce-Errington will have nothing to do with you after your little escapade of to-night! Your honor is touched!--yes, yes! and honor is everything to such a man as he. As for the 'card' you talk about, I never sent a card--not I!" Mr. Dyceworthy made this a.s.sertion in a tone of injured honesty. "Why should I! No--no! You came here of your own accord,--that is certain and--" here he spoke more slowly and with a certain malicious glee, "I shall have no difficulty in proving it to be so, should the young man Errington ask me for an explanation! Now you had better give me a kiss and make the peace!

There's not a soul in the place who will believe anything you say against me; _you_, a reputed witch, and I, a minister of the Gospel. For your father I care nothing, a poor sinful pagan can never injure a servant of the Lord. Come now, let me have that kiss! I have been very patient--I am sure I deserve it!"

There was a sudden rushing movement in the room, and a slight cry.

"If you touch me!" cried Thelma, "I will kill you! I will! G.o.d will help me!"

Again Mr. Dyceworthy laughed sneeringly. "G.o.d will help you!" he exclaimed as though in wonder. "As if G.o.d ever helped a _Roman_! Froken Thelma, be sensible. By your strange visit to me to-night you have ruined your already damaged character--I say you have ruined it,--and if anything remains to be said against you, I can say it--moreover, I _will_!"

A crash of breaking window-gla.s.s followed these words, and before Mr.

Dyceworthy could realize what had happened, he was pinioned against his own wall by an active, wiry, excited individual, whose black eyes sparkled with gratified rage, whose clenched fist was dealing him severe thumps all over his fat body.

"Ha, ha! You will, will you!" cried Duprez, literally dancing up against him and squeezing him as though he were a jelly. "You will tell lies in the service of _le Bon Dieu_? No--not quite, not yet!" And still pinioning him with one hand, he dragged at his collar with the other till he succeeded, in spite of the minister's unwieldly efforts to defend himself, in rolling him down upon the floor, where he knelt upon him in triumph. "_Voila! Je sais faire la boxe, moi!_" Then turning to Thelma, who stood an amazed spectator of the scene, her flushed cheeks and tear-swollen eyes testifying to the misery of the hours she had pa.s.sed, he said, "Run, Mademoiselle, run! The little Britta is outside, she has a pony-car--she will drive you home. I will stay here till Phil-eep comes. I shall enjoy myself! I will begin--Phil-eep with finish! Then we will return to you."

Thelma needed no more words, she rushed to the door, threw it open, and vanished like a bird in air. Britta's joy at seeing her was too great for more than an exclamation of welcome,--and the carriole, with the two girls safely in it, was soon on its rapid way back to the farm.

Meanwhile, Olaf Guldmar, with Errington and the others, had just landed at Bosekop after a heavy pull across the Fjord, and they made straight for Mr. Dyceworthy's house, the _bonde_ working himself up as he walked into a positive volcano of wrath. Finding the street-door open as it had just been left by the escaped Thelma, they entered, and on the threshold of the parlor, stopped abruptly, in amazement at the sight that presented itself. Two figures were rolling about on the floor, apparently in a close embrace,--one large and c.u.mbrous, the other small and slight. Sometimes they shook each other,--sometimes they lay still,--sometimes they recommenced rolling. Both were perfectly silent, save that the larger personage seemed to breathe somewhat heavily.

Lorimer stepped into the room to secure a better view--then he broke into an irrepressible laugh.

"It's Duprez," he cried, for the benefit of the others that stood at the door. "By Jove! How did he get here, I wonder?"

Hearing his name, Duprez looked up from that portion of Mr. Dyceworthy's form in which he had been burrowing, and smiled radiantly.