The Gold of Chickaree Part 6

'Did you come through the wood?'

'No. I am sure of that.'

'Then did you come east or west of it?'

'I do not remember the wood at all,' said Hazel, feeling very much ashamed of herself. 'I was not looking. But there were no houses?

I am sure of that.'

'What _did_ you see, Hazel?' softly.

'I think, of all people to cross-examine one!' said the girl, in her extremity sending a little bit of her old self to the front. 'I am certain _I_ can find the way, Mr. Rollo, without the trouble of considering what I did not see, or what I did.'

'May I venture to ask, what orders you gave Reo?'

'The usual orders; to wait till I came.'

Rollo laughed a little, but if his face did not mean that he understood the whole matter, it did not mean anything. It was very grave, though he laughed.

He went off, and left Wych Hazel again to herself, with only Gyda moving about and keeping up the fire. It was a full mile over the hill to the cross-road where the carriage was standing, and Hazel had a good time of quiet all to herself. As once before that day, she had looked up the moment Rollo turned and so watched him out of sight. And now Hazel sat among her cus.h.i.+ons, her head down against the side of her chair, looking into the winking embers with very grave wide-open eyes. Mentally, she knew there had come a great lull over all troublous things; a lull which she was not just then strong enough to disturb by handling it in detail. But physically, she felt shattered, and very little able to practise self- defence; and she began to long to get home, and by herself, where no keeping-up of any sort would be needful. One thing was yet to do, however. So when Gyda had ended her work and sat down at the corner of the hearth, Hazel left her cus.h.i.+ons and knelt down beside her.

'Mrs. Boerresen'?she said with a hand on her arm, her face upraised.

'My lady,' said Gyda, turning her bright eyes upon Hazel with a happy look.

'You will not tell him anything of all this? my coming, and all about it? And what I said?'

'No need,' said Gyda placidly. 'My lady will tell it herself.'

A very resolved little gesture of the girl's head dismissed _that_ statement. She was silent a minute.

'And then,' she began again, more hesitatingly, 'at least you will not speak of it. Nor?of?a year ago?'

'Last year?' said Gyda. 'When my lady came here before? That was not for him to know. That was only me alone. To-day my lady will tell him about, when she pleases.' And Gyda smiled over this statement benignly.

Hazel leaned her head against Gyda's arm gazing down into the firelight; it seemed to her to-day as if she had to think over anything a great many times to get used to it. She must be tired.

The afternoon light was waning fast when the quick step outside was heard again, and Rollo came in. He surveyed the group quietly, and then went off to his room to change his dress. And when he returned to relieve the guard, it was with a most composed and unexciting manner. He scarcely said three words, till a boy brought the message that the carriage was waiting in the Hollow. Then he wrapped the great plaid shawl round Hazel, for the evening had fallen chill and her dress was thin, and they went out into the dusky twilight for the walk down to the carriage.

Dusky, and yet clear; a cloudless depth of sky out of which stars were brightening; a still air with almost a breath of frost in it; outlines of the Hollow hills darkly drawn against the soft twilight sky; the silence of evening, when mill-work was done, over all and in everything. Rollo did not speak, and they heard?if they heard?only the sound of their own steps down the path. When they were in the carriage, Rollo presently, with a gentle word, untied Wych Hazel's flat hat and took it off; drew a corner of the shawl over her head, and putting his arm round her made her lay down her head upon his shoulder and lean upon him.

'But Mr. Rollo??' said Hazel timidly, finding that her acted remonstrance had no effect.

'What?'

'I am quite able to sit up.'

'I have no faith whatever in that statement.'

'If you will let me try?the other,'?Hazel began.

'The other shoulder?'

But the answer to that tarried. Hazel knew perfectly well that if she spoke in the first minute she would laugh; which was not at all according to her present system of tactics. And in the second, her words were not ready, and by the time the third came it was rather too late. So silence reigned, while Reo sent the horses along, over the level smooth road, and the evening air came in crisp and fresh at the open window, and stars looked down winking in their quiet way of saying sweet things. They always do, when one is happy; sometimes in other states of mind they seem high above sympathy.

But to-night they looked down at Hazel confidentially, and crickets and nameless insects chirruped along by the roadside; and on and on the carriage rolled, mile after mile. Rollo was as still as the stars, almost. And so was Wych Hazel, for a long time; still as anything could be that lived. Suddenly a question broke from her.

'What was it you were going to say to me?'

'When?' The word came with a ring of many thoughts, through which a grave tenderness most vibrated.

'You said, _that_ was the best time. And you did not take it,' said Hazel.

'Hush,' said he softly and gravely. 'All has been said; except that I shall never forgive myself, Hazel.'

CHAPTER V.

ASLEEP AND AWAKE.

Wych Hazel went to her room so utterly spent, so completely prostrate, that even Phoebe could not talk during her ministrations; nor dared Mrs. Byw.a.n.k find fault. _Why_ Miss Wych must needs tire herself to death, over n.o.body knows what, was a trial to the good housekeeper's patience as well as her curiosity; but for that night the only thing was to let her sleep. It was the only thing next day. The reaction, once fairly set in, was strong in proportion to the causes which had prepared for it and brought it about; and Wych Hazel lay in a motionless stupor of sleep, from which nothing could rouse her up. She would open her eyes perhaps, and answer a question, but anything more than that was plainly beyond her strength; and for three days and three nights she lay, as helpless as a little child. "Sleeping her life out," Phoebe said, and certainly frightening Mrs. Byw.a.n.k half to death; but in reality pa.s.sing safely out from under the mortal illness that had hung over her by a thread.

And so, on the fourth morning after the day of events, Hazel did fairly wake up, and dress herself, and go down stairs; devoutly hoping that n.o.body _but_ Mr. Falkirk might come to breakfast, and extremely ready to dispense with him.

Wrapping herself in the soft folds of a crimson morning dress, which at least would keep her in countenance; her face more delicate than pale; her step rather hesitating than slow; her thoughts in a maze of dreamland as misty and bright and shy as the morning sunbeams that went everywhere and just kept out of reach. What had happened _before_ these three days, that, Hazel knew well enough. But what had happened since that? Had Jeannie Deans been here, with her master??and not finding the lady of the house on hand, had they then gone straight to Mr. Falkirk? And if so, what was his probable state of mind??did _he_ know? or guess?

And how many more times had her other guardian come to Chickaree? and what had he thought of the tidings about her??

and at what unexpected point of the day or the minute was she to meet him, on a sudden? Her step lingered on the last stair?went noiselessly along the hall; and then the next thing Mr. Falkirk knew, was a light hand on his shoulder and a soft

'Good-morning, sir.'

'My dear!' said Mr. Falkirk suddenly rising, 'I am very glad to see you.' And he took her hand, which was not common, and looked at her as if to convince himself that all was right.

'Are you, sir?' she said with a laugh. 'You are sure it is not a hallucination, Mr. Falkirk?'

'I am sure of nothing, Miss Hazel, except that I see you. At my time of life, confidence in any conclusions is somewhat shaken.

What has been the matter with you?'

'I have been having my own way, sir,?which has agreed with me admirably,' returned Miss Hazel with an arch of her eyebrows.

'There is nothing like it, I find. Will you come to breakfast, Mr.

Falkirk?'

Her guardian cast two or three rather inquiring looks at her; but seeing that she undoubtedly was well, and probably had not been ill, he contentedly and unsuspiciously, man-like, dismissed the subject and came to breakfast as she bade him.

'It is so long since I had my own way,' he remarked dryly, 'I have forgotten how it feels. Your state of serene satisfaction is unknown to me. How long do you intend to keep it up, Miss Hazel?'

'Until some restless person puts it to flight, sir, I suppose. That is the usual fate of my serene states, as you call them.'

'It occurs to me,' Mr. Falkirk went on, 'that in our recent search after fortune and in the general hallucination which in such a search prevails, I am a good honest big Newfoundland dog?

transformed into the present shape for the more efficient performance of the duty of barking round his mistress. I feel that to be about my present status and dignity, plainly expressed.'

'The way gentlemen make statements!' said Wych Hazel. 'Perhaps you are aware, sir, who brought me home here, a month ago, when I did not want to come?'