Starvecrow Farm Part 47

At that he had looked at her with the old sternness, but her eyes had no longer fallen before his. And then he had been called away to follow one of the hasty clues, the wild-goose scents which were reported from hour to hour--by pedlars coming in from the dales, or by hazy parish constables who took every stranger for a rogue. Twice he had turned in his saddle, twice reined in his horse, before he pa.s.sed out of sight; and she had known that he wrestled with himself, that he was near, very near, to giving way, and sacrificing her upon the altar of his child. But he had gone on, and not returned. And though it had grieved her to see how drawn and haggard was his face, how near to failing the wiry strength of his frame, she had rejoiced on her own account. He might say what he liked, forbid as he chose, it would go hard with her if she could not find the opportunity she needed, if she, who had suffered all along and in the esteem of all, did not make use of the means of clearing herself that remained to her.

Courage at least should not be wanting; and she would be cunning, too.

Already she dreamed of a happy return with the child; and her cheeks grew warm and her eyes soft as she conjured up the scene, and imagined herself leading the boy to his father and receiving his thanks. Then he would confess--more fully than he had yet confessed--how he had wronged her, how far from her thoughts had been harm to the boy. And she--ah, but she must first do her part. She must first do that which she had to do.

So she went craftily about her task, counting up those whom she had to fear and ticking them off. Before Clyne had left the house a mile behind him she had learned where Nadin was, and a second officer whom she suspected of watching her movements. They were abroad and she had naught to fear from them. There remained Mr. Sutton and Bishop. For the former, "Horrid man!" she thought in her ingrat.i.tude, "I suppose he will look to be thanked every time I see him!" And she was confirmed in this, when she marked him down. He was walking to and fro before the door.

"I must go out at the back!" she concluded.

But there still remained the bluff but civil Bishop. She had little doubt that he was the Cerberus left to guard her. And no doubt at all when she learned from Modest Ann that he was taking his early dinner in the coffee-room with the door wide open.

"Waiting to see if I go out," she said.

"Well, miss," Ann answered, "I shouldn't wonder if he was!"

Henrietta looked at her very kindly.

"Don't you think," she asked slowly, "that you could somehow get rid of him, Ann?"

The woman looked as much troubled as one of her hard features could look.

"No, miss, I don't think I could," she said.

"You are afraid?" gently.

"I'm not afraid of him," with some asperity. "Bless the man, no! I'm not afraid of no man nowhere! But I am afraid of the missus?"

"Ah! And you don't think that you could tell him that I wish to see him upstairs? And then when he comes up and finds the room empty--that I shall be down from my bedroom in five minutes?"

"It wouldn't be true."

"No," softly. "Perhaps not."

Modest Ann looked dreadfully perplexed.

"You'll get me into trouble, miss," she said. "I know you will."

"Then I'll get you out again," the fair tempter retorted. "I will indeed, Ann."

"But if you get into trouble yourself, miss? What then?"

Henrietta turned with the air of a martyr to the window and looked out.

"I thought you liked me a little," she murmured presently, and dried a tear that was not there. "I thought you would do a small thing for me."

The woman took her hand and kissed it softly.

"I will, miss, drat me if I don't!" she said. "I'll do what you wish, come what may of it! So there."

Henrietta turned to her, her face in a glow. "You dear, kind thing!"

she cried, "I'll never forget it. You are the only one who is not against me."

Ann shook her head.

"I hope I'll not be the one to repent it!" she muttered, with a last spark of doubt.

"Indeed, indeed you won't! But now"--naively--"shall I lock him in or not?"

"In the room?"

"Yes."

"Here, miss? Why, miss, he'd rouse the house!"

"Not if we tied up the bell-pull first!" she suggested.

But Modest Ann was aghast at the thought. "Lord, miss, he'd only have to open the window and shout! And there's the parson walking up and down the road, and the fat'd be in the fire in two twos!"

"So it would," Henrietta admitted reluctantly. "I see. So you must just entice him here, and say I'll be down from my bedroom in three minutes. And I hope he'll be patient. As for you, you'll know no more than that I asked you to fetch him, and said I should be with him at once."

"Well, they can't touch me for that," Modest Ann said; and she agreed, but with hesitation. "I don't think he'll be so simple," she said.

"That's a fact. He'll not come up."

But he did. He walked straight into the trap, and Henrietta, who was waiting in ambush in the dark pa.s.sage while he pa.s.sed, sped downstairs, and would have escaped by the back door without meeting a soul, if Mrs. Gilson had not by bad luck been crossing the yard. The landlady caught sight of the girl, and raising her voice cried to her to stop. For an instant Henrietta hesitated. Then she thought it prudent to comply. She returned slowly.

"Come, come, miss, this won't do!" the landlady said tartly. "You're not going off like that all of a hurry! You bide a bit and consider who's bail for you."

"Not you!" Henrietta retorted mutinously. And as this was true, for the Gilsons' bail had been discharged, the first hit was hers.

"Oh, so you're saucy now, miss!" the landlady retorted. "Brag's the dog, is it?"

"No, but----"

"It's so, it seems! Any way, you'll please to tell me, young lady, where you are going in such a hurry."

But Henrietta was at bay. She knew that if she were delayed even two minutes her chance was gone; for Bishop would be on her heels. So, "That's my business!" she answered. And determined to escape, even by force, she turned about, light as a roe, tossed her head defiantly, and was off through the gate in a twinkling.

Mrs. Gilson was left gaping. She was not of a figure to take up the chase, for like many good housewives of her time, she seldom left her own premises except to go to church. But she was none the less certain that Henrietta ought to be followed. "There's a fine trollop!" she cried. "It won't be long before she runs her head into harm! Where's that blockhead, Bishop?" And she bundled away to the coffee-room to tell him that the girl was gone.

She arrived scant of breath--and he was not there. The coffee-room was empty, and the landlady, knowing that he had stayed in the house on purpose to keep an eye on Henrietta's movements, swept out again, fuming. In the pa.s.sage she caught sight of Modest Ann and called her.

"Where's that man, Bishop?" she asked.

Ann stared as if she had never heard the name.

"Bishop?" she repeated stolidly.

"What else did I say?"

"He's with the young lady."