Helena's Path Part 8

"Oh, but I can't! Helena would never forgive me. I'm a friend of hers, you know--of the Marchesa di San Servolo. Really you can't come through here."

"Do you think you can stop me?"

"There isn't room for you to get over as long as I stand here--and the wall's too high to climb, isn't it?"

Lynborough studied the wall; it was twice the height of the wall on the other side; it might be possible to scale, but difficult and laborious; nor would he look imposing while struggling at the feat.

"You'll have to go round by the road," remarked Norah, breaking into a smile.

Lynborough was enjoying the conversation just as much as she was--but he wanted two things; one was victory, the other coffee.

"Can't I persuade you to move?" he said imploringly. "I really don't want to have to resort to more startling measures."

"You surely wouldn't use force against a girl, Lord Lynborough!"

"I said startling measures--not violent ones," he reminded her. "Are your nerves good?"

"Excellent, thank you."

"You mean to stand where you are?"

"Yes--till you've gone away." Now she laughed openly at him. Lynborough delighted in the merry sound and the flash of her white teeth.

"It's a splendid morning, isn't it?" he asked. "I should think you stand about five feet five, don't you? By the way, whom have I the pleasure of conversing with?"

"My name is Norah Mountliffey."

"Ah, I knew your father very well." He drew back a few steps. "So you must excuse an old family friend for telling you that you make a charming picture at that gate. If I had a camera--Just as you are, please!" He held up his hand, as though to pose her.

"Am I quite right?" she asked, humoring the joke, with her merry mischievous eyes set on Lynborough's face as she leaned over the top of the gate.

"Quite right. Now, please! Don't move!"

"Oh, I've no intention of moving," laughed Norah mockingly.

She kept her word; perhaps she was too surprised to do anything else.

For Lynborough, clapping his hat on firmly, with a dart and a spring flew over her head.

Then she wheeled round--to see him standing two yards from her, his hat in his hand again, bowing apologetically.

"Forgive me for getting between you and the suns.h.i.+ne for a moment," he said. "But I thought I could still do five feet five; and you weren't standing upright either. I've done within an inch of six feet, you know.

And now I'm afraid I must reluctantly ask you to excuse me. I thank you for the pleasure of this conversation." He bowed, put on his hat, turned, and began to walk away along Beach Path.

"You got the better of me that time, but you've not done with me yet,"

she cried, starting after him.

He turned and looked over his shoulder: save for his eyes his face was quite grave. He quickened his pace to a very rapid walk. Norah found that she must run, or fall behind. She began to run. Again that gravely derisory face turned upon her. She blushed, and fell suddenly to wondering whether in running she looked absurd. She fell to a walk.

Lynborough seemed to know. Without looking round again, he abated his pace.

"Oh, I can't catch you if you won't stop!" she cried.

"My friend and secretary, Roger Wilbraham, tells me that I have no right to stop," Lynborough explained, looking round again, but not standing still. "I have only the right to pa.s.s and repa.s.s. I'm repa.s.sing now.

He's a barrister, and he says that's the law. I daresay it is--but I regret that it prevents me from obliging you, Lady Norah."

"Well, I'm not going to make a fool of myself by running after you,"

said Norah crossly.

Lynborough walked slowly on; Norah followed; they reached the turn of the path towards the Grange hall door. They reached it--and pa.s.sed it--both of them. Lynborough turned once more--with a surprised lift of his brows.

"At least I can see you safe off the premises!" laughed Norah, and with a quick dart forward she reduced the distance between them to half-a-yard. Lynborough seemed to have no objection; proximity made conversation easier; he moved slowly on.

Norah seemed defeated--but suddenly she saw her chance, and hailed it with a cry. The Marchesa's bailiff--John Goodenough--was approaching the path from the house situated at the southwest corner of the meadow. Her cry of his name caught his attention--as well as Lynborough's. The latter walked a little quicker. John Goodenough hurried up. Lynborough walked steadily on.

"Stop him, John!" cried Norah, her eyes sparkling with new excitement.

"You know her Excellency's orders? This is Lord Lynborough!"

"His lords.h.i.+p! Aye, it is. I beg your pardon, my lord, but--I'm very sorry to interfere with your lords.h.i.+p, but----"

"You're in my way, Goodenough." For John had got across his path, and barred progress. "Of course I must stand still if you impede my steps, but I do it under protest. I only want to repa.s.s."

"You can't come this way, my lord. I'm sorry, but it's her Excellency's strict orders. You must go back, my lord."

"I am going back--or I was till you stopped me."

"Back to where you came from, my lord."

"I came from Scarsmoor and I'm going back there, Goodenough."

"Where you came from last, my lord."

"No, no, Goodenough. At all events, her Excellency has no right to drive me into the sea." Lynborough's tone was plaintively expostulatory.

"Then if you won't go back, my lord, here we stay!" said John, bewildered but faithfully obstinate.

"Just your tactics!" Lynborough observed to Norah, a keen spectator of the scene. "But I'm not so patient of them from Goodenough."

"I don't know that you were very patient with me."

"Goodenough, if you use sufficient force I shall, of course, be prevented from continuing on my way. Nothing short of that, however, will stop me. And pray take care that the force is sufficient--neither more nor less than sufficient, Goodenough."

"I don't want to use no violence to your lords.h.i.+p. Well now, if I lay my hand on your lords.h.i.+p's shoulder, will that do to satisfy your lords.h.i.+p?"

"I don't know until you try it."

John's face brightened. "I reckon that's the way out. I reckon that's law, my lord. I puts my hand on your lords.h.i.+p's shoulder like that----"

He suited the action to the word. In an instant Lynborough's long lithe arms were round him, Lynborough's supple lean leg twisted about his.

Gently, as though he had been a little baby, Lynborough laid the st.u.r.dy fellow on the gra.s.s.