The Shadow of a Sin

"Upon my word, Miss Vaughan," returned the man irresolutely, "I do not know what to do."

"You can think the matter over," she said. "Meanwhile, Gustave, grant me one favor – promise me that you will not tell Lord Chandon without first warning me."

"I will promise that," he agreed.

"Thanks," said Hyacinth, gratefully, to whom even this concession was a great deal. "I shall not, perhaps, be able to see you again, Gustave; but you can write to me and tell me what you have decided on doing."

"I will, Miss Vaughan," he assented.

"And pray be careful that my name does not pass your lips. I am known as Miss Holte here."

With a low bow the man walked away; and they were both unconscious that the angry eyes of a jealous woman had been upon them.

CHAPTER XXXV

Kate Mansfield, Miss Dartelle's maid, had taken, as she expressed it, "a great fancy" to Gustave. She was a pretty, quick, bright-eyed girl, not at all accustomed to giving her smiles in vain. Gustave – who had been with Lord Chandon for many years – was handsome too in his way. He had an intelligent face, eyes that were bright and full of expression, and a somewhat mocking smile, which added, in Kate's mind, considerable to his charms. He had certainly appeared very attentive to her; and up to the present Kate had felt pretty sure of her conquest. She heard Gustave say, as his master was out for the day, he should have a long ramble on the seashore; and the pretty maid, having put on her most becoming bonnet, made some pretext for going to the shore at the same time. She quite expected to meet him, "And then," as she said to herself, with a smile, "the seaside is a romantic place. And who knows what may happen?"

But when Kate had reached the shore, and her bright eyes had wandered over the sands she saw no Gustave. "He has altered his mind," she thought, "and has gone elsewhere."

She walked on, somewhat disappointed, but feeling sure that she should meet him before she returned home. Presently her attention was attracted by the sound of a man's voice, and, looking round a bowlder, she saw Gustave in deep conversation with the governess, Miss Holte.

Kate was already jealous of Miss Holte – jealous of her beauty and of the favor with which Lady Dartelle regarded her.

"I do hate governesses!" Kate was wont to observe to her friends in the kitchen. "I can do with the airs and graces of real ladies – they seem natural – but I cannot endure governesses; they always seem to me neither the one thing nor the other."

Then a sharp battle of words would ensue with Mary King, who was devoted to the young governess.

"You may say what you like, Kate, but I tell you Miss Holte is a lady. I know one when I see one."

And now the jealous eyes of Kate Mansfield dwelt with fierce anger on Hyacinth.

"Call her a lady!" she said to herself sneeringly. "Ladies do not talk to servants in that fashion. Why, she clasps hands as though she were begging and praying him about something! I will say nothing now, but I will tell Miss Dartelle; she will see about it." And Kate went home in what she called a "temper."

Gustave walked away full of thought. He would certainly act honorably toward Miss Vaughan – would give her fair warning before he said anything to Lord Chandon. Perhaps, after all, she knew best. It might be better that his master should know nothing of her being there; it was just possible that there were circumstances in the case of which he knew nothing, and there was some rumor in the servant's hall about his master and Miss Dartelle. Doubtless it would be wise to accede to Miss Vaughan's request and say nothing.

But during the remainder of that day Gustave was so silent, so preoccupied, that his fellow-servants were puzzled to discover the reason. He did not even take notice of Kate's anger. He spoke to her, and did not observe that she was disinclined to answer; nor did he seem to understand her numerous allusions to "underhand people" and "cunning ways."

"I almost think," said Gustave to himself, "that I will send Miss Vaughan three lines to say that I have decided not to mention anything about her; she looked so imploringly at me, I had better not interfere."

Of all the blows that could have fallen on the hapless girl, she least expected this. She had feared to meet Lord Chandon, and had most carefully kept out of his way; she had avoided Sir Aubrey lest any chance word of his should awaken Adrian's curiosity. She had taken every possible precaution, but she had never given one thought to Gustave. She remembered now having heard Lady Vaughan say how faithful he was, and how highly Adrian valued his services – how Gustave had never had any other master, and how he spared no pains to please him.

And now suddenly he had become the chief person in her world. Her fate – nay, her life – lay in his hands – honest hands they were, she knew, and could rely implicitly on his word.

He would give her fair warning. "And when I get the warning," she said to herself, "I shall go far away from England. No place is safe here. For I would not drag him down – my noble, princely Adrian, who has searched for me, sorrowed for me, and who loves me still. I would not let him link his noble life with mine; the name that he bears must not be sullied by me. It shall not be said of the noblest of his race that he married a girl who had compromised herself. People shall not point to his wife and say, 'She was the girl who was talked about in the murder case.' Ah, no, my darling, I will save you from yourself – I will save you from the degradation of marrying me!"

She spent the remainder of the day – her holiday – in forming plans for going abroad. It was not safe for her to remain in England; at some time or other she must be inevitably discovered. It would be far better to go abroad – to leave England and go to some distant land – where no one would know her. She had one friend who could help her in her new decision. Her heart turned gratefully to Dr. Chalmers. Heaven bless him – he would not fail her.

She must tell him that she was not happy – that a great danger threatened her; and she must ask him to help her to procure some situation abroad. Nor would she delay – she would write that very day, and ask him to begin to make inquiries at once. Soon all danger would be over, and she would be in peace. The long day passed all too quickly, she was so busy with her plans. It was late in the evening when she heard the carriage return, and soon afterward she knew that Adrian was once more under the same roof.

Veronica Dartelle was not in the most sunny of tempers. She had spent a long day with Lord Chandon, yet during the whole of it he had not said a word that gave her the least hope of his ultimately caring for her, while she liked him better and better every day. She wondered if that "tiresome girl" was really the cause of his indifference, or if there was any one else he liked better.

"Perhaps," she thought to herself, "I have not beauty enough to please him. I hear that this girl he loved was very lovely."

An aversion to all beautiful girls and fair women entered her mind and remained there. She was tired – and that did not make her more amiable; so, when Kate Mansfield came in with her story, Veronica was in the worst possible mood to hear it.

"What are you saying, Kate?" she cried, angrily. "It cannot be possible – Miss Holte would never go to meet a servant. You must be mistaken."

"I am not, indeed, Miss Dartelle. I thought it my duty to mention it to you. They were talking for more than half an hour, and Miss Holte had her hands clasped, as though she were begging and praying him about something."

"Nonsense," said Miss Dartelle – "you must be mistaken. What can Miss Holte know of Lord Chandon's servant?"

Even as she said the words a sudden idea rushed through her mind. "What if the servant was taking some message from his master?"

"I will make inquiries," she said aloud. "I will go to Miss Holte."

But further testimony was not needed, for, as Miss Dartelle crossed the upper corridor, she saw Hyacinth standing by the window. To her came Gustave, who bowed silently, placed a note in her hand, and then withdrew.

"I have had absolute proof now," she said. "This shall end at once."

CHAPTER XXXVI

Lady Dartelle sat alone in her own room. The evening had suddenly grown cold and chilly; heavy showers of rain were beating against the windows; the fine warm day had ended in something like a tempest. Then there came a lull. They could hear the beating of the waves on the shore, while from the woods came the sobbing and wailing of the wind; the night came on in intense darkness and cold. Lady Dartelle had ordered a fire in her room, and told the maid to bring her a cup of warm tea there, for her ladyship was tired with the long day in the fresh air.

She was reclining comfortably, and at her ease, with a new novel in her hand, when the door suddenly opened, and Veronica entered, her face flushed with anger. Lady Dartelle's heart sunk at the sight; there was nothing she dreaded more than an ebullition of temper from her daughters.

"Mamma," cried the young lady, "be good enough to attend to me. You laughed at my advice before; now, perhaps, when the mischief is done, you will give more heed."

Lady Dartelle laid down her book with a profound sigh of resignation.

"What is the matter, Veronica?" she asked calmly.

"The matter is, mamma, that everything has turned out as I foresaw it would. Your governess has contrived to get up some kind of acquaintance with Lord Chandon." Veronica's face broke down with anger and emotion.

"I feel sure you are mistaken, Veronica. I have reason to think very highly of Miss Holte's prudence. I have not mentioned it before, but I have really been delighted with her. She might have caused your brother to make a fool of himself; but she refrained, and would have nothing to say to him." Veronica laughed contemptuously.

"Why trouble herself about a baronet, when she can flirt with a lord? I tell you, mamma, that girl is a mask of deceit – all the worse, doubly worse, because she tries to blind you by her seeming simplicity."

"What has she done?" asked Lady Dartelle, gravely.

"Yesterday she declined to go with us; but the reason was not, as you imagine, self-denial. She remained at home purposely to meet Gustave, Lord Chandon's valet; and my maid saw her talking to him for more than an hour on the sands. Now, mamma, you and I know what such a proceeding means. Of course Miss Holte's refinement and education forbid the notion that she went out to meet a servant for his own sake. It was simply to receive a message from, or arrange some plan about, his master."

"Servants' gossip, my dear," decided Lady Dartelle.

"Nothing of the kind, mamma. Perhaps you will believe me when I say that as I was passing the upper corridor – on my way, in fact, to see Miss Holte – I saw Gustave go up to her; she was standing at the window. He put a note into her hand and went away, after making her a low bow."

"You really witnessed that, Veronica, yourself?"

"I did, indeed, mamma; and I tell you that, with all her seeming meekness, that girl is carrying on an underhand correspondence with Lord Chandon. In justice to myself and my sister, I demand that she be sent from the house – I demand it as a right!" she added passionately.

"I will inquire into it at once," said Lady Dartelle; "if she be guilty, she shall go. I will send for her."

While a servant was sent to summon Miss Holte to her ladyship's presence, Lady Dartelle looked very anxious.

"This is a serious charge, Veronica. Aubrey has taught us to look upon Lord Chandon as a man of such unblemished honor that I can hardly believe he would lower himself to carry on an intrigue in any house where he was visiting, least of all with a governess."

"It is quite possible," said Veronica, "that Miss Holte may have known him before he came here; there is evidently something of the adventuress about her."

But when, a few minutes afterward, Miss Holte entered the room, there was something in the pure lovely face that belied such words.

"Miss Holte," said Lady Dartelle, "I have sent for you on a very painful matter. I need hardly say that during your residence with me I have learned to trust you; but I have heard that which makes me fear my trust may have been misplaced. Is it true that yesterday you met and talked for some time with the servant of Lord Chandon?"

Veronica noted with malicious triumph how the sweet face grew white and a great fear darkened the violet eyes.

Hyacinth opened her lips to speak, but the sound died away upon them.

"Is it true?" asked Lady Dartelle.

"It was quite accidental," she murmured, and she trembled so violently that she was obliged to hold the table for support.

"Governesses do not meet men-servants and talk to them by the hour accidentally," said Veronica.

"You do not deny it, then, Miss Holte?"

"I do not," she replied, faintly. She was thinking to herself, "I shall have time to run away before the blow falls;" and that thought alone sustained her.

"I am sorry for it," continued Lady Dartelle. "May I ask also if that servant brought a note for you this evening, and gave it in your hand?"

"I refuse to answer," she replied, with quiet dignity.

"No answer is needed," said Veronica; "I saw you receive the note."

A deeper pallor came over the fair face – a hunted look came into the sad eyes. The girl clasped her hands nervously.

"I am sorry that this should have happened," said Lady Dartelle. "Knowing you to be a person of refinement and education, I cannot believe you to be guilty of an intrigue with a servant – that I am sure is not the case. I can only imagine that you have some underhand correspondence with a gentleman whom I have hitherto highly respected – with Lord Chandon."

"I have not. Oh, believe me, Lady Dartelle, indeed I have not! He has never seen me – at least, I mean – O Heaven help me!"

"You see," said Veronica to Lady Dartelle, "that confusion means guilt." Miss Dartelle turned to the trembling, pallid girl.

"Do you mean to tell us," she asked, "that you do not know Lord Chandon?"

"I – I mean," murmured the white lips, and then Hyacinth buried her face in her hands and said no more.

"I think, mamma," said Miss Dartelle, "that you have proof sufficient."

"I am very sorry that you have forgotten yourself, Miss Holte," said her ladyship, gravely. "I shall consider it my duty to speak to his lordship in the morning; and you must prepare to leave Hulme Abbey at once."

The girl raised her white face with a look of despair which Lady Dartelle never forgot. "May I ask your ladyship," she said, faintly, "not to mention my name to – to the gentleman, and to let me go away in the morning?"

This was the most unfortunate question that, for her own sake, she could have asked – it only confirmed Lady Dartelle's opinion of her guilt and aroused her curiosity.

"I shall most certainly speak to Lord Chandon; it is only due to him that he should have the opportunity of freeing himself from what is really a most disgraceful charge."

Hyacinth wrung her hands with a gesture of despair, which was not lost upon the two ladies.

"You can retire to your room," said Lady Dartelle, coolly; "we will arrange to-morrow about the time of your going."

As the unhappy girl closed the door, Veronica turned to her mother with an air of triumph.

"That girl is an adventuress – there is something wrong about her. You will act very wisely to let her go." At a violent blast of the tempest without Veronica paused in her remarks about Miss Holte, and exclaimed, "What a terrible storm, mamma! Do you hear the rain?"

"Yes," replied Lady Dartelle; "they who are safe and warm at home may thank Heaven for it."

The young governess went to her room and stood there a picture of despair. What was she to do? Gustave, in the little note that he had brought, told her he had decided to obey her and say nothing; so that she had begun to feel a sense of security again. The present discovery was more dreadful than anything she had ever imagined, more terrible than anything else that could have happened. What would Adrian say or think? Oh, she must go – go before this crowning shame and disgrace came! In the morning Lord Chandon would be asked about her, and would, of course, deny all knowledge of her. She would probably be forced to see him then – dear Heaven, what misery!

"I would rather," she said to herself, "die ten thousand deaths. I have wronged you enough, my love – I will wrong you no more."

Perhaps her brain was in some degree weakened by the continued shocks and by bitter suffering, but there came to her in that hour, the crisis of her life, no idea but of flight – anyhow, anywhere – flight where those cruel words could not follow her – flight were it even into the cold arms of death.

She would go to Dr. Chalmers and ask him at once to take her abroad, to guide her to some place where those who persecuted her could never reach her more. She did not stop to think; every footstep made her tremble, every sound threw her into a paroxysm of fear. What if they should be coming to confront her now with Lord Chandon?

"I cannot see him," she said; "death rather than that!"

At last she could bear the suspense no longer. What mattered the rain, the wind, the blinding tempest to her? Out of the house she would be safe; in the house danger greater than death threatened her – danger she could not, would not, dared not face.

She did not stop to think; she did not even go to the bedside of the little one she loved so dearly to kiss her for the last time; a wild, half-mad frenzy had seized upon her.

She must go, for her persecutors were close upon her, were hunting her down. She must go, or her doom was sealed. She put on her cloak and hat, and went down the staircase and out by one of the side doors, unseen, unnoticed. The wind almost blinded her, the rain beat fast and heavy upon her; but the darkness, the storm, the leaden sky, the wailing wind, seemed preferable to what lay before her.

CHAPTER XXXVII

It appeared to Adrian, Lord Chandon, on the morning following, that there was some unusual confusion in the house. Lady Dartelle was late in coming down to breakfast. When breakfast was over, she asked to speak with Lord Chandon alone, and he followed her to the library.

"My lord," she began, "pray tell me, do you know anything of the whereabouts of this unfortunate girl? I had perhaps better explain to you that much scandal has been caused in my household by the fact that my governess met your valet on the sands, and was seen talking to him for more than an hour. One of my daughters also saw him give Miss Holte a note. Now, as we could not imagine her capable of any correspondence with a servant it was only natural to suppose that he was acting for his master. I sent for Miss Holte and spoke to her, and she evinced the utmost confusion, and terrible agitation. She did not deny that she was acquainted with you. I told her I should consider it my duty to speak to you; this morning we find she must have left the house last night. Had I not reason to seek an explanation, Lord Chandon?"

"You had, indeed," he replied, "but I can throw no light on the mystery. Here is Gustave; perhaps he can enlighten us."

"Gustave," asked Lord Chandon, "for whom have you been carrying notes to Lady Dartelle's governess?"

"For no one, my lord. I took her one note, but it was written by myself."

"Gustave," said Lord Chandon, sternly, "I command you to tell all you know of the lady."

"I promised not to betray her, my lord," and as he spoke he looked wistfully at his master. Adrian thought that he saw tears in his eyes.

"Gustave," he said, "you have always been faithful to me. Tell me, who is this lady?"

"Oh, my lord!" cried the man, in a strange voice, "can you not guess?" Lord Chandon was puzzled, and then his face changed, a ghastly pallor came over it.

"Do you mean to tell me," he demanded, in a trembling voice, "that it is – it is Miss Vaughan?"

A look of wild excitement came over Adrian's face, as he turned to Lady Dartelle.

"I believe," he said, "that the lady you call your governess is the one I have so long searched for – the lady who is betrothed to me – Miss Vaughan. Where is she?" he cried, "she must be looked for. Thank heaven, I have found some trace of her at last!"

"Where is Aubrey?" he asked, and in a few minutes the young baronet had heard the story. He could scarcely conceal his excitement and wonder. "I will find her," said Adrian to Sir Aubrey. "Will you go down to the seashore, Aubrey? And I will take Gustave with me through the woods. I will find her, living or dead."

They were half way through the woods, walking on in profound silence, when Gustave, looking through a cluster of trees, suddenly clutched his master's arm. "Look, my lord, there is something lying under that tree!"

It was Hyacinth's silent, prostrate form.

"She is dead!" cried Gustave.

But Lord Chandon pushed him away. With a cry of agony the man never forgot, he raised the silent figure in his arms. "My darling!" he cried, "Oh, heaven, do not let me lose her! Give me the brandy, Gustave, quickly," he said, "and run – run for your life. Tell Lady Dartelle that we have found Miss Vaughan, and ask her to send a carriage to the entrance to the woods, telegraph for a doctor, and have all ready as soon as possible."

Adrian would allow no other hands to touch her. He raised her, carried her to the carriage, and held her during the short drive. When they reached the house, and she had been carried to her room, he went to Lady Dartelle and took her hands in his. Tears shone in his eyes.

"Lady Dartelle," he said, "I would give my life for hers! Will you do your best to save her for me?"

"I will," she replied, "you may trust me."

Adrian did not leave the house, but Sir Aubrey Dartelle telegraphed Sir Arthur and Lady Vaughan the glad tidings that the lost one had been found. Dr. Ewald was astonished, when he went down stairs, to find himself caught in a most impulsive and excited manner by the hand.

"The truth, doctor," said Lord Chandon, "I must know the truth! Is there any danger?"

"I think not. If she is kept quiet, and free from excitement for two days, I will predict a perfect recovery."

On the third day Lady Dartelle sought Lord Chandon. "Miss Vaughan is much better, and is sitting up," she said, with a quiet smile. "Would you like to go up and see her?"

Hyacinth rose when Adrian entered Lady Dartelle's sitting-room. She stretched out her hands to him with a little imploring cry, and the next moment he had folded her to his heart – he had covered her face with passionate kisses and tears. She trembled in his strong grasp.

"Adrian," she whispered, "do you quite forgive me?"

"My darling," he said, "I have nothing to forgive; it was, after all, but the shadow of a sin."

Never had the May sun shone more brightly. It was the twenty-second of the month, yet everyone declared it was more like the middle of June than of May.

Hyacinth and Adrian were to be married in the old parish church at Oakton. Long before the hour of celebration, crowds of people had assembled, all bearing flowers to throw beneath the bride's feet.

Sir Aubrey Dartelle – best man – with Lord Chandon, was already waiting at the altar, and to all appearances seemed inclined to envy his friend's good fortune.

The ceremony was performed, the marriage vows were repeated, and Adrian Lord Chandon and Hyacinth Vaughan were made husband and wife – never to be parted more until death.

Three years have passed since that bright wedding day. Looking on the radiant face of Lady Chandon, one could hardly believe that desolation and anguish had marked her for their own. There was no shadow now in those beautiful eyes, for the face was full of love and of happiness.

One morning Lady Chandon was in the nursery with Lady Vaughan, who had gone to look at the baby. They were admiring him, his golden curls, his dark eyes, the grace of his rounded limbs, when Lord Chandon suddenly appeared on the scene.

"Hyacinth," he said, "will you come down stairs? There are visitors for you."

"Who is it, Adrian?" she asked.