40. XL.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
IT was only a few days after these scenes, when
as Falconbridge arrived one morning in sight of
Mr. Argal's he saw, affixed to the drooping
boughs of an elm, in the midst of many hounds,
the large chestnut, which was the favorite-riding horse of
Lord Fairfax.
As the young man entered he saw the Earl, who wore his
hunting costume, seated near Miss Argal, and engaged in
earnest conversation with her. Mr. Argal was not visible.
The young lady did not seem overjoyed at Falconbridge's
appearance—indeed her greeting was rather cool than warm.
It was no more than she could have bestowed upon a common
acquaintance—and although the nice sense of delicacy
possessed by Falconbridge led him to approve of this reserve
in the abstract, he could not divest himself of the idea
that something more than the presence of a third person actuated
the young lady in her demeanor toward him.
He had caught, indeed, as he entered, one of those
strangely fascinating glances fixed upon Lord Fairfax, and
the circumstance, trifling as it was, made his heart sink unconsciously.
It was folly, he reflected, to expect a young
lady, because she had plighted her word to one gentleman,
to assume toward all others an air of coldness and indifference;
but none the less did the electric smile which Miss
Argal had directed toward the Earl make the pulse of Falconbridge
throb with disquiet, and his brow contract.
Lord Fairfax rose courteously and greeted the young man
with grave politeness.
“Give you good day, Mr. Falconbridge,” he said; “I am
glad to meet you again.”
“Many thanks, my lord,—I trust you are well.”
“Perfectly, sir. I am always well when I move about, as
I have been doing now since daybreak.”
“You have been hunting, I imagine, from your dress.”
“Yes, all the morning. I had a chase after a deer, but
made nothing of it. It led me some miles to the west, and
I stopped here to see Mr. Argal and his family. I believe
they are friends of yours, are they not, sir?”
“Oh yes—is not that true, Miss Bertha?” said Falconbridge,
smiling.
“Certainly, sir, we are friends,” was the young lady's reply.
But the expression of the face seemed to say, “that is
all”—in her voice there was something strange and indescribable;
but its tones were plainly altered.
The quick ear of Falconbridge, sharpened and rendered
nervously acute by the depth of his infatuation, did not fail
to mark the change. The furrow in his brow became deeper,
and he fixed upon the young lady one of those clear and
searching glances which aim at reading the thoughts of
those who are the objects of them.
The tone in which Miss Argal had spoken was either accidental,
or she thought that she had gone too far. The indifferent,
almost cold expression disappeared from her eyes
—the beautiful face broke into smiles, and holding out her
hand, she said:
“Friends should treat each other more kindly than you
do us, Mr. Falconbridge—I have not seen you for a very
long while!”
And with this ambiguous speech, which conveyed the idea
to Lord Fairfax that the young man had not called for a
month—but to him, the meaning that twenty-four hours was a
“very long while” for him to be away from her,—the young
lady bestowed upon Falconbridge a new edition of the
glance at the Earl which he had intercepted on his entrance.
“At your age, Mr. Falconbridge,” said the Earl, with his
weary smile, “I would have made many visits to Mr. Argal's
here, especially if I were detained, as I believe you are, sir,
at that dull old Ordinary yonder. Pray leave it, and come
and stay at Greenway Court as long as your affairs engage
you in the region. It is really inhospitable in me to permit
a gentleman like yourself to thus tarry at a roadside tavern,
so near my house.”
Falconbridge inclined his head courteously and replied:
“Many thanks to your lordship. But I shall soon return
now—I have been away too long already from home.”
“Ah, that need not draw you, I fancy,” said the Earl,
smiling; “when a young seigneur goes on his travels in Europe,
we are accustomed to give him the length of his tether.”
The young man smiled in return, and shaking his head
replied:
“That may be true of young seigneurs, as you say, my
lord, but I am not such a person. My father is in straitened
circumstances, although we live well—requires my assistance,
and I must go back soon.
The Earl gravely inclined his head, and then turning to
the young lady, said:
“Do you expect your father to return this morning, Miss
Argal? I now remember that he desires to consult me upon
some land business, and my visit may save him trouble.”
“Yes, he will soon return, my lord,” was the reply; “I
am sure he will not stay long.”
“I will wait then, madam.”
And the Earl resumed the chair from which he had half
risen. He did not look at Falconbridge. The expression
of the young man's countenance would have surprised him.
He was gazing at Miss Argal with unaffected astonishment
—and he had abundant reason for doing so. Mr. Argal had
announced in his presence, on the evening before, that business
of importance made it necessary for him to go into
Maryland, and had begged the young man to be as much
with his daughter as he found it convenient—it would relieve
his mind. He had gone on the journey, which would
occupy two or three days, at least—and now Falconbridge
heard the assurance given to Lord Fairfax by his hostess,
that her father would “soon return,” that he “would not
stay long”—as though he had ridden out for an hour simply.
We shall do Miss Argal the justice to say, that no sooner
had she uttered the words, than she blushed and seemed to
regret them. She darted a rapid glance at Falconbridge,
played with the ribbon at her belt, turned carelessly a handsome
bracelet on her snowy arm—and ended by winding
around her finger with graceful indifference one of the profuse
curls of her raven hair.
She hesitated for a moment; looked out of the window,
and said:
“Perhaps I have unintentionally misled you, my lord. I
now remember that my father has ridden to some distance,
and may not return so soon. If your lordship, however,
will remain until the evening, I shall esteem it a favor. The
neighborhood is very lonely.”
“I regret that 'tis impossible, Miss Argal. I promised to
leave a deed which I have in my pocket, for a new settler in
the region, who will call for it. If my body-servant were
with me, as is sometimes the case when I hunt, I might
comply with your most obliging request.”
The young lady turned the bracelet round again on the
white arm, beat the floor with her foot, and then said:
“Our servants are all away; but Mr. Falconbridge might
take it for you, my lord. He might then return”——
The mark was overshot. Lord Fairfax greeted the proposition
with an unmistakable stare of astonishment. As to
Falconbridge, his face turned crimson, and from his eyes
darted one of those flashes which at times indicated how
dangerous he was when aroused.
“That is—I mean”—said Miss Argal, with some agitation,
“I meant that your lordship might be worn out with fatigue—you
might be greatly in need of rest—and as all our
servants are in the woods, I thought I might treat Mr. Falconbridge,
as a friend,—without ceremony. If I have offended
you, pray pardon me,” added the young lady, fixing
upon the young man her saddest and most beseeching
glance. “I am very young and inexperienced—I did not
think—if I have shocked you”——
And turning away her head, Miss Argal seemed overcome
with emotion.
The young man no longer betrayed any anger. There was
nothing but sadness now in his eyes. He did not reply
for an instant; when he did speak, it was only to say:
“I freely pardon any apparent slight, Miss Argal—I am
sure you did not mean any—as I am sure that his lordship
feels that I would willingly spare him fatigue were he greatly
exhausted.”
“No, no, sir,” said the Earl with a low inclination, “by
no means. I am quite rested, and feel as fresh as possible.”
“But you think my conduct unbecoming, my lord,” murmured
the young lady, “to treat Mr. Falconbridge with
such rudeness and want of ceremony—I fear you regard me
as thoughtless and ill-bred—I pray Mr. Falconbridge will
pardon me!”
The cloud disappeared from the brow of the Earl. That
voice of subtle and wonderful melody dissipated all the displeasure
which he had felt. Indeed he seemed fully under
the spell of her beauty, and had more than once displayed
during the progress of their interview that admiration which
he had conceived for her on the first day of their meeting,—
and which lingering unknown to him, in the depths of his
nature, had come at last to be something more than a vague
sentiment of pleasure in her society.
As she spoke now, or rather murmured in her low sweet
voice those words, “I pray Mr. Falconbridge will pardon
me!” all traces of displeasure disappeared, as we have said,
from his countenance, and the cold swarthy face almost
glowed:—that dark eye shone strangely.
“My dear Miss Argal,” he said with something approaching
feeling, “I pray you do not think so very seriously of a
trifle—I am sure Mr. Falconbridge so regards it. 'Twas
nothing,—mere thoughtlessness I am sure. And now I am
constrained to leave you. Pray present my regards to your
father on his return, and beg him to call on me at my house.
I need not say that I shall feel honored should you choose
to accompany him—at any time.”
With these words, Lord Fairfax bowed low, and left the
apartment. Falconbridge followed him to the door, declaring
his intention to remain. No sooner had the two men
disappeared than the sad and submissive expression vanished
from Miss Argal's face, her head rose erect, her brows
contracted furiously, and she imprisoned her red underlip
between the white teeth,—so unmistakable was the fire of
anger in her eyes.
When Falconbridge returned, in five minutes after bidding
the Earl farewell, he found the young lady in the position in
which he had left her—leaning sadly on the arm of her chair,
and presenting the image of a statue of sad sweetness and
regret.
He had never loved her more than at that moment.
