Anthony Hope

“ A few centuries ago the Turks had fallen back beaten from before these giant walls. Then I glanced round Mrs Thistleton’s gentle trim old garden.
“I think you’ve answered my question,” I said.
She closed the book, with a shrug of her thin little shoulders, and sat silent for a moment. The oval of her face was certainly beautiful, and the thick masses of her hair were dark as night, or the inside of a dungeon in her castle of Friedenburg. (I liked to think of her having dungeons, though I really don’t know whether she had.) ”

“ Why am I more mad than the Archdeacon, Roger?”
“But there’s all the difference!”
“Of course there is,” said Stabb. “All the difference that there is between being able to do it and not being able to do it—and I know of none so profound.”
“There’s no difference at all,” declared Lynborough. “Therefore—as a good son, no less than as a good friend—you will come and bathe with me to-morrow?”
“Oh, I’ll come and bathe, by all means, Lynborough.”
“By all means! Well said, young man. By all means, that is, which are becoming in opposing a lady. ”

“ Alas, neither conciliation nor dilatoriness was in Lord Lynborough’s line! He read the Marchesa’s letter with appreciation and pleasure. He admired the curtness of its intimation, and the lofty haughtiness with which the writer dismissed the subject of his bathing. But he treated the document—it cannot be said that he did wrong—as a plain defiance. It appeared to him that no further declaration of war was necessary; he was not concerned to consider evidence nor to weigh his case, as Stillford wanted to consider the Marchesa’s evidence and to weigh her case. ”

“ While the question of the path was pending, she had been unable to think of anything else; until it was settled she could think of nobody except of the man in whose hands the settlement lay. Whether Lynborough attracted or repelled, he at least occupied and filled her thoughts. She had come to recognise where she stood and to face the position. Stillford’s steady pessimism left her no hope from an invocation of the law; Lynborough’s dexterity and resource promised her no abiding victory—at best only precarious temporary successes—in a private continuance of the struggle. ”

“ With the merest indication of a bow, he left Lynborough alone, and passed on into the house.
“Well, now!” said Lord Lynborough, rising and lighting a cigar. “This Marchesa! Well, now!”
Stabb’s heavy form came lumbering in from the terrace; he seemed to move more heavily than ever, as though his bulk were even unusually inert. He plumped down into a chair and looked up at Lynborough’s graceful figure.
“I meant what I said at dinner, Ambrose. I wasn’t joking, though I suppose you thought I was. All this affair may amuse you—it worries me. I can’t settle to work. ”

“ As a rule the Marchesa admired and applauded Norah’s candour, praising it for a certain patrician flavour—Norah spoke her mind, let the crowd think what it would! On this occasion she was somehow less pleased; she was even a little startled. She was conscious that any man with whom Norah was gracious enough to fall in love would be subjected to no ordinary assault; the Irish colouring is bad to beat, and Norah had it to perfection; moreover, the aforesaid candour makes matters move ahead.
“After all, it’s my path he’s trespassing on, Norah,” the Marchesa remonstrated. ”

“ Lynborough paid no heed; he was not the man to be put off his reflections by intrusive facts.
“The blank wall of a strange house is like the old green curtain at the theatre. It may rise for you any moment and show you—what? Now what is there at Nab Grange?”
“A lot of country bumpkins, I expect,” growled Stabb.
“No, no,” Wilbraham protested. “I’ll tell you, if you like——”
“What’s there?” Lynborough pursued. “I don’t know. You don’t know—no, you don’t, Roger, and you probably wouldn’t even if you were inside. But I like not knowing—I don’t want to know. We won’t visit at the Grange, I think. ”

“ Years of life shall I live in that moment to-morrow! If it end ill, no human being but myself shall know. If it end well, the world is not great enough to hold, nor the music of its spheres melodious enough to sound, my triumph!”
It will be observed that Lord Lynborough, though indeed no novice in the cruel and tender passion, was appreciably excited on the Eve of the Feast of St John Baptist. In view of so handsome a response, the Marchesa’s kiss of the hand and her murmured “To-morrow” may pass excused of forwardness. ”

“ If she is, all is well for me—for her it will be just a question of her dower of heavenly venturousness. If she is not—in my humble judgment, you, Ambrose Caverly, having put the thing with so excessive a prettiness, shall for your art’s sake perish—you must, in short, if you would end this thing in the manner (creditable to yourself, Ambrose!) in which it has hitherto been conducted, willy-nilly, hot or cold, confirmed in divine dreams or slapped in the face by disenchanting fact—within a brief space of time, propose marriage to this lady. ”

“ But that would not have made a “fair fight”? Perhaps not. Perhaps a fair fight was not to be made at all under the circumstances. But the one thing which, above all, I could not see was the old point that had puzzled me before. It might be fair to soften the conflict between Captain Fullard’s love and Captain Fullard’s duty as a man of ancient stock. It might be fair to undo some of fate’s work and give Nettie Tyler a chance of the man she wanted—freedom to fight for him—just that, you understand. But where came in the chance for herself of which Beatrice Gladwin had spoken? ”

“ The Marchesa laid down her book; Miss Gilletson made no effort to conceal her agitation.
“Why didn’t they come by the path?” cried Norah.
“They couldn’t very well; Lynborough’s sent them in a carriage—with postillions and four horses,” Stillford answered gravely. “The postillions appear to be amused, but the Ambassadors are exceedingly solemn.”
The Marchesa’s spirits rose. If the piece were to be a comedy, she could play her part! The same idea was in Stillford’s mind. “He can’t mean to be very unpleasant if he plays the fool like this,” he said, looking round on the company with a smile. ”

“ What her fair fame is to a proud woman the prestige of his nerve was to Mr Byers. The boy had spoken the decisive word, by chance, by the unerring instinct which in any sphere of thought is genius. In half-an-hour all was planned, the Government of the Prince’s country saved, and the agitation at an end. The necessary resources would not be forthcoming; confidence would revive, the millions would be made, the coup brought off, the triumph won. ”

“ On the top of all this, too, there were constant sounds and signs of merriment and plenty within the city, and the Countess’s men, when they had eaten, took to flinging the bones of their meat to the besiegers outside—an action most insulting, however one might be pleased to interpret it.
Meanwhile Countess Runa sat among her ladies and knights, on her high chair under the emblazoned window, with the sun striking athwart her fair hair. Often she smiled; once or twice she sighed. Perhaps she was wondering what King Stanislas would do next—and when he would understand her message. ”

“ Lynborough’s hands expostulated eloquently.
“But you were the real reason, of course. She thinks you’ve turned us all against her; she says it’s so mean to get her own friends to turn against her.”
“Does she now?” asked Lord Lynborough with a thoughtful smile.
Norah too smiled faintly. “She says she’s not angry with us—she’s just sorry for us—because she understands——”
“What?”
“I mean she says she—she can imagine——” Norah’s smile grew a little more pronounced. “I’m not sure she’d like me to repeat that,” said Norah. “And of course she doesn’t know I’m here at all—and you must never tell her.” ”

“ They grew curious and restless on the lawn; the private audience lasted long, the homage took much time in paying.
“A marvellous thing has come to me,” said Lynborough, speaking slower than his wont, “and with it a great courage. I have seen my dream. This morning I came here not knowing whether I should see it. I don’t speak of the face of my dream-image only, though I could speak till next St John’s Day upon that. I speak to a soul. I think our souls have known one another longer, ay, and better than our faces.” ”

“ Lynborough had an instant to wait for it. He tried to think of the ball and the ball only.
It fell—it fell into his hands; he caught it—fumbled it—caught it—fumbled it again—and at last dropped it on the grass! “Oh!” went in a long-drawn expostulation round the field; and Lynborough heard a voice say plainly:
“Who is that stupid clumsy man?” The voice was the Marchesa’s.
He wheeled round sharply—but her back was turned. He had not seen her face after all!
“Over!” was called. Lynborough apologised abjectly to the second gardener.
“The sun was in my eyes, Peters, and dazzled me,” he pleaded. ”

“ Marquise. What’s that? What’s happening?
Duc. Oh, they’re excited! In truth, my dear Marquise, I have long wished——
Marquise. No, no—what was the shouting?
Duc. Well—er—in fact, I imagine that the first of our friends must have arrived.
Marquise. (Low.) Arrived! (He smiles, takes her hand and kisses it, then holds out the rouge-box with an air of mockery.) No, no—I won’t.
Duc. Why, no! We’ve no need of it. Let me bring the colour to your cheeks. Once on a time I—well, at least I have been there when it came. Ah, it comes now! Listen to me. I have long wished to——
Marquise. To explain? ”

“ But from my goddess her mortal mate is gone—and to explain—nay, not to explain (which would indeed tax every grace of style) —but to let it appear that the homage lingers, abides, and is confined within the letter of the bond—that would seem scarce ‘knightly.’ Therefore, being (as all tell me) more of a fool than most men, and (as I soberly hope) not less of a gentleman, I stand thus. I love the Image I have made out of dim distant sight, prosaic shreds of catalogued description, a vividly creating mind, and—to be candid—the absolute necessity of amusing myself in the country. ”

“ They both began to laugh. “The wretch is as handsome as—as a god,” sighed Helena.
“You’ve seen him?” eagerly questioned Norah; and the glimpse—that tantalising glimpse—on Sandy Nab was confessed to.
The Marchesa sprang up, clenching her fist. “Norah, I should like to have that man at my feet, and then to trample on him! Oh, it’s not only the path! I believe he’s laughing at me all the time!” ”

“ She was chattering gleefully: he laughed in a most contented approval of her, and, probably, with an attention none too deep to the precise purport of her merry words. Besides the two grooms there was another member of the party—one who stood rather aloof on the steps that led up to the hall door. Here was the lady for whom I waited, Beatrice Gladwin, his daughter, who was to have the five hundred a year when he died—who was to have had everything, to have been mistress of all. She stood there in her calm composed handsomeness. ”

“ I don’t take orders—not even from Lord Lynborough.”
She looked splendid—so Roger thought. The underlying red dyed the olive to a brighter hue; her eyes were very proud; the red lips shut decisively. Just like a Roman Empress! Then her face underwent a rapid transformation; the lips parted, the eyes laughed, the cheeks faded to hues less stormy, yet not less beautiful. (These are recorded as Mr Wilbraham’s impressions.) Lightly she laid the tips of her fingers on his arm for just a moment.
“There—don’t let’s talk any more about disagreeable things,” she said. “It’s too beautiful an afternoon. ”

“ The offer might leave his friends still unreconciled; what comfort was that to her when once the fight and the excitement of countering blow with blow were done—when all was over? And it was more likely that what seemed to her cruel would seem to Stabb and Roger reasonable—men had a terribly rigid sense of reason in business matters. They would return to their allegiance; her friends would be ranged on the same side; she would be alone—alone in humiliation and defeat. From that fate in the end only Lynborough himself could rescue her; only the man who threatened her with it could avert it. ”