Lord Carthew

“ In all his life he had thought but little of love for women, and now that the feeling overmastered him, he was inclined to question its authority, as well as to fly into paroxysms of jealousy without sufficient reason. He was not in the least conceited, and rather overrated Lord Carthew’s higher mental endowments, together with his eloquent tongue, high rank and wealth, when pitted against his own dower from nature of bone, and muscle, and manly beauty. He knew that Carthew loved Stella, and it would have seemed very natural to him that his passion should be returned. ”

“ Herself a brunette, she admired fair, florid skins and light hair in others. Lord Carthew was clean-shaved, and Stella’s conventional ideal invariably wore a golden mustache, similar to the one on the face of the wounded man upstairs. Lord Carthew’s upper lip was long, and his lower jaw slightly protruded. To a student of physiognomy, his mouth and chin clearly indicated an intense loyalty and fidelity in love and friendship, combined with a bull-dog obstinacy and tenacity of purpose, and his whole face denoted unusual intelligence, will, and power of loving. ”

“ He was gazing at Carthew with something of his old imperious, indomitable spirit. "You owe—her—your very coronet, my new Lord Jura," said he.
"I'll pay all I owe," said Carthew, to humour him, "if she'll take any payment from me." And at that the Marquis of Ingoldsby scowled still more blackly.
The ex-Emir made a gruesome effort to laugh sardonically.
"She'll take it," said he, "if you're man enough, if you're man enough to master her," said he and sank back on his couch.
"And now—about Captain Dove," Carthew suggested as he brought paper and ink to the table from the desk in one corner. ”

“ Well, miss, the fact is that Lord Carthew, one of the young gentleman as was staying up at the Chase, we think as he’d got a bit of fever over his wound, for about two o’clock this afternoon in he staggers to the inn-yard all alone, and pale as a co’pse. ‘Hullo, my lord, is it you?’ I begins, being the first to see him, when he cuts me short like, telling me it ain’t his name, and that he’s called plain Mr. Pritchard. Then he orders me to saddle Black Bess at once, and be quick about it. ”

“ Lord Carthew knew nothing of the doctor’s musings. One thought alone possessed him. To see Stella as soon as possible, to talk to her, to draw her out of her reserve and gradually get her to confide in him. As if divining his wishes, Dr. Graham suggested an adjournment to the drawing-room, and proposed to Lady Cranstoun, who was reclining on a sofa, a game of chess. ”

“ No human being could have leaped the distance, and Carthew had been further handicapped by his lameness. He shot, as if from a catapult, nearly as high as the arched rock-roof, his elbows close, chin on chest, head between his shoulders, knees at his temples and heels tucked back, and, on the downward curve, reached the lower lip of the chasm, landing on one shoulder, to hang there for the space of a couple of heart-beats, as if poised for the inevitable rebound.
Lord Ingoldsby heard the dull thud of his fall and Sallie's stifled, heart-broken cry. ”

“ Lord Carthew returned, “he has not the slightest wish to settle down in matrimony for many years to come. He has the bad taste, indeed, not to think about women at all; which is, perhaps,” he added, with a laugh, “considering Hilary’s remarkable natural advantages, a very good thing for us plain little fellows.”
CHAPTER X.
FATHER AND DAUGHTER.
Lord Carthew spoke as he did of his friend’s prospects and intentions with perfect frankness and loyalty, never for one moment suspecting the effect which his words might produce in the mind of Stella Cranstoun. ”

“ I should never have made the mistake you did,” she continued, addressing her father, “of marrying a gypsy out of a caravan, and then thinking you could bring her daughter up and palm her off as a Duchess’ grandchild merely by stuffing her head full of book-learning. You and Carthew there are both a couple of fools. But I mean to lead you a pretty dance, and thoroughly enjoy myself. I’m not mad enough to be shut up, and not bad enough to be divorced; and I shall remain Sir Philip Cranstoun’s daughter and Lord Carthew’s wife for years to come. ”

“ Lord Carthew began, drawing a chair to his friend’s bedside. “What does it matter to you for twenty-four hours what they call you? You will probably never see any of these people again. I have introduced us both in one set of names to Miss Cranstoun, and she has passed us on under those names to the doctor and to her mother. It’s impossible to go back now. You had agreed to the arrangement which we started earlier in the day. There is no reason why we should not play our little comedy out just because an unlucky accident has intervened.” ”

“ Here they were met by Lord Carthew’s valet, and Lady Northborough’s maid, lent by the Countess to her daughter-in-law for the honeymoon on account of her exceptional tact and cleverness. Lady Carthew’s bright eyes, glancing about beyond these persons, sought for Stephen Lee, and perceived him at length by the third-class portion of the train. ”

“ Lord Carthew hardly knew how to explain away his friend’s harsh words. Already he had been greatly surprised by Hilary’s antagonistic attitude toward. Sir Philip’s lovely daughter, although, perhaps, in his secret heart he was not ill-pleased thereby. Hilary had neither the intention nor the desire to get married, and he was far too handsome to be regarded without alarm as a rival. It was, therefore, by no means a misfortune that he should have taken so strong a dislike against Stella, although Lord Carthew was too loyal not to praise his friend to her in his absence. ”

“ As a matter of fact, Lord Carthew’s letters had been opened and read by Sir Philip on their arrival each day, and subsequently laid upon the dressing-table of Stella, for the amusement, apparently, of Dakin and Ellen, since the lady to whom they were addressed had never so much as touched one of them. They were good letters, too; full of affection and intelligence, if a little didactic in tone; too good by far to be wasted upon a cynical man of the world and two uneducated female spies. ”

“ The sturdy Yorkshire independence of young Pritchard never degenerated into the roughness which sometimes characterizes Northerners. He was proud of his family in his way. The Pritchards had farmed their own land for over two hundred and fifty years, and their present homestead had been built in the days of Elizabeth. Lord Carthew had had to make the first advances toward friendship, but once he had succeeded in winning Hilary’s respect and liking, the latter was too sensible to withdraw proudly from his companionship because he was not his equal in social position. ”

“ What is your real name?”
“Hilary Pritchard. Here,” he continued, fumbling with one hand in his pocket, “here are cards, letters, and papers, to prove it. No one who knows the Northborough family could suppose that I belong to it. But Lord Carthew was my college chum, and I like him as well almost as one man can like another. I am all the more sorry because I have annoyed a lady whom I know he very greatly admires.”
“So it is Lord Carthew I have been talking to all last evening and this morning,” Stella observed, reflectively. “That explains a great deal.” ”

“ Go after him!” the girl whispered to Lord Carthew, clasping her small hands impulsively, while tears sprang to her eyes. “He is not fit to be alone. I can see he is badly hurt.”
Her words were only too true. A few seconds later Claud, hurrying after his friend, found him leaning against a tree, with set, white face, and half-closed eyes.
“I’m all right,” Hilary muttered in response to Carthew’s anxious inquiry. ”

“ We've a skeleton in the cupboard at Dawn, too, you know, as every respectable Highland family has. But I fancy that what Mr. Carthew really saw to-day was simply some snow-laden bush."
"Dawn must be a very beautiful old place," Slyne remarked to the duchess, and Lord Ingoldsby turned toward Sallie again; as did Mr. Jobling after a glance of extreme disfavour at Carthew, on his other hand. And Carthew could not at all understand the general gravity, until Herries whispered over to him, under cover of the renewed conversation, "You haven't heard of our White Lady here, yet, Mr. Carthew. ”

“ Wounded man called Lord Carthew; friend called Mr. Pritchard. Staying here to be nursed. Have made discovery. Two men have exchanged names. Wounded man is Pritchard, friend Lord Carthew.
“Dakin.”
While this message was being dispatched to her lord and master in London, Lady Cranstoun was peacefully enjoying her favorite diversion of a game of chess with the doctor. Just after the successful accomplishment of a somewhat difficult move, she remembered that her daughter and Mr. Pritchard were being left altogether in tête-à-tête at the other end of the vast drawing-room. ”

“ Lady Cranstoun was saying, “because we are connections. Lord Northborough’s mother was a Douglas, and my aunt.”
She spoke in slow, unmusical tones, with a slight Scotch accent. Lord Carthew rightly judged that, being a Douglas, she would have an exaggerated pride of birth, which was indeed the poor lady’s chief weakness. A single question from him sufficed to start her on her favorite subject of the numerous marriages and relationships of her father, the Duke of Lanark’s, family. ”

“ But there was no man like him for the long jump, or for running either, in spite of his size. At cricket, football, rowing, and swimming, it was the same. He was facile princeps. A splendid fellow, isn’t he?”
“He is certainly very big. He is not clever, then?”
“Well, there are different sorts of cleverness. He doesn’t care very much for reading if there’s a good horse to be had. And by the way, he himself has a beauty—‘Black Bess,’ a long-neck, powerful creature, who carries him as though he were no heavier than a cat.”
“Is Lord Carthew revengeful?” ”

“ Sir Philip is—er—well—he is not a popular man, and Miss Cranstoun, well-bred and affectionate as she most certainly is by nature, is not the kind of girl to endure being driven. She has a good deal of her father’s spirit, in short. Most certainly she does not get it from her mother, although when I knew Lady Gwendolen Douglas before her marriage, she was the handsomest and liveliest of the Duke of Lanark’s daughters. She has altered very greatly, very greatly indeed.”
Reading between the doctor’s words, Lord Carthew realized several things which the former left unsaid. ”

“ If, however, the blackmailer's instalment in the household had turned out an agreeable disappointment to the blackmailed, it was a disappointment of another kind to the author of the plot. Joan Carthew did not find life in Belgrave Square half as amusing as she had pictured it, and though she was surrounded by luxury which might be hers as long as Lord Northmuir lived, each day she grew more restless and discontented. ”

“ Instead of being in your power, you have put yourself in mine. I need fear you no longer. But as a trickster I love you no less than I did as a blackmailer. Indeed, I love you the more for your diabolical cleverness, you beautiful wretch! Stay with me, not as the little adopted cousin, living on charity, but as my wife, and mistress of this house. Or, if you will not, I shall denounce you to the police."
For once, Joan was dumfounded. The tables had been turned upon her with a vengeance. She gasped and could not answer.
"You see, it is my turn to dictate terms now," said Lord Northmuir. ”

“ In a blue envelope at the bottom of his private strong-box they would find his will, a primitive document composed in secrecy, and endorsed: "To be opened when I have gone out for good." In this he had bequeathed all he possessed to "my friend Miss Nina Tallentyre," be she maid, wife, or widow at the moment. Carthew was not a man who loved by halves. ”

“ Joan rose with quiet dignity and followed the man along a pillared hall to a closed door. "The lady, my lord," murmured the footman, in opening it. Joan was left alone with a singularly handsome old man, who sat in a huge cushioned chair by the fireplace. It was summer still, but a fire of ship-logs sparkled with changing rainbow lights on the stone hearth. In a thin hand, Lord Northmuir held an exquisitely bound book. ”

“ I wish to have a thousand pounds a year, either permanently or until my marriage, should I become the wife of a rich man through your introduction."
Lord Northmuir stared at the girl, and if there were not astonishment in his eyes, he was a clever actor. "You are a handsome young woman," he said slowly, when she had finished, "but I begin to be afraid that your mind is unfortunately—er—affected."
"There is a weight upon it," Joan replied—"the weight of your secret. It's so heavy that unless you are very kind, I shall be tempted to throw the burden off by laying it upon others." ”

“ But not the great sin, Harry Carthew—not the Unpardonable Sin.... God will have mercy. He will forgive. Have you not served Him well, and will you not do so, ever the more zealously? And will you not forever more guard your ways, that you fall not again into the pit? I trow that you will! Harry Carthew—Harry Carthew, we will pray together! You are too valuable—This very night I will come, and on our knees we will wrestle with Him as did Jacob of old—”
Joan and Aderhold stood hand in hand. ”

“ At length some one sat up in the darkness, and the voice of Atkinson said:—
"Mr Carthew, sir, I think a song of praise would hearten us all."
"I believe it would," said Carthew. He was not enamoured of the corybantic hymnology of the Salvation Army, but the horror of black darkness was beginning to eat into his soul, and he knew that the others were probably in a worse plight. "What shall we sing?" ”