"We must save ourselves by flight; they are six to one!" he said in low tones to his companions, who kept pace for pace at his side. "It will be a race for life; and if we are beaten, all we can do is to sell our lives as dearly as may be. It is not robbery alone, it is vengeance, the old grudge against the Trevlyns. But if we can but make Cross Way House ere we are outridden, we may save ourselves yet."

Chapter 24: Kate's Courage.

Lady Humbert had left the Cross Way House for a three days' visit to a sick relative who had sent an urgent message to her. Mistress Dowsabel remained in charge of the house and its small establishment, lessened considerably by the removal of four of the men servants who had attended their mistress on her journey.

Mistress Dowsabel would gladly have accompanied her sister, for she was always nervous and ill at ease in her absence, but she was withheld by two considerations. In the first place, she was suffering from what was then termed a rheum, which we should call a bad cold in the head, so that the idea of a wet cold journey of some hours' duration was exceedingly unwelcome; in the second, it was not thought seemly by either sister that the young girls, their guests, should be left in the house without some guardian and protector; and Mistress Dowsabel therefore decided to put her fears on one side and remain in charge.

"And beside, what is there to fear?" Lady Humbert had said, in her decisive and cheery fashion. "We are quiet and peaceable folks, and have naught to dread either at home or abroad. I shall strive to be but three nights absent; and our merry Kate will uphold thy spirits, sister, till my return. Thou wilt be better by the fireside than journeying in the saddle this tempestuous weather."

This fact was self evident, and Mistress Dowsabel had no desire to leave the fireside.

"I must e'en do the best I can without thee, sister," she said. "I doubt not my fears be foolish. I will strive that the girls be not affected thereby."

"I trow it would be no easy matter to teach them to Kate," said Lady Humbert with a smile. "She has all the spirit of Wyvern and Trevlyn combined. She will be a stanch protector for thee, Dowsabel, if thou art troubled by strange noises in the wainscot, or by the barking of the dogs without."

"Thou thinkest me a sad coward, sister; and so perchance I am," said meek Mistress Dowsabel. "But if ever thou art absent from the house, I am beset by a thousand fears that a.s.sail me not at any other time. My heart is heavy as lead within me now."

But Lady Humbert could not delay her journey on that account. She said something equivalent to "Fiddle dee dee!" and hastened forward her preparations with her customary energy. Kate flitted about and chattered merrily to her, having won her way by that time to a very soft spot in the heart of her ancient kinswoman.

"I am glad to leave thee with thy aunt Dowsabel, child," said Lady Humbert before she left. "Ellen will read to her and see to her possets and her little fire-side comforts; but thou wilt a.s.sist her to overlook the household and servants, and cheer up her spirits and her courage if either should flag. She is strangely timid when I am not by. Thou must do what thou canst to keep away her fears."

"Fears!" echoed Kate, laughing; "why, wherefore should we fear?"

"There is small cause, but Dowsabel is by nature timorous, and she will lean on thee, child though thou art, when I am gone. There be certain charges I would lay upon thee. The men will be gone, all but old Thomas within doors and Joshua without; wherefore I will ask thee to go round the house thyself at dusk each eve, and see that all bolts and bars be securely drawn. That is Andrew's work, but he will be with me. Dyson and thou hadst better go together--or thou and Cherry. Thou wilt not be afraid of such a task?"

"Afraid? marry no! Cherry and I will do it gladly. She is a merry-hearted la.s.sie, and I like her well. Is there aught else, my lady aunt?"

Lady Humbert, standing beside the fire and drawing on her riding gloves, looked into Kate's bright face with a thoughtful smile.

"If I could trust thy discretion as I trust thy courage and sense, my giddy-pated maiden, there is one more charge I would lay upon thee."

The light of laughter in Kate's eyes changed suddenly to something deeper and graver. She came one step nearer and laid her hand on Lady Humbert's arm.

"Try me," she said simply. "Methinks I am not so giddy as they deem me. I have thought, I have suffered, I have been forced to possess my soul in patience. Try and see if I may not be trusted in this thing."

Lady Humbert gazed a moment into the clear eyes, and then said:

"I will try thee, child. It is no such heavy charge I would lay upon thee, yet it is one that thy aunt Dowsabel would fear to undertake. She would fain close the doors of the Cross Way House against all strangers and wayfarers who come to them in the absence of the mistress; but that is not my wish. Dost thou know, child, the name the Cross Way House has ever held with those who fare through the forest tracks?"

"I have heard it spoken of as a place where none in need is ever turned away," answered Kate.

"Ay, and so it was in those good old days when Wyverns held open house here, and were beloved from far and near. Alas! those good old days are pa.s.sed away; for our fortunes are fallen, and we have no longer the power to entertain in such bounteous fashion. And yet I have striven, as thou hast doubtless seen, that the poor, the aged, the sick, and the needy are never turned from these doors without bite or sup to cheer their hearts and send them rejoicing on their way. Strange persons come to the house from time to time; but all are admitted to such good cheer as is ours to offer, and never has my hospitality been abused. Fugitives from the robbers of the road have been admitted here; yet never has this lone house been attacked. Wounded robbers have sought shelter here, bleeding nigh to death, and their wounds have been dressed by these hands, and their lives saved through our ministrations. To the cry of poverty or distress the doors have ever opened, be the distressed one worthy or no. Never have we had cause to regret what we have done for evil men or good. Never has our hospitality been repaid by treachery or deceit."

"And now?" asked Kate as Lady Humbert paused.

"Now my timid sister would have the doors closed for the days that I am absent and the men with me. She says she fears for the treasure. She says there is more peril now than of old. She may be right; but I see not why the danger be greater, since none know the secret save those who are pledged to keep it, and it goes against me that the traditions of the house should be broken. Can I trust thee, Kate, to take my place in this? Wilt thou strive to still thy aunt's fears and keep watch over all who come and go, that our doors may still open to the poor, whilst no needless terrors be inflicted on the timid women who will be forced to keep guard alone?"

"I will gladly strive to do all I may," answered Kate, who had been Lady Humbert's companion now long enough to know much of her methods.

"It may well be that none will come," said Lady Humbert cheerfully, with a smile and a nod of approval. "These be ill days for travellers, and in the winter season few pa.s.s this way. But such as do seek shelter from the storm or from hunger or peril must not be turned away disappointed. Look to it, Kate. I trust that matter to thee. I shall ask thee for the account of thy stewardship on my return."

And then the mistress of the house gathered her train together and set forth, riding her steady old horse as fearlessly as though she had been fifty years younger, and nodding a brisk farewell all round as she turned out of the gate upon the highway so close at hand.

Mistress Dowsabel wept feebly for a short while, and seemed disposed to start and tremble at every sound. But Petronella got a book and settled herself to read to her, whilst she forgot her fears in the intricacies of her well-beloved tapestry work. As for Kate, she called to Cherry, and began to set about those household duties which the mistress of the house had given into her charge, so that the timid invalid might be spared all trouble and anxiety.

Cherry was a very happy girl in those days. Her position in that household was slightly anomalous, and at first it had been a little difficult to find the right niche for her. As the niece of Dyson, who had summoned her thither to act in the capacity of lady's maid, her place would by rights have been the servants' hall and kitchen; but then, as Kate had seen at once, it would scarce be right for Cuthbert Trevlyn's future wife to take so lowly a station as that of a serving wench.

Cuthbert was no longer the impecunious son of Nicholas Trevlyn, dependent upon his own wit and energy for the place he might hold in the world. He was the finder of that vast h.o.a.rd of lost treasure, which had proved so far more valuable than the most sanguine hopes had pictured. By every rule of right and justice a large share of this treasure should come to him. He would be a man of wealth and station; and it had been openly announced by these sisters of the house of Wyvern that they intended to make him their heir. They had taken a great liking to him. They had no near kindred of their own. He was the grandson of one of the Wyverns, and a degree nearer them than the other Trevlyns, so they were quite resolved upon this step.

So when Kate, with the courage and frankness inherent in her nature, had told the old ladies of Cuthbert's betrothal, Petronella adding all she knew of the constancy of her brother's attachment to Martin Holt's daughter, Lady Humbert recognized in a moment that it would not do to treat the girl as a mere dependent. She must be admitted to some other position, and trained for that station in life to which her marriage would ent.i.tle her.

Lady Humbert had all the cla.s.s exclusiveness of her race; but she was a large-hearted woman to boot, and had an uncommon share of common sense. She would have been glad had Cuthbert's choice fallen elsewhere; but as it had not done so, and as Cherry was as faithful to him as he to her, there was only one thing to be done, and that was to make the best of the matter, and strive to see the best side only. The girl must be admitted to the position of companion to Petronella and Kate. She must be taught the refinements of life in another station, and gradually fitted for the life that lay before her.

It had been a great relief to find the girl so pretty, so gentle in her ways, so eager to please, so naturally dainty and particular. Cherry had quick apprehension and ready adaptability of nature. She took to the new ways like a duck to the water. She had a sweet voice and a refined fashion of speaking. In a very short while she looked as much at home in the presence of the ladies as Petronella herself. Kate found indeed that the city-bred maiden was more advanced in many things than the recluse of the Gate House. She set herself busily to the task of drilling both her companions in the arts of dancing, deportment, the use of the globes, and of playing upon the harpsichord; and found in both apt and eager pupils. Both girls had much natural grace and a great desire to improve themselves. Petronella was by nature dreamy and studious, whilst Cherry was all life, brightness, and vivacity. She and Kate gradually drew together, and would spend hours rambling in the extensive gardens and shrubberies behind the house, or riding out, with Andrew in attendance, through some of the forest tracks.

Petronella, on the other hand, preferred remaining at home, reading to the elderly ladies, and being by them instructed in many matters of political and religious import. Her mind was rapidly enlarging. She was unconsciously fitting herself daily more and more to be Philip's wife; whilst their very differences seemed to draw the three girls more closely together, and they felt by this time like sisters as well as companions.

Lady Humbert's absence was a matter of some excitement to Kate and Cherry, upon whom many small duties now devolved.

The house certainly felt lonely with so many of its ordinary inhabitants absent. The great empty rooms were kept strictly locked. The gates in front of the house were likewise locked by day as well as night, and only the small door at the back was to be opened until the return of the mistress. So the timid Dowsabel had decreed; and she had directed that the keys of the outer doors should be brought to her; and by day they were laid in her sight upon the chimney ledge, whilst at night they were placed beneath her pillow. Kate made a wry face, but did not otherwise protest. Time was pa.s.sing quietly by, and there seemed little probability that their tranquillity would be disturbed.

"I would fain wish for some small adventure in Lady Humbert's absence, just to show that she has not put her faith in us in vain!" said Kate, as the girls sought their couch on the second night of the mistress's absence. "There has not been so much as a beggar to the gate. These storms of wind and rain seem to keep all within doors."

"I fear me I am but a coward," answered Petronella, "for I am glad when night follows day and there be naught to alarm us. Perchance sitting with our aunt Dowsabel so much, I learn somewhat of her fears from her."

"A truce to fear!" cried Kate, as she unbound her hair and tossed the heavy mane out of her eyes and over her shoulders. "Would that we lived in days when women might do and dare somewhat for those they loved, or for their country! I should love to have to hold this house against a rabble of hooting foes!"

"So should not I," answered Petronella. "I love not strife and warfare; I am for quietude and peace," and she smiled into Kate's flushed face, whilst Cherry looked from one to the other, scarce knowing with which she sided.

She had something of Kate's daring, and dearly admired it in her; but she shared in part Petronella's shrinking from strife and danger, a shrinking that to Kate was inexplicable.

The night came and went in quietness and peace. The day pa.s.sed without any event. Kate paced impatiently up and down the big hall as the sun went down in red and gold, sullen and lowering as it neared the horizon, but shining to the last. She had not been beyond the limits of the garden since Lady Humbert had gone. Now it seemed as if a restless fit had come upon her, and grasping Cherry by the arm, she cried:

"Let us go into the long gallery overhead and dance--dance--dance! My feet are fairly aching for some exercise. Come thou and dance with me."

Kate's word was almost always law to Cherry, though she thought it a dreary place to select just at this hour of approaching darkness. Still, there would be a little light glimmering in through that long row of windows, and with Kate who would be afraid?

The key was in the door. The polished boards of the long ballroom lay gleaming with ghostly shimmer in the fading light. The pictures on the walls seemed to stare at the two intruders with cold displeasure. Cherry shivered slightly as the chill struck her. It seemed to her as if these stately knights and dames themselves must surely come down from their frames at such an hour as this; and silently disport themselves in this long gallery. She was glad to feel Kate's arm about her as she commenced circling round and round in her light and airy fashion. As the warm blood began tingling in their veins the pace grew faster and faster, and Cherry's chilliness and fear alike left her. Up and down, round and round, flew the light girlish feet. The exercise was delightful to both after the inaction of two long days. Up and down, round and round, as though they would never tire; and as they danced the twilight changed to night, and only glimmering moonbeams fell within the row of windows, lighted the long gallery, and fell upon the flickering figures of the two girls.

But their eyes had grown used to the darkness, and they heeded it not. Cherry's thoughts had flown off to Cuthbert, Kate's to Culverhouse. The rapid exercise stimulated thought, and both hearts beat high with the glowing hope of youth. When at last they paused, laughing and breathless, at the upper end of the long room, their eyes were shining brightly, there was a vivid colour in their checks. They only wished to gather breath and then on again.

"It is hot--it is stifling!" cried Kate, as she threw back her tumbled hair. "I must have air--air! I will open this window; we can look out such a way from it. O Cherry, think--this big window looks straight out towards London! Ah, why are not our eyes strong enough to see our loved ones there!"

Cherry laughed and blushed in the darkness, and Kate's strong hand undid the bolt and latch and flung the great cas.e.m.e.nt wide. The cool night air rushed in, and both girls, heated with exercise, were glad to rest their elbows on the stone mullion and lean out into the breezy night.

"It is delicious!" cried Kate; "it is the elixir of life!"