_ BOOK II. SHADOW
CHAPTER IV. OF A SCARABAEUS RING AND A GOSSAMER VEIL
"Ye're a little pale--yes, a trifle haggard, Perry, but there's nothing like a romantic pallor to attract the feminine regard and captivate the female heart, my boy--I'm married and I know! But your dress is a thought too sombre, I think, considering your youth, though I'll admit it suits you and there's a devilish tragic melancholy Danish-air about ye as should nail the female orb--"
"Don't be an ass, Anthony. How is my cravat?"
"Work of art, begad! How are my pantaloons, Perry? My tailor's made 'em too loose, the damned scoundrel. I'm wrinkled like a rhinoceros, by heaven! Keep your eye on 'em when I bend--"
"My dear Anthony," said I, "if they were any tighter you couldn't bend--"
"Well, my coat, Perry--how is it behind?"
"Admirable!"
"Feels like a sack, demmit! My Loveliness has the eye of a hawk, you'll understand--hasn't seen me for a whole month--nothing like first impressions, begad. Feels like an accursed sack, I tell you--"
"Gentlemen, the carriage awaits!" murmured Clegg from the doorway.
"What--already?" cried Anthony, clapping on his hat and reaching for his surtout.
"You forget we're Lord Wyvelstoke's privileged guests.--Come, Anthony!" and I led the way down to the carriage.
"Ain't you nervous, Perry?" enquired my friend, as we rolled smoothly away.
"No."
"Queer fish--I am!" said he, fidgeting with his cravat.
"You're deuced cool, devilish serene and enigmatical at times, like your uncle Jervas."
"You flatter me, Tony."
"Devil a bit--and this coat of mine feels like a--what the devil are we stopping for?"
We had reached the top of St. James's Street and glancing through the window, I saw our progress blocked momentarily by converging traffic; I was about to lean back in my seat again when my careless glance was arrested by an elegant closed chaise going in the opposite direction; the light was still good, and thus I saw this for a black-bodied chaise picked out in yellow with red wheels. The window was down and thence fluttered a lady's scarf or veil, a delicate gossamer thing spangled with gold stars; as I watched, from the dim interior of the chaise came a woman's white hand to gather up this glittering scarf, a shapely hand sparkling with gems, amongst which I saw one shaped like a scarabaeus; then the chaise rolled away and was gone.
"What the dooce are you staring at, Perry?"
"Nothing!" I answered, frowning. "Nothing!"
His lordship's house was ablaze with lights and, though we were so early, in the street immediately before it was a crowd that pushed and jostled as we mounted the carpeted steps and were ushered into the lofty hall. Here, the footmen having relieved us of our hats and coats, we found the sedate Atkinson as gravely imperturbable as I remembered him two years ago, who acknowledged my greeting with sedate smile and grave obeisance and brought us forthwith to a chamber where I found Lord Wyvelstoke in confabulation with my two uncles.
At our entrance they rose, and his lordship limped forward to welcome us; and looking upon his slender, elegant figure, beholding his impassive face with its air of serene and conscious power, I warmed to the kindness of his smile, even as I had done two years ago.
Our greetings over, his lordship slipped his arm in mine and led me apart.
"Well, Peregrine," said he, with his old, keen look, "I perceive your two years of self-sacrifice have not been in vain; you are grown in every sense. And to-night unselfishness shall have its full reward. To-night, Peregrine, I render back to you your Diana, but a Diana glorified--a woman, and one who has endeared herself to me by her great-hearted and noble qualities. In her is nothing paltry, education has not stunted or narrowed the soul of her. She has been faithful to her task for your sake and faithful to you for Love's sake. By your unselfishness she has indeed become all that we hoped--and more, one to be proud of. But I grow garrulous in her praise--go to her and see for yourself. She is awaiting you in her boudoir with Mrs. Vere-Manville."
So saying, his lordship rang and the silent Atkinson appeared, who led us up a wide stairway and so to a dainty chamber where, bowing, he left us.
A faint perfume was in the air, elusive but sweetly intimate. Upon an ottoman lay a fan and a pair of lace mittens.
"Begad," murmured Anthony, sniffing, "there's nothing like perfume to give a fellow palpitations, and palpitations always make my cravat too tight--devilish thing's choking me! A good woman, Perry, can be the most doocedly alluring, devilish engaging, utterly provoking creature in creation--far more so than--t' other sort. I'm married and I know!"
"Yes," said I, looking down at the discarded fan and deeply stirred by the elusive fragrance.
"Devil take this cravat!" exclaimed Anthony, wrestling with it before a mirror. "If they don't come soon, 't will be wreck, demmit! I wish to heaven they'd come."
"So do I, Anthony!"
"Finishing touches, I expect, Perry--they will do it! And mean to surprise us, of course." But as moment after moment elapsed, his impatience grew. "I wonder what's keeping 'em!" he exclaimed.
"I wonder!" said I.
At the end of ten minutes he was striding up and down the room in a very ferment.
"Damned strange!" he muttered. "Devilish incomprehensible! They must know we're here. Been waiting fifteen minutes now, begad! Getting beyond a joke--deuced exasperating, Perry, y' know. Dammit, man, why can't you say something, do something, instead of sitting there so devilish calm and serene, staring before you like an infernal sphinx?"
At the end of twenty minutes Anthony could wait no more and bidding me follow, jerked open the door and strode out. But I sat there staring before me at an empty fireplace and still all my thought was of the chaise with the red wheels.
But presently my gaze came by chance upon something that lay in a corner of the hearth, a piece of paper crumpled and rent as in passionate haste. For a while I viewed it idly, heedlessly, then all at once I saw a name, a scrawling signature plain to read; next moment the fragment of paper was in my grasp and I read this:
... confess to find you more bewitchingly beautiful than
ever. And therefore, having regard to what transpired
between us in Italy, you will come this evening without fail to
Your ever adoring slave and master,
HAREDALE.
How long I remained staring at this fragment of paper I do not know, but I started suddenly to see Atkinson bowing in the doorway and followed him from the room and downstairs and suddenly found myself in a polite tumult; silks rustled, feathers nodded, turbans bowed and jewels glittered.
But almost at once, amid all this throng, my eyes saw but one. Tall she was, with jewels that sparkled in her dark and lustrous hair; how she was gowned I cannot remember, but her white throat was unadorned save for a small gold chain whence hung a plain gold locket, at sight of which my heart seemed to swell within me.
Flushed and bright-eyed, she stood beside Lord Wyvelstoke to receive the many guests. And viewing her as I stood thus, myself unseen amid the crowd, beholding her serene and noble carriage, her vivid colouring, the classic mould of form and features, the grace and ease of her every movement, I saw she was indeed more beautiful than I dreamed and caught my breath in a very ecstasy. Here was Diana herself, yet a Diana glorified even as Lord Wyvelstoke had said, and with a thousand elusive graces beyond my poor description.
And now I was bowing before her, heard her tremulous murmur of "Peregrine!" and answered back as tremulously, "Diana!" and so, yielding place to others, I passed on, to bow and smile and chatter inanities with such of the guests as were of my acquaintance, but yearning for chance of speech with her alone.
Then, somehow, she was beside me, her hand upon my arm, and we were walking, though whither I cared not, my every sense thrilled by her gracious ease, her stately beauty and all the wonder of her.
I remember we sat and talked of the past two years, of much that she had seen and done; and she questioned me a little breathlessly and always of myself, and I, conscious of the many bewildering changes in her and of those deep, grey eyes looking at me beneath their level brows, or hidden by their down-sweeping black lashes, answered briefly or very much at random, so that she questioned me at last:
"Peregrine, are you listening?"
"Yes--no!" I answered. "How can I? You are so--wonderful!"
At this the rich colour deepened in her cheek and her eyes grew ineffably tender.
"And you," she murmured, "you are still my Peregrine of the Silent Places, the gentleman who stooped to teach me that love could be--a holy thing--"
From the distance stole the sound of music and suddenly, as if conjured up of these sweet strains, were eager gentlemen all about us, vying with each other for the honour of escorting her down to the ballroom.
"Miss Lovel," simpered a gallant young exquisite, his fashionably pallid features peeping out between the silkiest of glossy whiskers, "we are to be favahed, I think, to be charmed and delighted by your incomparable singing--aw, how do, Vereker! Miss Lovel, you behold me a humble ambassador, to beg, to entreat you to keep us waiting no longer--"
"The evening is young, my lord," she answered lightly, "though your impatience is flattering, I vow--"
"Impatience, Miss Lovel?" sighed a gorgeous being in scarlet and epaulettes. "Impatience--haw--is quite inadequate to express our--hum--I should say, my own sentiments; 'impatience' is a word too--ha--altogether too feeble! For my own part I should--haw--I should rather say we--"
"Passion, ma'm, passion!" exclaimed a square-faced gentleman in naval blue. "Speaking as a blunt sailor, passion's the word, Miss Lovel--passion. Passion's the only word, I think, gentlemen?"
"Indubitably!"
"Positively!"
"Per-fectly!"
Hereupon the Army retired a little discomfited but rallied sufficiently to suggest the word "languish."
"Behold us then, Miss Lovel, passioning--" said the Navy.
"And--haw--languishing, Miss Lovel--" sighed the Army.
"Behold us then unanimously beseeching you--aha, here comes Pevensey to add his supplication to ours."
The Duke shot his ruffle, fixed his eyeglass and bowed.
"Permit me, Miss Lovel, to add my petition! Vereker will spare you to us awhile, I am sure!" said he. "To behold a goddess is to be blessed; to hear her sing will be--"
"Joy!" suggested the Navy.
"Divine!" sighed the Army.
"Transcendent rapture!" quoth the Duke.
Diana laughed and rose, looking from one to other with that serene and level gaze I knew so well, and saluted them with a slow and graceful curtsey.
"Indeed you overwhelm me, sirs," said she, smiling. "Your impatience shall be satisfied, you shall passion and languish no longer!" And now as I bowed above her hand came her whisper, "I go to sing for you--to you, Peregrine!"
Then, giving her fan to Navy and her gloves to Army, she took the Duke's arm, and moved away.
And in a while, sitting in a corner of the great ballroom between my two uncles, I saw her stand before this august assemblage serene in her proud, young beauty; saw her calm gaze seek until it met mine and drew my breath a little quicker because of her very loveliness.
Then I felt the smart of sudden tears as from the orchestra whispered a loved and familiar melody that rose, little by little, into that wild and plaintive Zingari air she had sung so often in the Silent Places years ago.
And now from her white throat stole a murmur of sweet sound, swelling gradually to a full, round sweetness, rising to a passion of sorrow and heartbreak, and dying to a sigh, was gone.
For a long moment after the final liquid note had died away was utter stillness, an awed silence; then some one ventured to clap, others joined in, and upon this sound came shouts, cries, cheer on cheer--a frantic ovation.
"By Gad, Perry," exclaimed my uncle George, blinking moist lashes. "She--she can sing, ye know! What I mean is she can--sing, b'gad! What d' you say, Jervas?"
"That you are exactly right, George, she can sing!" answered my uncle Jervas softly. "She and her voice are one in beauty. And she signals you, Perry, I think!"
"Be off, Peregrine!" said my uncle George. "Be off, lucky dog--London will run mad--she'll be the reigning toast to-morrow."
The Army and the Navy yielded her to me with a somewhat bad grace, and her slim fingers on my arm guided me through the throng to a deep curtained window recess, and in this comparative seclusion she turned and faced me, and I saw that she was trembling a little.
"Peregrine," she murmured, wistful and eager, "am I changed very much--too much? I have worked--so hard and all--all for you--O Peregrine--dear--do I truly please you?"
"Please me!" I mumbled. "Oh, my Diana--!" Her lashes drooped and then, as she swayed to me, I clasped her in my arms and, tremulous, fragrant, vital with love and youth, she gave her lips to mine.
"Is it worth the years of waiting?" she whispered beneath my kisses.
"God knows it!" I answered and lifted her hand to my lips and then stood utterly still, cold with a sudden, horrible sickness--staring at this white hand, where, amid sparkling gems, I saw the dull oval of a scarabaeus ring.
"What is it, Peregrine?" she questioned, a little breathlessly. "This scarab? It is one my dear pal bought me in Egypt. Come away, dear, let us run from the crowd--let us steal away together, somewhere--anywhere --you and I." And speaking, she drew about her shoulders a scarf, a filmy thing of gossamer, spangled with gold stars. "Quick, Peregrine!" she breathed. "There is the duke--coming this way, quick--before he spies us!"
"Impossible!" I answered, wondering to hear myself speaking so lightly. "His Grace has seen us already--besides, your duty lies here to-night."
"Very well, dear Peregrine," she sighed, "but I had hoped you--you would have bade me forget duty--a little while."
So she turned away and indistinctly I heard the duke begging her to sing again; then I watched her go, smiling and bowing to her, but with a buzzing in my brain and all hell raging in my breast.
A black-bodied chaise--picked out in yellow--red wheels--Captain Danby!
For a long time I stood in the shadow of the window curtains staring out upon a moon hidden ever and anon in flying cloud-wrack; but at last I turned and wandered away with some vague idea of finding Anthony, and as I went, the lights and glitter, the sounds of voices and laughter grew ever more distasteful, and turning my back on it all, I found my way into a wide corridor. And here, in a shady alcove screened by curtains, I espied Anthony kissing his wife; her round, white arms were about his neck, crushing his cravat woefully, but seeing the rapture in their faces I stole away and left them.
Reaching the hall I bade a footman summon my carriage, but on second thoughts countermanded the order and, donning hat and cloak, set out to walk home to my chambers. A wind was abroad and I walked bareheaded to cool the fevered throbbing of my temples, but this wind found voices to mock me and at my heels ran demons, gibbering obscenities.
Reaching my door at last, I thundered on the knocker until it opened, and brushing past the pallid Clegg, bade him order my horse.
"Horse, sir?" he repeated, a note of interest in his usually toneless voice. "Do you propose to go riding, sir?"
"I do!"
"Yes, sir--which horse do you--?"
"Wildfire. Have him brought round at once!"
"Very good, sir!"
Not waiting for Clegg's assistance, I slipped off my evening garments and was pulling on my riding boots when I heard the tattoo of Wildfire's impatient hoofs upon the roadway.
"What time may I expect you back, sir?" enquired Clegg, as I jingled downstairs.
"I cannot say. I may be late or very early so--get to bed."
"If you are travelling far, sir, might I suggest that your pistols are ready in their holsters upstairs--"
"I shall not need them!" said I, and stepped out into the street where Wildfire danced and capered in the grasp of Tom, my groom.
"He do be werry fresh, sir," warned Tom.
"So much the better!" said I. "Hold him until I give the word."
So saying, I swung to saddle, settled feet in stirrups and gripped the reins short in gloved hand.
"An evil night, sir!" said Clegg. "And you won't take your pistols?"
"No! Let go, Tom!"
Back sprang the groom and, snorting joyfully, Wildfire sprang away. _