The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn: A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot by - (guided reading books .txt) 📕

a small share of vanity, and only a very modest appreciation of her own attractions, and it seemed to her as though her cousin, moving as he did in the gay world of fashion, must surely see many other maidens tenfold more beautiful and graceful. Suppose he were to repent of his secret betrothal; suppose his troth plight weighed heavy on his spirit? what misery that would be for both! And during these long months of silence such thoughts and fears had preyed upon the girl's spirit, and had produced in her the change that both her parents had observed.

Wherefore now that the confession had been made, and the burdensome secret was a secret no longer, a reaction set in that was almost like relief. She felt certain, since all was known, that Culverhouse would come forward and stand boldly beside her and lay claim to her hand before the world as he had talked of doing when he had led her to the troth plight on that May Day that seemed so long ago now.

Even the thought of the journey and the visit to her father's great aunts was not altogether distasteful. She was more afraid of meeting her mother's sorrowful glances than stern ones from strangers. Kate had no lack of courage, and the love of variety and change was implanted in her as strongly as it is in most young things; so that when Philip knocked at her door as the first rays of the October sun were gilding the trees and fields, it was with a smiling face that she opened to him, whilst he looked at her with something of smiling surprise in his glance.

"Art ready, my sister? the horses will be at the door in a few short minutes. I am glad to see thee so bright and happy. I had feared to discover thee bathed in tears of woe."

"Perchance I ought to be heavier hearted than I am," answered Kate, with a swift glance at Philip through her long lashes. "I do repent me that I have angered our father and mother. I know that I have been wrong to keep the secret; perchance I was wrong to let Culverhouse persuade me. But that the thing is done I cannot truly repent; the only thing which would make me wish that vow unsaid would be if Culverhouse were to wish to be free of his troth plight."

"Which I trow he never will be," answered Philip warmly, as he laid his hand on Kate's shoulder.

Those two were very near akin in spirit and in sympathy. Kate knew all his love for Petronella, and his anxiety for her since her flight (though he fully believed her to be in hiding with Cuthbert in the forest, albeit he had not been able to discover them), and he had strong fellow feeling with the impulsive lovers.

"He has never loved any but thee, my sister, since the days we played together as children. Save that concealment ever leads to trouble, and that wedlock vows are too sacred to be made playthings of, I could find it in my heart to wish that Petronella and I were wed in like fashion. But our mother is sorely grieved at what thou hast done--going before a tonsured priest, with none of thine own kindred by, to take vows which should have had the sanction of thy parents before they passed thy lips, and should have been made in different fashion and in a different place. Howbeit no doubt time will soften her anger, and she will grow reconciled to the thought. When we have made all inquiries anent this priest and his ways, my father and I will to London to speak with Lord Andover of this business. I trust all will end well for thee, sister. But thou must learn in thy captivity to be a patient and discreet maiden, that they do not fear to give thee to Culverhouse at last, since it must needs be so."

Kate looked up gratefully, comforted by the kind tone of her brother's words.

"In very sooth I will try, Philip. I thank thee for thy good counsel. I will be patient and discreet towards my great aunts. I will strive to show them all due reverence, that they may satisfy my mother when she makes inquiry of them."

Kate long remembered the ride with her father and brother through the forest and across the heath that day. Her father was stern and grave, and scarcely addressed a single word to her. Philip and she talked a little, but were affected by this silence of displeasure, and observed a befitting decorum and quietness. Sir Richard made his daughter take him to the spot of her troth plight, and show him exactly how and where it had taken place. As they stopped to bait the horses at the little hostelry, he made various inquiries concerning the priest and his annual visitation to the wake on May Day, and his face looked none the less severe as he heard the replies.

"Methinks the knot hath been something tightly tied--too tight for it to be easily unloosed," whispered Philip to his sister as he lifted her to the saddle after the noontide halt; and she could not but answer by a bright smile, which she saw reflected in his face.

The day, which had been bright and fine, turned dull and lowering as the riders neared the Cross Way House, as the residence of Lady Humbert was called; and Kate looked curiously at the house as they approached it, wondering what sort of a life its inmates led.

To her eyes, accustomed to the seclusion of park and grounds, the most striking feature of this house was that it stood actually upon the road itself. It occupied an angle of the cross formed by the junction of four roads, and its north and east windows looked out straight upon these two highways, with nothing intervening between them but some twenty feet of paved walk enclosed behind walls ten feet high, and guarded by strong gates of wrought iron.

Doubtless to the south and west there were gardens and grounds. The walls seemed to run a long way along the road, and Kate felt certain that she should find seclusion and privacy there. She could see tall trees rearing their heads above the wall, and was certain from the aspect of the house, which was sufficiently imposing, that she should find within the ease and luxury to which she was accustomed.

On the whole, she rather liked the prospect of looking out upon the roads. If Culverhouse were to ride by, she could signal to him from the windows. She could watch the fine folk passing to and fro on their way to London. Possibly a belated traveller might ask shelter at the house, and amuse them with tales of adventure and peril. Kate had time to think of many things as their horses stood at the gates awaiting admittance; and when these were thrown back at last, and they rode through an archway and into a centre courtyard round which the house was built, the girl was delighted with everything; for the quadrangular structure was a novelty to her, and a novelty which took her fancy not a little. There were servants to look after the horses; and it was plain the travellers were expected, for they were quickly ushered into the house by one of the great doors which opened on a wide flight of steps leading down into the court, and were there met by an aged majordomo, who greeted them with ceremonious solemnity.

"My lady is looking for you, sir," he said to Sir Richard; and turning to Kate, he added, in the same mechanical fashion, "Your maid will show you to your room, madam. My lady will see you after you have recovered from the fatigues of the journey."

Kate was not in the least fatigued, but she was too well brought up to remonstrate in any way. The maid was hovering in the background; an elderly woman with a capable face and slightly repellent manner. It was plain to Kate that her relatives would not receive her till they had learned more of the details of her banishment from home from her father, and had made up their minds how to treat her. She felt that even the serving woman regarded her somewhat in the light of a culprit, and it was with a mind divided betwixt amusement and girlish shame that she followed the attendant into the bed chamber that had been prepared for her.

This was a more sumptuous apartment than her room at home, and looked comfortable enough in the glow of the great fire of logs. The hangings of the bed were dark and heavy, and the carved oak furniture was also sombre in its polished blackness; but there was a thick square carpet on the floor, which was a luxury Kate had never possessed in her bed chamber before, and the mirrors and silver sconces for the candles all bespoke an ease and luxury that reminded Kate of what life would be like when she lived as a Countess or Viscountess in her own house, with Lord Culverhouse as lord and master.

"This is your room," said the woman. "Your mails arrived earlier in the day, and your things have been put away in the cupboard there and in the bureau yonder. My lady gave orders you were to be served with something to eat and drink in your own room, and that she would visit you later. There is another young lady visiting in the house; she will come and see you if you will permit her."

"Very willingly," answered Kate, who was always ready for company, and very curious to know something about these great aunts of hers, whom she had never seen as yet. "I shall be glad of food, as I liked not what they served us with at the inn in the forest. As for the young lady, albeit I know not who she can be, I should gladly welcome her. I have no love for too much of my own company; wherefore the sooner she comes the better shall I be pleased."

The woman withdrew, and Kate removed her hat and gloves, and looked about her with quick, searching glances.

"A good room in sooth, and no bad prison, if prisoner I am to be. And since I may have company, I can scarce be in such dire disgrace as that. I wonder who this visitor may be? Some Wyvern, belike; but doubtless we shall learn to take pleasure in each other.

"Soft! are those steps without? Yes; and some one knocks at the door.

"Enter, enter, I pray. I am right glad--What! do my eyes deceive me? Sure I am in some strange dream! Petronella! Surely it cannot be Petronella! The features are the same; but the Petronella I once knew was wan and frail as a fair wood lily, and thou--nay, but it cannot be!"

"But it is--it is!" cried the girl, making a bound forward and flinging her arms round Kate's neck in an ecstasy of happiness; "and, O Kate, I have seen him again! I saw him ride to the door by thy side! Perchance I shall even have words with him ere he journey forth again! Ah, how rejoiced was I when I heard that thou wert coming! O Kate, I have such news for thee--such news, such news!"

The two girls were folded in each other's arms. Between every few words they paused to kiss and laugh in the very exuberance of their happiness. It seemed like a dream to Kate; she could scarce believe her eyes.

"Petronella--but how earnest thou here?"

"I came when the weather grew so inclement that Cuthbert would no longer let me share his forest life. He brought me to this house, and our aunts, when they heard our story, opened their doors to me; and I have been here three whole weeks--ever since the summer's heats broke in storms of rain. But here I go by the name of Ellen Wyvern, lest haply it should come to my father's ears that I am here, and he should fetch me away. But I have almost ceased to quake at that thought; I have had my freedom so long."

"I scarce know thee, thou art so changed--so full of sunshine and courage," cried Kate. "Erstwhile thou wert like a creature of moonlight and vapour; a breath seemed as though it would blow thee away. What has befallen to change thee so? What hast thou been doing all this while? And where is Cuthbert?"

"Cuthbert is yet in the forest," answered Petronella, sinking her voice to the merest whisper, as if afraid that even the walls would have ears. "His task is not yet finished. It is one that takes great skill and patience and watchfulness. But it is being accomplished by slow and sure degrees. Ah, Kate! what news thinkest thou