WHEN Lady Clancarty ascended1 the water stairs on her return from the Tower she was outwardly calm, the floodtide of her emotion having spent itself in the outburst at the Traitor2’s Gate. Young Mackie, still acting3 as her sole escort, came up the steps behind her and the two, pausing at the top, saw dawn breaking over the river. Like a wraith4 the fog rolled up along the water, the sky grew pale and in the far east a light shone, keen and cold. The streets were unusually quiet; it was a little before the hour when a city stirs for its first breath; darkness lay deeply in the narrow lanes, and silence. On the river, which bristled5 with a forest of masts, some ships put up their sails.
Suddenly they heard a woman’s scream and saw two figures struggling at the mouth of the lane before them. Mackie started toward[Pg 261] them, but the woman broke away and ran screaming to the water side, almost brushing against Lady Clancarty, and as she did so there was a cry of recognition and she fell upon her neck, weeping and exclaiming. It was Alice Lynn. Sir Edward seized the man.
But the fellow, struggling lustily for his liberty, broke out with an Irish oath, and Mackie knew him.
“You are Lord Clancarty’s man,” he said in surprise, releasing him; “what means this? I am Sir Edward Mackie.”
“Faix, there’s naything the matther,” replied Denis sullenly7, rubbing his neck; “I was jist givin’ thet dasignin’ hizzy a shaking fer bethrayin’ me Lord Clancarty—curse her!”
“You are mistaken, my man,” said Mackie, understanding Denis’s error, “I was at Secretary Vernon’s when Lord Spencer came in for the warrant. Lady Clancarty has just come from the Tower where she would fain have shared your master’s imprisonment8. Her woman here, I doubt not, is as faithful.”
“The saints be praised!” exclaimed Denis piously9, “I couldn’t b’lave ill of her ladyship, but whin there’s snake wurrk loike this, yer[Pg 262] honor, I’m afther looking fer th’ woman; ’twas a woman, sir, that started in these dalings with th’ ould serpent himself. Me lord’s as good as did now,—woe’s me!”
“Say nothing like that to my lady, I charge you,” said Mackie sharply, “she cannot bear it.”
At the moment, Betty called Denis, having heard Alice’s story and divining his mistake.
“I will forgive you, Denis,” she said, “since it was for my lord’s sake; but you have nearly killed my poor girl with fright and she was only seeking me.”
“Forgive me, your ladyship,” he said humbly10, “I can but die fer ye, me poor lord—” he broke down, and Lady Clancarty said no more; she, too, was overcome.
It did not occur to Denis to apologize to the victim of his mistaken vengeance11, but when he learned that Lady Clancarty intended to make another attempt to get into the Tower, he joined himself to her party, without asking permission, and followed on, determined12 to go with her to his master, ignoring Alice’s abhorrence13.
It was with this strangely assorted14 company that Lady Clancarty returned at daybreak to her father’s house. Not to remain, as she told[Pg 263] young Mackie, for never again would she dwell under the same roof with the man who had betrayed her husband.
The events of the night, quite as exciting at home as abroad, had made the Earl of Sunderland wakeful, so it happened that he was out of bed when his daughter sought him in his own room. She found him, clad in a great shag gown, sitting in an armchair by the fire, calmly sipping15 a cup of chocolate, his bland16 countenance17 showing no sign of perturbation, no matter what his emotions might have been. Nor did he express any surprise at his daughter’s appearance in her strange guise18 at that unusual hour. He smiled upon her quite benignly19 and waved her toward a chair.
Betty looked at him sadly. She knew only too well how hard it was to touch his heart under that polished exterior21, if heart he had at all, and she had often doubted it.
“You will not sit down?” he asked with apparent surprise; “you must be tired.”
“I do not wish to rest here,” she replied sadly, “I cannot under the same roof with Spencer,”—she would not call him her brother; “I know you have heard all, sir,”[Pg 264] she added, watching him keenly—hoping, fearing; “I have come here to pray your good offices with the king—to ask you to help your own daughter to save her husband from death!”
Lord Sunderland held up his hand deprecatingly.
“My love,” he said, “I feared as much! Pray do not ask the impossible! You know how they hate me in Parliament because I am supposed to have the king’s ear. If I meddle22 in this they will bring in a bill of attainder,—it is a favorite scheme of theirs,” he added bitterly.
“But, father, they will kill my husband,” cried Betty, “they will behead him for high treason, and he only came here to see me!”
“He is a traitor, though, my dear,” he remarked, “and quite a notorious one. My dear Betty, don’t make a scene—you know nothing about the man.”
“He is my husband,” she cried with passionate24 grief, “is that no tie?”
“I’ve known several fine ladies who did not consider it one,” replied the earl, with a titter, “notably my Lady Shrewsbury the elder.”
[Pg 265]“An infamous25 creature, and you know it!” cried Betty, with something of her old spirit, and then she threw herself on her knees beside him; “father, father,” she pleaded, “you were ever kind to me—oh, pity me, help me to save him!”
Sunderland tried to raise her; he even caressed26 her bowed head. He detested27 a scene, and he did not know how to manage this beautiful young creature.
“My child,” he said, “this will pass; you do not know him well enough to feel his loss. The marriage was my folly28; your release—though doubtless painful and cruel—will be a blessing29 in disguise.”
“I love him,” she declared simply, “his death upon the block would kill me.”
“Tut, tut!” replied her father heartlessly; “we young people always die so easily.”
“I would rather die than find those of my own blood so indifferent to my wretchedness,” cried Betty.
“Perhaps you are indifferent, too,” rejoined the earl; “your mother lies ill now at Windsor.”
“I am sorry,” Betty said, “but I must try to save my husband. Father, father!” she clung to his hand weeping, “if you ever loved[Pg 266] me—as an infant, as a child, as a young girl,—do not abandon me now. Oh, help me to save him! Do you not remember when you used to carry me in your arms—your little girl? Oh, you were kind to me, father, kinder than any one else! You will not break my heart now? My mother never cared for me as you did—never caressed me so, never brought me toys. I loved you then, sir, and I love you now. Have you no place in your heart for me—your daughter, your little girl, Elizabeth? Go to the king—you have but to ask; they say he is merciful, and he trusts you. Oh, save Donough!”
Lord Sunderland sighed. “My dear,” he said, “I would gladly help you, but you ask the impossible. I have no power to save a traitor. You know as well as I that even the Habeas Corpus Act is suspended on account of that rogue Bernardi and his accomplices31; you know the story of the Fenwick attainder. How can you ask me to risk my head and my family reputation for this Irishman? You fancy you love him, Betty, but ’tis only your fancy. There are other men as brave,” he added, with a smile; “you need not be a widow long.”
Betty sprang to her feet.
[Pg 267]“You, too, insult me—and you are my father. Oh, I have no father, then, any more—the old, dear memories are but dreams—the hand that caressed my childish head can deal me such a blow as this! Ah, it breaks my heart! Alas32, there is no earthly hope!”
Lord Sunderland poured out another cup of chocolate.
“No,” he replied calmly, “not for Clancarty. Really, my dear, I must be firm, I cannot and I will not risk my reputation, perhaps my life, for—” he shrugged33 his shoulders, “a Jacobite rogue.”
She said nothing, but she gave him a look so eloquent34 that he shrank a little, with all his effrontery35, as she turned to leave the room. At the door she paused and waved her hand to him with a gesture of infinite sadness.
“Farewell, father,” she said softly, “farewell! I loved you—I love you still—and I forgive you—as I pray to be forgiven. I go, your daughter no longer—since you disown Clancarty’s wife. I have no home, no father—only my husband! Farewell, farewell!”
He heard the low sound of her weeping as she went out, her head bowed and her whole beautiful young figure full of dejection. She felt herself an outcast.
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1
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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piously
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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13
abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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14
assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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15
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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17
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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18
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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benignly
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| adv.仁慈地，亲切地 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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23
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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30
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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31
accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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32
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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33
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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34
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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