Volume Three—Chapter Five.
Perturbations.
Had Oldroyd been a little sooner, he would have formed a different opinion about Caleb Kent and his appealing to Marjorie for alms.
For that day, Marjorie had come down dressed for a walk—a saunter, to find a few botanical specimens, she told Mrs Rolph, who smiled and was quite content, so long as her niece settled down and made no trouble of the loss of her lover.
Marjorie did saunter as long as she was in sight, and then went off through the fir woods rapidly, her eyes losing their soft, spaniel-like, far-away look which she so often turned upon Rolph, and growing fierce and determined as she stepped out, full of the object she had in view.
For she had good reason to believe that Rolph had gone in the direction she was taking, and the desire was strong within her to come upon him suddenly, and at a time when she felt she would succeed in getting the whip-hand of him, and holding him at her mercy.
She had been walking nearly an hour fairly fast; but now, as if guided by instinct, she turned into a green, mossy path, one of the many cut among the stubbs for the sportsmen’s benefit, whether hunting or shooting their purpose was the same, and advancing now more cautiously she was looking sharply from side to side when the hazels were suddenly parted, and, with his white teeth glistening in the sunshine, and his dark eyes flashing, there stood Caleb Kent not two yards away; then not one, as he caught her wrist in his hot, brown hands, and, with a laugh, placed his face close to hers.
“You’ve been a long time coming,” he said, “but you promised, and I’ve come.”
For a few moments Marjorie stood gazing wildly at the man before her, with her brain reeling, and a strange sickening sensation attacking her, which rendered her speechless. Her lips moved, but no sound came, while the words which had passed between them thundered in her ears like the echoes of all that had been said.
Then a re-action took place, and, drawing herself up, she said quietly,—
“Well, what do you want—money?”
“No; I can get money for myself,” he said, with a laugh. “I’ve come back to you.”
She shrank from him now with a look of disgust, and shivered as she thought of the past, but recovering herself she turned upon him.
“How dare you!” she cried, with a look intended to keep him at bay.
Caleb laughed.
“Well, you are a strange girl,” he said; “hot one day, cold the next. But I don’t care; say what you like, dear.”
Marjorie started as if she had been stung at this last word, for, more than anything which had passed, it made her feel how she had fallen.
“You want to play with me and hold me off; and you are going to say you didn’t mean it.”
With an action quick as that of some wild creature, he caught her wrist again, and looked at her mockingly, but with a flashing in his eyes which made her shiver and glance quickly round.
“No,” he said, with a laugh; “no one can see. But, look here,” he whispered earnestly, “I’ve been thinking about you ever since. You don’t care for them here, and their money and fine clothes. Come away along with me—it’ll be free like—right away from everyone who knows you, and I’ll be real good to you, dear, ’pon my soul I will.”
“Loose my wrist! How dare you!” cried Marjorie; and in her alarm she wondered now that she could have been so mad with one whom she thought she could sway with a look, but who was beginning to sway her.
“How dare I? because you like me to hold you,” he whispered. “Do you think I’m a fool? Look here; you used to love him, but you hate him now, and you love me. Well, I used to love Hayle’s girl; I was mad after her, but since I’ve seen you I don’t care a straw for her, not even if I never see her again.”
“Will you loose my wrist?” cried Marjorie, in a low, angry voice.
“No—not till I like.”
“Am I to call for assistance and have you punished, sir?”
“If you like,” he said mockingly. “There, that will do. What’s the good of all this nonsense? Don’t play with me. I say you’re a lady—a beautiful lady—and I never saw a woman I liked half so well. Look here; come along with me. I’ll be like your dog, and do everything you ask me. I’ll kill him if you tell me, and Judith Hayle, too. There, you wouldn’t find one of your sort ready like that.”
Frantic with dread, Marjorie looked wildly round as she strove to free her wrist.
“Why, what a struggling little thing you are,” he whispered. “Can’t you see that I like you, and wouldn’t hurt you for the world? What’s the good of holding off like this? No one can see you; there isn’t anybody within a couple of miles of where we are, and you promised me another kiss.”
“Let me go,” cried Marjorie hoarsely. “I did not mean it. I was half wild when I said that to you. Look here; take my watch and my rings, and I have some money here. I did not mean all that. Let go or I will call for help.”
“Well,” he said coolly, “call for help. I’m not afraid; you are, and you won’t call—I know better than that. Look here, you know what you said.”
She looked sharply round and shuddered.
“Yes,” she said huskily, “but I was mad and foolish then. It was in an angry fit. I didn’t mean it.”
“Didn’t you?” he said, looking at her with a cunning smile. “How easily you people can lie. You did mean it, and you made me a promise, and you’re going to keep it.”
“No, no,” she cried wildly.
“You are,” he said, “and I’m going to be paid. I’m only waiting for my chance.”
“I tell you no,” cried Marjorie. “I did not mean it.”
“You meant it then, and you mean it now, and I’m going to keep my word when I can. I’m not a fool. Do you think I don’t know why it all is? Not so blind as all that, my dear. It’s plucky of you, and I like you the better for it, and some day you’ll tell me how glad you are that—pst! someone coming,” he whispered, completely altering his manner and tone bowing obsequiously, and whining out an appeal to the dear kind lady to bestow a trifle on a poor young man out of work.
That night Marjorie lay awake thinking, half-repentant, half-glad; the latter feeling increasing till there was a glow of triumph in her eyes as she seemed to be gazing down upon Glynne, cast off by her cousin, her enemy and rival no longer, but an unhappy despairing object humbled at her feet.