'LUKE WAGGOT,
'Put the horse to and drive the dog-cart to the "White House." Look out for me there. We must catch the up mail train at Dollington. Be lively. If Captain Lake chooses to drive you need not come.
'M. WYLDER.'
'I'll drive,' said Captain Lake. 'Lose no time and I'll give you half-a-crown.'
Luke stuck on his greasy wideawake, and in a few minutes more the dog-cart was trundled out into the lane, and the horse harnessed, went between the shafts with that wonderful cheerfulness with which they bear to be called up under startling circumstances at unseasonable hours.
'Easily earned, Luke,' said Captain Lake, in his soft tones.
The captain had buttoned the collar of his loose coat across his face, and it was dark beside. But Luke knew his peculiar smile, and presumed it; so he grinned facetiously as he put the coin in his breeches pocket and thanked him; and in another minute the captain, with a lighted cigar between his lips, mounted to the seat, took the reins, the horse bounded off, and away rattled the light conveyance, sparks flying from the road, at a devil of a pace, down the deserted street of Gylingden, and quickly melted in darkness.
That night a spectre stood by old Tamar's bedside, in shape of her young mistress, and shook her by the shoulder, and stooping, said sternly, close in her face—
'Tamar, I'm going away—only for a few days; and mind this—I'd rather be dead than any creature living should know it. Little Margery must not suspect—you'll manage that. Here's the key of my bed-room—say I'm sick—and you must go in and out, and bring tea and drinks, and talk and whisper a little, you understand, as you might with a sick person, and keep the shutters closed; and if Miss Brandon sends to ask me to the Hall, say I've a headache, and fear I can't go. You understand me clearly, Tamar?'
'Yes, Miss Radie,' answered old Tamar, wonder-stricken, with a strange expression of fear in her face.
'And listen,' she continued, 'you must go into my room, and bring the message back, as if from me, with my love to Miss Brandon; and if she or Mrs. William Wylder, the vicar's wife, should call to see me, always say I'm asleep and a little better. You see exactly what I mean?'
'Yes, Miss,' answered Tamar, whose eyes were fixed in a sort of fascination, full on those of her mistress.
'If Master Stanley should call, he is to do just as he pleases. You used to be accurate, Tamar; may I depend upon you?'
'Yes, Ma'am, certainly.'
'If I thought you'd fail me now, Tamar, I should never come back.
Good-night, Tamar. There—don't bless me. Good-night.'
When the light wheels of the dog-cart gritted on the mill-road before the little garden gate of Redman's Farm, the tall slender figure of Rachel Lake was dimly visible, standing cloaked and waiting by it. Silently she handed her little black leather bag to her brother, and then there was a pause. He stretched his hand to help her up.
In a tone that was icy and bitter, she said—
'To save myself I would not do it. You deserve no love from me—you've showed me none—never, Stanley; and yet I'm going to give the most desperate proof of love that ever sister gave—all for your sake; and it's guilt, guilt, but my fate, and I'll go, and you'll never thank me; that's all.'
In a moment more she sat beside him; and silent as the dead in Charon's boat, away they glided toward the 'White House which lay upon the high road to Dollington.
The sleepy clerk that night in the Dollington station stamped two first-class tickets for London, one of which was for a gentleman, and the other for a cloaked lady, with a very thick veil, who stood outside on the platform; and almost immediately after the scream of the engine was heard piercing the deep tatting, the Cyclopean red lamps glared nearer and nearer, and the palpitating monster, so stupendous and so docile, came smoothly to a stand-still before the trelliswork and hollyhocks of that pretty station.