“I must acquire a thorough control and unbounded influence over her,” she thought. “But how can I do it? If her father had only left her stronger injunctions to sacrifice everything to my wishes, I think she would obey the injunctions as if a voice spoke to her from the grave. She will obey in all things reasonable—I can see that. But if she has formed a liking for Lord Towyn, how am I to compel her to marry Rufus Black?”
The question occupied her attention even while she talked with Neva. It made her thoughtful through the dinner hour, and silent afterward. Neva was tired, and went to her own rooms for the night soon after dinner, and Lady Wynde and Artress talked together for a long time in low tones.
“I have it!” said her ladyship exultantly, at last. “I have a brilliant idea, Artress, that will make this girl my bond-slave. But I shall need the cooperation of Craven. I must see him this very evening. It is strange he does not come—”
“He is here,” said the gray companion, as the house door clanged and heavily shut. “I will go to my room.”
She slipped like a shadow down the long triple drawing-room and out at one door, as the Honorable Craven Black was ushered in at the other. Lady Wynde rose to receive him, welcoming him with smiles, and presently she unfolded to him the scheme she had just conceived, and the two conspirators proceeded to discuss it and amplify it, and prepare it for the ensnarement of the baronet’s daughter.
CHAPTER XI.
LADY WYNDE’S IDEA ACTED UPON.
It was still early upon the evening of Neva’s return to Hawkhurst when Craven Black took his leave of the handsome widow and set out upon his walk to Wyndham. The summer night was filled with a light, pleasant gloom; and the songs of the nightingales, the chirping and drumming of insects in the Hawkhurst park and plantations, made the air musical. But Craven Black gave no heed to these things as he strode along over the hilly road. His mind was busy with the scheme that had been suggested to him that evening by Lady Wynde, and as he hurried along, he muttered:
“It’s a good idea, if well worked out. But there’s no finesse in it. It’s too simple, if it has any fault. And the girl may see through it, although that’s not likely. People who are guileless themselves are not apt to suspect guile in others. We shall have no difficulty with her. The only one who can balk our plans is that obstinate boy of mine, whom I have not seen since he shut himself up in his chamber. I must know his decision before I move a step further in this business. Of course he will yield to me; he has never dared pit his will against mine, and say to my face that he would not obey me. Poor weak coward! If he dares cling to that girl he married, I’ll risk the exposure and disgrace, and have the marriage legally set aside on the ground of his minority. By Heaven, if he dares to beard me, he shall find me a very tiger!”
He set his teeth together and his breath came hissingly between them as he strode heavily along the village street and approached the Wyndham inn. He saw that his own rooms were lighted, and that the room that he had assigned his son was dark. The fear came to him that Rufus had stolen away and returned to his young wife with the mad idea of flying with her, and, with a muttered curse upon the boy, he hurried into the inn and sped swiftly up the stairs, halting at his son’s door, with his hand on the knob.
It did not yield to his touch. The door was locked from within. Rufus must be within that darkened chamber, and as this conviction came to him Craven Black recovered all his coolness and self-possession. He crossed the hall into his own room and procured a lighted lamp, and then returned and knocked loudly on his son’s door. No voice answered him. No sound came from within the room.