She was the only creature I could possibly confide in at this moment. And as she was the staunchest, faithfullest of souls I had no hesitation. Presently some of my clothes and toilet necessaries had to be procured. It was unfortunate that they were in my dressing-room, and that the only entrance to it was through my chamber. However, taking Emblem with me, I went to fetch them out.
Unlocking the door with care, we entered softly, that we might not disturb the sleeper, for God knew how much there lay before him! I had Emblem pull the blinds up against the daylight, for should any person look upon my window from the lawn at noon ’twould astonish them to see it veiled. We soon took the requisite articles from the dressing-room, relocked the chamber door, and returned to whence we came. But ere this was done, I held the candle near the sleeper’s face. ’Twas to relieve the curiosity of Emblem, you understand; she was pining to see what the fugitive’s countenance was like.
He made the most sweetly piteous picture. He lay huddled among snow-white sheets of linen, and a counterpane of silk, in his tattered, muddy suit of coarse prunella, which left many soils upon its delicate surroundings. His cheek was pale and lean as death. Where the gyves had pinched his wrists they had left them raw; and I was startled at the thinness of his body, for it appeared to have no more flesh upon it than a rat. In sooth he looked the very poorest beggar that ever slept on straw, and no more in harmony with his present situation than was Mr. Christophero Sly in like circumstances. Yet as I looked at him there seemed something so tender and so strong about his meagreness that I pushed back the hair upon his forehead with light fingers in an absent manner, and just as lightly and just as absently did touch it with my lips. No sooner had I done this than I drew them back, and turned my face abruptly round to Emblem as though it had been stung. I had forgotten Emblem!
But I saw that the maid was blushing for me very deeply, though she strove with excellent intention to look quite unconscious of my conduct. Yet I coldly stared her out of countenance.
“Girl,” says I, severely, “the queen can do no wrong. She may box the ears of gartered dukes, or kiss the brows of sleeping bakers’ boys. But only the queen, you understand.” And I shot out such a look at her that she led the way to her chamber without a single word.
I appeared at breakfast in high feather, but with rather more complexion than I usually wear so early in the day. But a woman cannot go prowling over fields of snow and moonlight at dreadful hours of morning without a tale being told. Cosmetics, though, have a genius for secrets.
CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH THE HERO IS FOUND TO BE A PERSON
OF NO DESCENT WHATEVER.
At ten o’clock the soldiers came and reported themselves to their commander. One of them, presumably the officer in charge, was closeted with the Captain in the library for no less a time than an hour and a quarter. The others meantime put their jaded horses up, procured some food, and retired to rest themselves. At a few minutes to twelve o’clock, as the Mountain could not go to Mahomet, owing to some question of his knee, Mahomet went to the Mountain. At that hour a spy posted on the stairs informed me that my papa, the Earl, hopped—gout and all—to the Captain in the library. Meantime Emblem and myself were discussing the situation, behind locked doors, exhaustively, but with a deal of trepidation. She, it seemed, had just come into the possession of a piece of news of a very alarming kind. It was to the effect that the Captain, not wishing to disturb his knee, had passed the night in his chair in front of the library fire. And that apartment opened in the entrance hall, and was near the very flight of stairs up which the prisoner had passed. It was thus all too probable that he had heard incriminating noises towards the hour of four.
“Emblem,” says I, “that man is the devil. At every turn he pops up to thwart us.”
And before that day was out I was moved to speak of him in even stronger terms. At present, what to do with the prisoner was our chief concern. He must be smuggled away that night, if possible; but the situation was desperately complex. First, he must be provided with a horse, and then with money, not to mention an open road, and a suitable disguise. ’Twould be no kindness whatever—indeed, would merely be sending him to his doom—to despatch him a fugitive to the open moors again in the middle of the night unless he were provided with the amplest resources for escape.