CHAPTER XVI.
EVIL TIDINGS.
That night before retiring to rest, when seated near Mary, and affecting to read to Ellinor quietly by the light of a pleasantly shaded lamp, all the stirring and startling events of the recent hour or two seemed a kind of dream—an unreality—though the illusion was apt to be dispelled by Mary's wondering surmises as to what Jack had been fighting with, and who made all the noise prior to the dog's return with somewhat ensanguined teeth and jaws!
Ellinor, as she looked furtively from time to time at Mary's sweet and placid face, with its downcast looks and soft, yet firm expression, felt inclined to cast herself on her breast and confess all the story of the late escape. But her heart failed her; it was too full of shame for her duplicity, with doubt, bewilderment, and a strange kind of hope in the future.
Her day-dreams, as we have described them, were too bright and too recent to be quite dispelled or abandoned yet.
And both sisters were quite unaware that they owed the fact of their being placidly seated as usual together at that time to Jack the terrier, who lay asleep with his head resting on Mary's feet, yet snarling from time to time and showing his teeth; for he was dreaming—as dogs will dream—of his late encounter and revenge. For though Jack had snarled fiercely when assailed by Gaiter's foot and the driver's whip, he had made his first attack 'with that savage and insidious silence' which, as Bell in his British quadrupeds says, indicate the character of the bull-dog; and, though called a fox-terrier, the gallant Jack had a strong cross of the bull in him.
Betimes next morning Ellinor sought the spot where she was to have met Sir Redmond. There the wayside grass was bruised, torn, and spotted with blood, which the dew of the August night had failed to wash away, and there lay a half-smoked cigar and a gentleman's kid glove. On the latter, Jack, who accompanied her, with cocked ears and tail, and with his bandy legs looking more impudent and confident than usual, pounced with a snort of triumph, and tore it to shreds with his teeth and paws, thus giving Ellinor the first light she had on last night's mystery.
There were marks close by where horses' hoofs had been planted, and the deep ruts of carriage wheels—a carriage brought for her; all silent witnesses that Sir Redmond had been there!
And all this had happened but last night—exactly twelve hours ago; yet it looked as if a score of years had passed since she stole silently from her room and approached the shaded lane!
Troubles and hopes always look brighter by day than by night, in sunshine than under clouds and rain; so Ellinor began to consider the whole affair with more composure.
To her it had seemed that, 'although love in a cottage is a very fine thing, love in a Belgravian mansion was decidedly preferable;' but all that just then seemed to be over and done with, when, during the day, she heard incidentally through old Elspat of Sir Redmond's sudden departure from Craigmhor—the departure in which she was to have shared!