“You ... you shall regret ... bitterly ... bitterly! Aye, let me perish but you shall!” Then, flinging up his uninjured arm in passionate menace, he turned and was gone.
CHAPTER XVIII
HOW SIR JOHN DERING WENT A-WOOING
My Lord Sayle’s abrupt departure sufficed to break up the assembly; my lords and ladies having been very delightfully amused, interested, thrilled and shocked by the varied incidents of the last crowded hour, hasted to be gone, eager to recapitulate the whole story (with numerous additions, to be sure) to the astounded ears of those unfortunates who had missed so singular an occasion.
Thus, while my lady bade adieu to her guests (each and all more her doting friends and obedient humble servants than ever), Sir John presently found himself alone with the Duchess in a curtained alcove, and stooping, took her so small hand ere she was aware to kiss it with such reverence that she actually flushed.
“O heavens, sir!” she exclaimed. “Pray, why so—so infinite impressive?”
“Madam,” he answered gravely, “despite the evil that is told of me, with more or less truth, alas, you were generous! Having the power to abase me, you mercifully chose to lift me up. Pray believe that my gratitude is yours, now and ever!”
“Indeed,” said she, noting his earnest face, “you are strangely unlike the Sir John Dering I anticipated. Your—your reputation, sir——”
“Aye, my reputation!” he repeated wearily. “’Faith, madam,’tis my incubus that hath me in a strangle-gripe. For years I have endured it with a fool’s content, but now when I would be rid on’t I may not. ’Tis a haunting shadow, a demon mocking my best endeavours. Evil is naturally expected of me, virtue—never. Indeed, you behold in me the poor victim of a relentless fate——”
“Fate, sir?” cried a scornful voice, and my Lady Herminia stepped into the alcove.