My lady buried her face in her thin hands and sobbed, while Shane looked on. He could not comprehend.
Finding that her son said no kind word to ease the bitter task, his mother went on in a hoarse voice--even and unbroken now by sobs--with eyes fixed doggedly upon the ground.
'I implored him--oh! how I implored him--again and again, I did indeed--to send for the parson before your birth. He was reckless. At length he seemed touched by my distress, and sent. The parson was laid up with gout, but promised to be with us on the morrow. Then--it was too late--and my lord put it off again, saying that it didn't matter, and that nobody would know. I hoped that he was right, and was comforted. When, six years later, Terence was born, the case was altered. We both saw it--alas! too late; he felt it as much as I. But after all, you were the first-born--a ceremony delayed could not alter that. It was not fair that you should suffer for what was but an act of negligence. We discussed the matter anxiously, and my lord decided to bury the secret. No one would suspect, or think to examine the date of the register, if we agreed to hold our peace. We never spoke of it--never--but we saw it in each other's eyes; and from that moment I lost his love--he was always looking with regret on Terence in a way which maddened me, while I clung to you. You were the child of sorrow. I suffered much for you on that accursed island; and then that--that woman cast her meshes over him. My lord changed his mind before he died--desired me to noise the tale abroad to all the world. I could not--my pride revolted--and my love for you. None knew the secret except one--that harlot!--my lord was faithless in that as in all other things!'
My lady's voice died away, as a host of grim recollections crowded on her memory. Presently she looked up in alarm, for Shane had made no comment. The cicatrice upon his brow stood out. She put forth her hands; he seized her by the wrists and flung her down. Without resistance she sank moaning backwards on the floor. Turning on his seat, he poured out a tumblerful of wine and drank it off; then--the whole truth breaking at last upon his slow intellect--he tore his hair, growling, and smote himself upon the head, and staggered round the room with reeling steps. Doreen did not try to hide herself, she was transfixed with wonder; yet though she showed like a vision in hoar-frost, impressed upon the casement, he saw her not. He was only aware that there was another Lord Glandore--who would return his contumely with interest--that his own portion was beggary and a bend-sinister. No wonder if the phantom of this new prospect churned and curdled his besotted brain.
'He'll hate me and take my property and title!' he muttered through his teeth again and again, in querulous cadence. 'What's to become of me--what's to become of me? I might as well be shot as beggared.'
My lady rose from the floor, haggard and gaunt, and passed her long fingers through her hair. The selfish cruelty of him for whose sake she had gone through the torture was better for her than kindness would have been. A little sympathy and she would have become hysterical. Like a sharp fillip, it strung her nerves. That from which she had shrunk so long was here in all its accumulated fulness. Well! it was part of a penance; so much was past that the remainder could matter little.
'Not so,' she said mournfully; and Shane, clinging to a reed, returned to his seat and drew her towards him.
'The secret may rest where it is,' she continued, placing a loving hand upon his head. 'No one living knows of it save you and I and--and that woman. If she meant to speak, she would have spoken long since. It may come out some day, and Terence will claim what the law will call his own, and possibly revenge himself on you for having kept him unwittingly from its enjoyment. But you shall not be brought to beggary. Alas! my deary, you are unfitted to battle with the world. Two things must be done--and done at once--betide afterwards what may. You must marry Doreen. She is an heiress, and the only one available. Your own mode of life has kept others from your path, though you might have chosen among hundreds. Her father would be glad, I know, and she is too much broken by recent afflictions to offer resistance when strong pressure is brought to bear on her.'
'Government has offered me forty-five thousand pounds for my vote and influence in the coming contest,' Lord Glandore observed presently, with a sinister smile. 'It is imminent. If Croppy can only be kept in the dark till then!'
My lady bent down and kissed him, while lines of anxious thought gathered round her mouth. She was in the slough--up to the neck--out of which it was impossible to struggle. Under happier auspices she would have recoiled from the suggestion of cold-blooded barter. But helpless Shane's position must be assured by hook or crook while there was yet time. It struck his mother that Gillin--when she should discover that her outrageous designs for Norah were foiled--might blab the secret as a last shaft of vengeance. She determined that for the present, at least, the odious creature must be humoured for prudence' sake. It was with a dreary sort of satisfaction that she found her turbulent favourite was become suddenly so malleable. What signified the unsullied shields of departed Crosbies? Unblemished honour will not renew exhausted tissues. It is well for those to prate who have never been tempted. Shane, like the rest, must sell his mess of pottage at the best market--his so long as it was not claimed. Then the idea flashed upon my lady as she meditated, 'Terence is marked out for an arch-traitor. He was not convicted--yet is he sentenced. If his claims were to be admitted now, his property (as that of one attainted) would be forfeit to the state! Better far that Shane should keep it.' Scruples were manifestly absurd. A brilliant suggestion of the devil this--which went far to reconcile my lady to existing circumstances.