“Sure as that I love you, dearest. I had evidence of it, not many hours ago, and from his own lips. On the way hither—we came together you may know—he spoke of a heaviness at his heart, and that he had never started to go to a ball with less anticipation of pleasure. On my asking for explanation, he said it was on account of your sister. It was weeks since he had seen her; and something seemed to whisper she would not be the same to him as she had been. Trying to laugh away his fancies, and pressing him for a more tangible reason, he merely added ‘Reginald.’ I know he has always had a suspicion, if not jealousy, about his cousin’s relations with Vaga, before he himself came to know her. When he returned the other day, and he learnt that Reginald was in Bristol—had been for some time—he took it for granted he would also be often here in this house. That, of course, considering the Cavalier inclinings of your aunt and cousin. No doubt the thought, or fancy, of Master Rej being restored to Vaga’s favour is what affects him now.”
“It’s but a fancy, then. Master Rej couldn’t be restored to favour he never had. As for Vag—”
She broke off abruptly at the sound of voices and footsteps. Two persons in conversation were coming along the gravelled walk. The place was a pavilion, trellised all round, the trellis supporting a thick growth of climbers that formed a curtain to it. There was a lamp suspended inside, but its light had gone out, either through neglect or because the day would soon be dawning. The dialogue given above took place within the pavilion; that to follow occurring just outside by the entrance.
It was between two of the four, about whom they inside had been conversing—Clarisse and Eustace. She was still upon his arm, as he had conducted her off the dancing ground; she now rather conducting him towards that quiet spot, whither she had no idea of any one having preceded them.
“It seems so strange, Captain Trevor, you fighting for the Parliament?”
“Why strange, Mademoiselle?”
“Because of your father, and all your family, being on the King’s side; your brave cousin too. Besides, you’re so different from these plebeian Puritans and Roundheads; unlike them in every way.”
“Not every way, I hope, and would be sorry to think I was. Rather would I resemble them in their ways of truth and right—their aspirations for liberty, and the self-sacrificing courage they have shown to achieve it.”
“But the Cavaliers show courage too; as much, and more than they.”
“Neither more, nor as much. Pardon me, Mademoiselle, for contradicting you. Hitherto they’ve been better horsed, by robbing the poor farmers, emptying every stable they came across. That’s given them the advantage of us. But there’ll be a turn to it soon, and we shall pay the score back to Rupert and his plunderers.”