My lady of Cleeve

by Percy John Hartley

I flung him aside and peered eagerly into the stable. I could not believe my eyes; for there, in the very place which we had quitted twelve hours before on our fruitless quest, a dozen horses were standing in the stalls.

“But they are gone, man! They are gone!” I stammered stupidly when I had recovered the use of my tongue.

“Aye, they are gone,” said the sergeant laconically, “as you see.”

But now as the fact of their reappearance became plain to all, from the weary, sweating troopers there burst such a chorus of profanity as caused the horses themselves to turn their heads in mild surprise. As for me, I leaned against the doorway, and the ludicrousness of the situation striking me, gave way to unrestrained laughter—laughter, however, which had in it more of relief than mirth. For consider for a moment the situation. Here was the mare’s nest of danger that I had been raising to myself all day resolved into nothing more than a practical jest, designed, I had no doubt, by my lady to cause us annoyance.

While we had spent the day in tramping the countryside in useless search, the horses had been snugly concealed most likely in a cottage near at hand. The trick was humiliating, to say the least of it. On one point, however, it set me at rest. Surely they would not have returned the horses had they contemplated any sinister design against us. Nevertheless, in order to guard against a repetition of surprise, I bade two of the troopers sleep in the loft above the stable. And I also resolved to seek an explanation of my lady at the earliest opportunity.

Returning to the inn, I gave the sergeant a few further instructions, promising, indeed, to return again at ten o’clock to see that all was done to ensure safety for the night; and this in the presence of the landlord, though the significance of this fact did not occur to me till long afterwards.

This done, I ordered my horse to the door, and arming myself ere leaving the inn with a weapon which I thought might prove useful in the coming interview that I promised myself, I mounted my horse and rode away.

Arriving at the manor, I found the same lifelessness there that had characterised it on the preceding day, but little I recked of this at the time, for my mind was fully engrossed in thinking what I should say to my lady and in speculating upon her reply. I dismounted at the stables and gave the weary sorrel into the charge of the youth Martin who was loitering there. As I flung him the rein, “See that he is ready saddled for me in an hour’s time,” I said quietly. For answer he made a wry face and moved away with a short, derisive laugh.

I stood gazing after him in undisguised astonishment. At any other time, when my mind had not been so preoccupied, I should have chastised the young boor for his insolence. As it was, I shrugged my shoulders contemptuously and turned away. Bah! ’twas only natural, after all. Like mistress, like man! I lingered for awhile upon the terrace, loth to go indoors, until the last purple tints faded from the western sky and the soft July night wrapped the house and gardens in its silent embrace. Anon, the full moon rose above Cleevesborough, silvering the surrounding oaks and streaking the grass with their checkered shadows. Presently with a half drawn sigh I rose from the terrace wall upon which I had been leaning and passed slowly into the house. Within doors I met with the same monastic silence, though I found the candles lighted and my supper awaiting me in the dining hall; and laying aside my encumbering weapons, I applied myself to the dishes before me with all the zest of a starving man. When my hunger was appeased I filled my glass, and leaning back in my chair, gave myself up to my thoughts. And who shall say into what realms of fancy my thoughts strayed, or what dream faces of the future I saw in the flickering flame of the candles before me. Only I know that the dark eyes of my lady of Cleeve looked out at me, and her proud, elusive face stared at me from the shadows of the room. I strove to bring my mind back to the events of the past day, and the more convinced I became that the whole plot had originated in her fertile mind. For what object I had yet to learn. A glance at the clock convinced me that it was too late to seek an interview with her that night—to-morrow I would demand of her an explanation. And in the possession of that which I carried in my breast, I fancied that I should meet with some consideration at her hands. I roused myself at length from these reflections, and rising, took my cloak from the chair where I had laid it, and proceeded to buckle on my sword. This done I laid my loaded pistols upon the table, and raising my half-emptied glass to my lips, drained its contents preparatory to taking my departure.

“Captain Cassilis!” said a soft voice clearly.