My lady of Cleeve

by Percy John Hartley

“You shall answer to me for your words, Major Verbrughen!” cried the other in a tone equally as loud.

I turned swiftly upon my heel and faced them. The major’s face was purple with passion, the lieutenant stood with his hand upon his sword. In the background the troopers remained standing, like so many blue-coated statues. Here was an unexpected chance of gaining time.

“Gentlemen,” I said, advancing towards them, “in that I could not help overhearing part of your conversation, I pray you pardon me. It would seem that the matter at issue is one calling rather for deeds than words. The night is still young, and the light will serve. I shall be happy to act as second to either of you gentlemen, and I make no doubt that one of your men will be equally willing to serve in a similar capacity.”

They both turned in my direction, and for a moment they stood silent, glancing first at me and then at one another.

“I am at all times ready to uphold my words,” said the lieutenant, still fingering his sword hilt. But it seemed that my very eagerness had defeated its own purpose, for——

“And I—I do not fight when engaged upon duty,” said the major stiffly. “I thank your lordship for the reminder. Lieutenant Someren, we will discuss this matter later. But the tide is rising fast, and it is full time that we returned to the house.” He turned as he spoke and cast a lingering look at the narrow path. “Is there no other way by which we can go, my lord?” he added hesitatingly.

“None,” I answered, inwardly cursing myself for my stupidity in interfering. Had I not done so it might well have been that the quarrel would have led to blows and more time might have been gained. Now, however, it was too late, and all that I could do was to cast about in my mind for some means by which I might still further delay them. I thought that the major gave a slight groan upon hearing my reply. “Lieutenant Someren,” he said after a moment’s pause, “take four men and lead the way.”

The lieutenant saluted, not a muscle of his lean face moving. Apparently he had forgotten their late estrangement and became once more a military machine. As the little party moved away: “Now, my lord,” the major continued, turning towards me, “be good enough to follow!”

I shrugged my shoulders lightly and obeyed him. He himself brought up the rear with the remaining three troopers. It was not lost upon me that the burly sergeant immediately behind me carried his pistol in his hand. Evidently he was a man of precaution and did not put the same confidence in my parole as did his superior officers. In this order, then, we commenced the ascent; nor could I wonder that to men accustomed to the flat country of Holland the task should be so unwelcome. Even I, though by this time I had gained a tolerable acquaintance with the path, could not but be moved by the weirdness of the scene. The moon threw our shadows black against the cliff, accentuating the darkness of the gulf at our side, from which, growing ever fainter as we ascended, rose up the low murmur of the tide. It was some little time, therefore, ere we gained the summit, to find a couple more troopers in waiting there. With the major and lieutenant on either side of me—preserving, however, a strict silence towards each other—and with the troopers in our rear, I passed once more and for the last time through the misty, rose-scented gardens that were filled for me with so many memories. Nor could I, for all my efforts, put the penalty that I must pay wholly from my mind. For what had I done? I, a soldier, had betrayed my trust! Had assisted a noted rebel to escape! and for what? Was it not for a mere shadowy sentiment such as a man of my experience and years should not have been guilty? But though I strove thus to reason with myself, I know that the beating of my heart increased the nearer that we approached the lighted windows of the house. For all my thoughts centred then upon what my lady would say to me, and how I should first reveal myself to her, so that the men at my side should have no suspicion of the imposture practised on them.

But do what I would, I could think of no way by which I could prepare those at the house, for my brain was in a chaos, and only the image of my lady’s face was before my eyes. Already we had reached the little bridge and, crossing, passed slowly down the terrace to where a broad stream of light came from the open door and lay in a white patch upon the gravel walk. As we passed the lighted windows of the dining hall, I strove to gain a glimpse of the interior; but the curtains had fallen to—I could see nothing. Clearly I must trust to luck that they should not betray me in their surprise.