jeffray, rising above the entanglements of the moment, took bess by the arm, and led her back through the gate towards the cottage. he spoke a few words to her, warning her to keep the manner of dan’s death secret, and to leave the unravelling of the coil to him. bess, looking like one in pain, sank down on the rough bench beside the door. the shock of seeing her dead husband’s face had unnerved her utterly for the moment.
jeffray, turning from her with his mouth set, found that the officer and his troopers were already at the gate, their red coats shining out against the dark background of the trees. jeffray acted on the inspiration of the moment. he walked coolly down the garden path, took off his hat to the officer, to be surprised by hearing his own name coming glibly from the soldier’s lips.
“mr. richard jeffray, i believe?”
the civilian bowed. he recognized the officer as the cornet of light-horse, whom he had seen lounging in the doorway of the wheat sheaf inn at rodenham.
“i see, sir, that i am known to you.”
the cornet showed his regular white teeth in a good-humored smile, and ordered his men to stand back some paces.
“a mounted servant of yours,” he said, “fell in with us as we were crossing rodenham heath. the fellow appeared much concerned about your safety.”
the cornet was studying jeffray curiously with his large and melancholy eyes. he had the dreamy and sensuous look of a young man whose amiability made him popular with women. it was evident that he had been enlightened in some measure as to the nature of jeffray’s romantic quest, and that being something of a sensualist, he regarded the civilian with an erotic interest. jeffray knew not for the moment whether to bless or curse wilson and the butler for meddling in his adventures. he looked hard at the soldier as though to discover what species of man he had to deal with.
“of one thing, sir, i am assured,” he said, assuming an air of candor, “that i have to thank you for rescuing me from a very hot and dangerous corner.”
the soldier bowed slightly, and smiled in his tired and melancholy fashion.
“we were ordered to assist these revenue fellows,” he explained, “in rounding up one of the most savage smuggling gangs in sussex. i can only express my satisfaction at having been able to assist a gentleman whose courage had carried him into the enemy’s lines.”
such stately civility appeared to promise well for the adaptability of the cornet’s sentiments. jeffray felt by instinct that it would be expedient for him to trust the man, pretend to make a friend of him, and thus get bess safely out of pevensel.
“i suspect that we can understand each other, sir,” he said, with a boyish laugh, “and i hold myself fortunate in having been thrown in contact with a gentleman. if you will walk aside with me—i can explain.”
the cornet stood aside from the gate, and confessed himself at jeffray’s service. he was one of those men who never quarrel by inclination, and was indeed the very creature jeffray needed, lazy, good-tempered, eager for popularity, a man tinged with a sentimental devotion towards women, a devotion that bowed down before a dimpled chin, and capitulated smilingly to a pair of mischievous eyes.
“i am at your service, sir,” he said, bowing.
jeffray took the soldier at his word, and, with an air of unpremeditated abstraction, marched him straight for dan grimshaw’s body. the exquisite son of mars started at the sight of the contorted face shining a dead white from the grass. he touched the body a little contemptuously with his foot, sniffed, and shrugged his padded shoulders.
“another poor devil shot,” he said.
jeffray bent over the body as though it were new and strange to him.
“hit in the chest,” he said, reflectively. “your men were firing pretty briskly into the mob.”
“they fired on us first, sir,” quoth the cornet, as though moved to justify his orders.
“i don’t doubt it. some of your shots came into the cottage where i was cornered with the girl whose life i was trying to save.”
with much parade of mystery jeffray unfolded to the sentimental youth as much of the past as suited the occasion. he told how he had come to be blockaded in the cottage, and confessed that he had been compelled to fire on the smuggling folk in self-defence. concerning dan’s death he was discreetly silent, nor did he divulge the fact that bess had helped him to hold the cottage. the cornet listened with the most serious and sympathetic attention, stroking the silver facings of his coat, and never so much as dreaming to wink at jeffray.
“i am not astonished, sir,” he said, at the end thereof, “that the lady should be a little shaken after such adventures.”
“your sympathy does you credit,” returned jeffray, with a bow.
“may i ask what is to be done with the lady?”
“i desire to disentangle her from such painful surroundings, and place her under my housekeeper’s care at rodenham.”
the cornet looked sadly at jeffray, as though taking him for a very eccentric person or a most human and devoted fool. being an amiable and sentimental creature, and not given to legal methods of reflection, he showed himself very ready to assist jeffray with the true courtesy of a cavalier.
“shall i lend you two troopers and a guide,” he said, “to convey you to rodenham? is the lady fit to travel?”
jeffray accepted the suggestion.
“i thank you for your courtesy,” he said; “the ride will take the girl away from her own thoughts. i shall be very grateful to you if you will make inquiries as to her husband—daniel grimshaw, and the old man, isaac. if you discover any facts bearing upon the mystery of the girl’s past i shall be eager to receive them. my own mare is tethered in the woods. one of the pack-horses would carry the lady.”
the soldier proved himself the very perfection of a pandar in scarlet and silver. he would as soon have assisted in so romantic an intrigue, for such he fully believed it to be, as have perused one of the most interesting passages in the life of one of mr. fielding’s heroes. jeffray’s mare was discovered safely hidden in the woods where he had left her. one of the pack-horses was saddled and bess mounted thereon. two troopers and a guide were ordered to put themselves at jeffray’s service.
“i wish you good speed, sir,” said the cornet, bowing and raising his hat to bess.
jeffray, charmed by the young man’s urbanity, shook him heartily by the hand.
“you will do me the honor of dining with me to-morrow?” he asked.
the cornet bowed, his brown eyes brightening with momentary relish.
“certainly, if my duties permit the pleasure,” he said, smiling a tired smile.
into the sweet dusk of the wet woods rode jeffray with bess beside him. the western sky was still streaked with gold beyond the trees, but the woods before them were tangled deeps of mysterious gloom. all the june perfumes of the earth streamed out from the brakes and thickets, mingling with the pungent breath of the pines. bluish vapor filled the hollows, merging into the deep purple of the forest’s shadows. here and there some rain-pool in the grass was touched with the faint light from the western sky. an infinite languor seemed to weigh upon the calm and misty trees. there was still the dull drip of the storm’s dew from ten thousand branches, the rhythmic plashing of water upon the bracken and the grass.
the two red-coats and the rough laborer who acted as guide moved some twenty paces ahead of jeffray and the girl. there was still some peril of their falling in with the folk who had been scattered from the hamlet, and the troopers kept their carbines ready. jeffray held the bridle of bess’s horse, so that they were very close in the dusk. bess had recovered from her faintness of an hour ago. jeffray had given her brandy from his flask, though she had refused the bread and meat one of the soldiers had brought her from old isaac’s cottage. the day’s burden of dread seemed to lift from her as they drew away from the hamlet and its memories, and sank deeper and deeper into the silence of the forest. she was near jeffray; sometimes her knee touched his. they could almost hear each other breathing, while the sweet smell of the wet woods steamed up like incense into the night.
jeffray appeared sunk in thought. he looked often at bess with kindlings of tenderness in his eyes. the pleasurableness of life seemed to steal into either heart, chastened by a melancholy born of the troubled happenings of the day. they remembered, both of them, the dead man lying in the grass. it seemed that the blood-red flower of bess’s dream had colored forth the shedding of dan’s blood.
as they crossed white hind walk, jeffray drew in bess’s horse very close to him, stretched out his hand and touched her arm.
“you are not unhappy, child?” he asked.
she hesitated a moment.
“no, no, not unhappy.”
“you are thinking of dan?”
“yes.”
“why should you pity him?”
“ah, he was pointing his pistol at you—”
“it was for my sake, bess, i know, i know.”
he looked at her thoughtfully and half sadly as though realizing how much she had dared to save his life. it was a grim thing for a woman to have blood upon her conscience, and that too—the blood of her own husband. his tenderness deepened immeasurably towards bess. the guilt, whatever guilt there was, was his—not hers.
“there may still be danger for us,” he said, gravely.
bess looked at him as though all terror would melt away before the calm strength upon his face.
“is isaac alive?” she asked, putting her hair back from her forehead.
“i do not know,” he answered.
“if he should guess!”
“no one shall ever know that you fired the shot that killed your husband.”
bess questioned him with her eyes.
“should the law ever snatch at us,” he continued, “i shall swear that it was i who shot dan grimshaw.”
“you would swear that?” she asked, her whole face aglow.
“i would.”
“ah—i should love you better than to suffer that.”
they rode on awhile in silence under the trees, the dark figures of the troopers moving vaguely before them, the stars above like silver bosses set in the vaultings of the forest. often their eyes met; the girl’s white face seemed to shine with an inward light through the darkness of the woods.
“bess,” said the man, at last.
she watched him—and waited.
“let us leave this riddle to rot in pevensel. what do i care whether you are of the grimshaw blood or no!”
she held out her hands to him with a great sigh.
“take me away from it all,” she said. “i want you—and nothing more.”
a young moon was showing its silver crescent above the trees when bess and jeffray came out upon the heath. the two troopers and the guide were waiting for them, their figures showing dimly against the sky-line. jeffray hailed the men, assured them that he had no further need of an escort, and, giving them a couple of guineas apiece, advised them to ride back and rejoin their troop. the fellows pocketed the money, and wished jeffray a very good-evening. there might be spoil to be had at the hamlet in pevensel, rooms to be rifled, hidden money to be unearthed. they turned back with the guide into the woods, leaving bess and her man to ride on to rodenham alone.
