The League of the Leopard

"What brings you here?" she demanded.

Dane was not, as a rule, readily disconcerted; but for a moment the power of lucid speech deserted him.

"I came – " he gasped.

"That is unfortunately evident," retorted Lilian, chillingly. "What I desire to know is why, considering the size of the garden, you must, after seeing I wished to be alone, choose this particular path!"

Dane had slight cause for merriment, but he actually laughed.

"Any other place would have suited me, but you went so fast!"

This was a blunder, and he realized it as he heard the gravel crunch in a manner that suggested the pressure of somebody's heel. Lilian had clearly roused herself to face the situation.

"Admitting that it was so, will you explain why you cannot take a hint?"

"I will," Dane said quietly, though he was once more maladroit. "I wished to ask why you have avoided me like contagion lately?"

"Is that a necessary question, or is it generous to place the onus of such an explanation upon me?"

"Perhaps not," he admitted. "I am not so quick of wit as I could wish, to-day, but I am going away early to-morrow, and it may be very long before I see you again; so I could not help asking it. We have known each other a long time, Lily, and I would not care to leave England feeling that you were displeased with me."

"Have I told you that I was displeased?" asked the girl.

"Speech was hardly necessary."

Lilian Chatterton was not deficient in courage, and she no longer tried to evade the difficulty. "Please understand that I have neither the right nor the desire to inquire into your motives, but – since you insist – there are limits within which one must restrict one's friendship; and after comparing your own account of your nocturnal adventures with what I heard Mr. Black relate about your conduct in court to-day, it is hardly possible to avoid concluding that you have overstepped them."

"There may be an explanation. Is it fair, as you reminded that very gentleman, to condemn any one unheard?"

"Can you furnish one?" asked Lilian, with a quickness which was not wholly lost upon her companion. If he had spoken plainly, it is possible that the explanation might have changed a good deal for both of them; but that was just what the man had pledged himself not to do. He was not a casuist, and, having no time for reflection, saw only one course open to him. It was too late when he realized that it was the worst one possible from any point of view.

"I am afraid I cannot, at present," he said.

The girl's eyes grew almost wicked, for his hesitation was fatal, and she was angry that she had even allowed him to draw her into the discussion.

"That is comprehensible," she said. "You must already have taxed your imagination severely, and it is perhaps natural that the testimony of a quite disinterested gentleman should be more convincing. Besides, as I said already, it is certainly not my part to judge you."

"Then I can only hope that you will hear the full truth from some other person you consider more worthy of credit," Dane said somberly.

Miss Chatterton returned no answer, but, drawing her skirt to her side, brushed past the man, who stepped recklessly among the chrysanthemums. She had, of course, no intention of looking back in his direction, but, on turning at the end of the alley, it was almost necessary to do so, and she sometimes remembered, with both a smile and a sigh, how he had stood, a somewhat commanding, as well as a slightly ludicrous figure, staring straight before him, knee-deep among the chrysanthemums. That, however, was afterward, for then Lilian was in a royal rage with herself as well as the man, because she had allowed anything he could say or do to disturb her serenity.

Dane sighed a little, but there was resolution as well as indignation in his face as he moved away, and left the gardener, who had witnessed the scene with indignation, to assess the damage.

"Would nothing fit yon theatrical ijiot but stamping my new quilled Regents flat?" the gardener grumbled.

Early the next morning Chatterton and Dane stood waiting for the South express in the little country station.

"I don't altogether understand what you have been doing, Hilton, and, though nobody seems quite pleased with you, I won't ask," said the iron-master. "I know you had a good reason for it, whatever it was; and if that meddlesome Black or any of his friends feel inclined to make further unpleasant suggestions, I shall enjoy the opportunity for a little plain speaking. If you ever change your mind, remember what I said; and don't close with any offer unless it's tempting, but come back and wait at The Larches for a better. I can't help saying I'm sorry you did not altogether hit it with Lilian. Modern young women, however, often appear to consider cheap smartness more becoming than the genuine cordiality they may feel."

"It was not Miss Chatterton's fault, sir," declared Dane, who, growing slightly confused, wished the iron-master would favor anything else with his fixed attention. He was thankful that the approach of the express prevented the conversation from progressing further in that direction.

A few evenings later, Lilian dismounted from her pony in the shadow of a copse. For some reason she had been restless all day, and sought solace in a ride across the moor. The saddle had slipped a little, and she spent some time tightening the girth. Meanwhile two men came to a standstill in the stubble beyond the hedge, and she recognized Carsluith Maxwell in one spare figure. The sunset beat into his face, and she saw it was stamped with a curious melancholy as he looked down the deep-wooded valley toward Culmeny. Ridges of brown moorland, whose slopes were streaked by dark firs, hemmed the hollow in, and the tower rose blackly in the mouth of it against the shimmer of the sea.

"It is an inheritance to be proud of, sir," Carsluith said. "Perhaps it is because of the contrast with the rank luxuriance of the tropics, and their stifling heat, but each time I come home to the old place and breathe this keen sweet air, I feel that I love it better."

The second man, turning, laid his hand on the speaker's shoulder, and as he did so Lilian recognized the master of Culmeny.

"It will be yours some day which cannot be very distant now," the elder man replied. "It is a barren heritage, and I have long regretted that, after the girls are provided for, its revenues will do little more than cover the interest on the burden you must take up along with it."

"I hope that day will be long in coming, sir; and I shall never rest contented until by some means I win enough to restore our former prosperity. To-morrow will see me on my way to London, and we must hope that my latest venture will prove successful!"