The Sapphire Cross

“Miss Gernon – Isa,” he said, anxiously; “let me lead you away. Sir Murray wisely says that this is no place for you.”

“No place!” she cried, her soft eyes flashing into light. “Is it not a woman’s place beside the man she loves, when he is stricken down and helpless? Keep back, sir! I do not require your forced attentions!”

The aspect of Lord Maudlaine’s face was a mingling of the ludicrous and the enraged; but no one seemed to heed it, for, evidently violently agitated, Sir Murray had left the room, while all eyes were now directed to the doctor, whose ministrations were rapid, and orders issued sharply, as if he meant to have them obeyed.

“Gude-sake, sir!” said McCray, at last, unable to restrain his feelings, for he had read the anxiety in his young lady’s countenance – “Gude-sake, sir, tell’s how they all are!”

“Burglar – bad shot through shoulder, but not dangerous; Mr Norton – serious stab, knife pierced the – ”

“Gude-sake, sir, never mind that!” exclaimed McCray. “Tell’s the warst at once: is he likely – ”

McCray did not finish his sentence in words, but with his eyes; while, with an anxious troubled look, the doctor glanced towards the figure of Isa Gernon, before he replied:

“Well, McCray, I – There, I’ll give you my opinion to-morrow.”

Crushed Down

Die? What, with those sweet imploring eyes bidding him live? – with hope telling him that now one part of the mystery was cleared the other must soon be swept away? – with his own heart whispering energy, and patience, and desire for life? No; his spirit had well-nigh been drained away by that cruel stab, but Brace Norton smiled at the pain he suffered, and fought back the black shade that bade him succumb.

They bore him from the Castle to his own home; for as soon as the news spread of the late adventure, Captain and Mrs Norton, who had passed an anxious night, had themselves driven over to the Castle, and, in spite of the doctor’s remonstrance, insisted upon bringing their son away.

“I cannot help it, Challen,” said Captain Norton – “the risk must be run. You must do your best to avert danger, for he cannot stay here.”

“As you will,” said the doctor; and he proceeded to superintend the young man’s removal to the carriage.

Sir Murray Gernon knew of their coming, but he did not meet them. He shut himself up in his study, and as Brace was being placed in the carriage, McCray came forward, and handed a note to Captain Norton, who started as he saw the cipher on the great seal.

He tore it open and read the following lines:

“Sir Murray Gernon feels it to be his duty to apologise to Captain Norton for having done him one grievous wrong. The Sapphire Cross was stolen by Sir Murray’s butler, and is once more in its owner’s hands.

“Sir Murray Gernon asks Captain Norton’s pardon.”

Without a word, Captain Norton handed the note to his wife, who read it; and then, with the proud blood rushing to her temples, she handed it back, watching him to see what he would do.

There was a look almost of passion in Captain Norton’s eye, and the great broad scar looked red and angry, as he stood there biting his lip for a few brief instants before he spoke.

The library door was ajar, and every word of his sharp, military speech was plainly heard by the occupant, as, drawing himself up, Captain, Norton turned to McCray.

“You are Sir Murray Gernon’s confidential servant,” he said. “I will not write, but tell him this from me: he asks my pardon for a wrong, and I have waited over twenty years till the truth should appear. I go now to wait for the fellow-letter to this; when he shall ask my forgiveness for another wrong, then I will send him my reply.”

He turned and walked slowly and proudly down the great steps of the main entrance, while their owner cowered in his room, shrinking back into the far corner, as he watched and saw through the window that Isa was at the carriage-door, holding one of Brace’s hands in hers, as she looked appealingly in Dr Challen’s face. His brow darkened as he saw it, for it seemed as if his efforts were to be set at nought, and that the more he battled against the stream of events the more it swept him back. But he did not hear his child’s plaintive words, as she spoke to the doctor.

“Pray – pray tell me!” she whispered: “Is he in danger?”

“Danger? Well, yes, of course he is,” said the doctor, taking her in his arms and kissing her as he would one of his own children. “But there, bless your bright little face, go in, and don’t fidget and make those eyes dull with crying, and I’ll cure him right off for you. Now, Captain Norton,” he continued, lightly – “slow march for the horses – two miles an hour – with the windows all down, and I must ride inside.”

Brace fainted as the carriage-door was closed, but it was with the sense of his hand being kissed by two soft, warm lips, ere all became misty and confused; and then it was that Dr Challen’s light, flippant manner gave place to a quiet, serious aspect, as he plied restoratives, and prepared for the battle that his experience told him was imminent.

It was a long and fierce fight, but youth, with hope shining now in upon the young man’s heart, prevailed; and though no encouraging letter from Isa – no communication came from the Castle but a formal inquiry or two made on the part of Sir Murray – Brace daily grew stronger, telling himself that he would yet, perhaps, see the day when all would be made plain. There was a feeling of exultation that came upon the young man, when he saw the proud, happy bearing that seemed to have come upon his father? and more than once there was a fond blessing from her who had held faith when all the world disbelieved. This exultation did more than all Dr Challen’s medicaments, but the doctor took to himself the credit, all the same.

Brace’s ship sailed without him, and he could not but rejoice at the time afforded him for further investigation, while he prayed earnestly that accident might again favour him, though at times his heart sank, as rumours came of the state of affairs at the Castle. For though he had dismissed them as impossible, utterly refusing them credence, at times charging Sir Murray Gernon with subterfuge, at others giving him the credit of believing the words he had whispered, they began now, as he approached convalescence, to make a deep and lasting impression upon him. He had not seen her – he had not heard from her, and the gap between the families seemed almost to have widened since the discovery of the cross; but there was no Lord Maudlaine at the Castle now: he had taken his departure, and Brace was hopeful that it was for good; when one day, when he had regained his strength, his heart leaped tumultuously, for he saw Isa approaching him, on her favourite mare, attended as usual by Peter Barlow.

It might be wrong, but he could not help it, and he hurried forward to meet her, his hands outstretched, and face bright and eager, but to his utter despair she touched the mare with her whip, averted her head, and cantered by, leaving him, almost giddy with misery, by the road-side.

Why Isa Gernon Avoided Brace

Lord Maudlaine had indeed left the Castle, but not for the reason Brace Norton had hoped. The time was getting on, and a hint or two to that effect from his friend in London had induced him to seek an opportunity for speaking to Isa alone.

The opportunity was soon afforded him, for Sir Murray, guessing his wish, and himself anxious that the marriage should take place, left them one evening together in the drawing-room, while he sought his study, where, a quarter of an hour after, the Viscount came to him.

“What! so soon?” said Sir Murray.

“Utter refusal – appeal to my feelings – impossible to accept me – and all that sort of thing,” said the Viscount, angrily. “I’m being played with, Sir Murray Gernon,” he exclaimed, bitterly – “led on and trifled with!”

“Are you willing to take her as she is – to risk all?” said Sir Murray, quietly.

“Quite – yes, of course,” said his lordship.

“Stay here, then, till I return,” said Sir Murray.

He went to the drawing-room, where he found Isa, vainly striving to keep back her tears.

“Come here and sit down, Isa,” he said, in quiet, measured tones. “There, don’t tremble,” he said, as he took her hand. “I’m not very angry with you, and I’m not going to scold and play the tyrant. You have just refused Lord Maudlaine, when you know that for months past it has been an understood thing that he was to be your husband. I do not ask you why you have done this, because I know. While we were in Italy there was no opposition shown upon your side; since we have returned you have often made me blush for the coldness – almost rudeness – with which you have treated him.”

“Oh, papa!” exclaimed Isa, appealingly.

“You must hear me out,” he said sternly. “I will tell you why you are cold to him: it is because you think that you love this Brace Norton; and, irrespective of the feeling between our houses, were he a man of honour, he would, after my words to him, have ceased his persecution.”

“Your words!” faltered Isa.

“My words,” he said sternly. “I saw him, and I have appealed to him in every way, but only to meet with an obstinate refusal. Then I brought to bear means that at the time I believed to be effectual. This is no silly romance of love, my child, but stern fact, that I have to deal with. I have chosen Lord Maudlaine to be your husband. You will be a titled lady, and some day wear a Countess’s coronet. You will both be wealthy, and let me tell you that it is an alliance to be proud of. Now, promise me that, if I send him in, you will accede to his proposals.”

Isa was silent.

“You hear me, Isa,” he said, gently – “why do you not reply? You will accede to his wishes, will you not?”

“I cannot,” said Isa, in a whisper. “It would be a mockery!”

“Absurd, silly, romantic nonsense, my child! You must accept him, and at once. I wish to have your marriage off my mind before I return to Italy; for I cannot stay in this place.”

“Let us go, then, together!” said Isa, eagerly. “Why do you trouble about this matter at all?”

“It is my wish to see you married, and to Lord Maudlaine,” he said, firmly. “I cannot live with the constant harass of this man’s pretensions. I tell you, on my honour as a gentleman – since you set at nought my word as your father – that a marriage between you and Brace Norton is an impossibility. I told him – lowering myself even to giving him the reasons; and the man’s character is such that – here, look, I have his letter to you, and which I refuse to let you read. I tell you, Isa, that in spite of my moroseness at times, I have a love for you from the way in which you recall your mother; but I would see you in your coffin sooner than the wife of this man!”

“But, papa – dear papa,” sobbed Isa, “you are prejudiced – you are cruel! You do not know how good, and brave, and true he is, and I love him so – so dearly!”

She threw herself, sobbing, upon his breast, hiding her burning cheeks; while, apparently softened, he held her to him – a sad, wild, pained look in his face, as he kissed and smoothed her long, dark tresses.