A Rent In A Cloud

“But you’ll not leave us? You’ll stay here to-night?”

“Pray excuse me. One of my objects – my chief one – in coming over here, was to ask your nieces’ acceptance of some trinkets I had brought for them. Perhaps this would not be a happy moment to ask a favour at their hands, so pray keep them over and make birthday presents of them in my name. This is for Florence – this, I hope Emily will not refuse.”

“But do not go. I entreat you not to go. I feel so certain that if you stay we shall all be so happy together. There is so much, besides, to talk over; and as to those beautiful things, for I know they must be beautiful – ”

“They are curious in their way,” said he, carelessly opening the clasp of one of the cases, and displaying before her amazed eyes a necklace of pearls and brilliants that a queen might wear.

“Oh, Colonel Calvert, it would be impossible for my niece to accept such a costly gift as this. I never beheld anything so splendid in my life.”

“These ear-drops,” he continued, “are considered fine. They were said to belong to one of the wives of the King of Delhi, and were reputed the largest pearls in India.”

“The girls must see them; though I protest and declare beforehand nothing on earth should induce us to accept them.”

“Let them look well at them, then,” said he, “for when you place them in my hands again, none shall ever behold them after.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ll throw them into the lake yonder A rejected gift is too odious a memory to be clogged with.”

“You couldn’t be guilty of such rash folly?”

“Don’t you know well that I could? Is it to-day or yesterday that the Calvert nature is known to you? If you wish me to swear it, I will do so; and, what is more, I will make you stand by and see the water close over them.”

“Oh, you are not changed – not in the least changed,” she cried, in a voice of real emotion.

“Only in some things, perhaps,” said he, carelessly. “By-the-way, this is a miniature of me – was taken in India. It is a locket on this side. Ask Emily to wear it occasionally for my sake.”

“How like! and what a splendid costume!”

“That was my dress in full state! but I prefer my service uniform, and think it became me better.”

“Nothing could become you better than this,” said she, admiringly; and truly there was good warrant for the admiration; “but even this is covered with diamonds!”

“Only a circlet and my initials. It is of small value. These are the baubles. Do what you will with them; and now good-bye. Tanti saluû, as we used to say long ago to the ladies – Tanti saluû de la parte mia. Tell Milly she is very naughty not to have given me her hand to kiss before we parted; but if she will condescend to wear this locket, now and then, I’ll forgive her. Good-bye.”

And, before Miss Grainger could reply, he had opened the window and was gone.

When Calvert reached the jetty the boatman was not there; but the boat, with her oars, lay close to the steps; the chain that attached her to an iron ring was, however, padlocked, and Calvert turned impatiently back to seek the man. After he had gone, however, a few paces, he seemed to change his mind, and turned once more towards the lake. Taking up a heavy stone, he proceeded to smash the lock on the chain. It was stronger than he looked for, and occupied some minutes; but he succeeded at last. Just as he threw into the boat the loose end of the broken chain, he heard steps behind him; he turned; it was Emily running towards him at full speed. “Oh Harry, dear Harry!” she cried, “don’t go; don’t leave us; Florence is quite well again, and as far as strength will let her, trying to come and meet you. See, yonder she is, leaning on aunt’s arm.” True enough, at some hundred yards off, the young girl was seen slowly dragging her limbs forward in the direction where they stood.

“I have come some thousand leagues to see her,” said he sternly, “through greater fatigues, and, perhaps, as many perils as she is encountering.”

“Go to her; go towards her,” cried Emily, reproachfilly.

“Not one step; not the breadth of a hair, Milly,” said he. “There is a limit to the indignity a woman may put upon a man, and your sister has passed it. If she likes to come and say farewell to me here, be it so; if not, I must go without it.”

“Then I can tell you one thing, Colonel Calvert, if my sister Florence only knew of the words you have just spoken, she’d not move one other step towards you if, if – ”

“If it were to save my life, you would say. That is not so unreasonable,” said he, with a saucy laugh.

“Here is Florence come, weak and tottering as she is, to ask you to stay with us. You’ll not have the heart to say No to her,” said Miss Grainger.

“I don’t think we – any of us – know much about Mr. Calvert’s heart, or what it would prompt him to do,” said Emily, half indignantly, as she turned away. And fortunate it was she did turn away, since, had she met the fierce look of Calvert’s eyes at the moment, it would have chilled her very blood with fear.

“But you’ll not refuse me,” said Florence, laying her hand on his arm. “You know well how seldom I ask favours, and how unused I am to be denied when I do ask.”

“I was always your slave – I ask nothing better than to be so still,” he whispered in her ear.

“And you will stay?”

“Yes, till you bid me go,” he whispered again; “but remember, too, that, when I ask a favour I can just as little brook refusal.”

“We’ll talk of that another time. Give me your arm now, and help me back to the house, for I feel very weak and faint. Is Milly angry with you?” she asked, as they walked along, side by side.

“I don’t know; perhaps so,” said he, carelessly.

“You used to be such good friends. I hope you have not fallen out?”

“I hope not,” said he, in his former easy tone; “or that if we have, we may make it up again. Bear in mind, Florence,” added he with more gravity of manner, “that I am a good deal changed from what you knew me. I have less pride, cherish fewer resentments, scarcely any hopes, and no affections – I mean, strong affections. The heart you refused is now cold; the only sentiment left me, is a sense of gratitude, I can be very grateful; I am already so.” She made no answer to this speech, and they re-entered the house in silence.

CHAPTER XXII. A LETTER OF CONFESSIONS

THE following letter from Calvert to Drayton was written about three weeks after the event of our last chapter.

“The Villa.

“My dear Algernon, – I knew my black fellow would run you toearth, though he had not a word of English in hisvocabulary, nor any clue to you except your name and a mapof England. It must have, however, been his near kinsman – the other ‘black gentleman’ – suggested Scarborough to him; and, to this hour, I cannot conceive how he found you. I amoverjoyed to hear that you could muster enough Hindostaneeto talk with him, and hear some of those adventures which mynatural modesty might have scrupled to tell you. It wouldseem from your note, that he has been candour itself, andconfessed much that a man of a paler and thinner skin mightprefer to have shrouded or evaded. All true, D.; we havedone our brigandage on a grand scale, and divided our prizemoney without the aid of a prize-court.“Keep those trinkets with an easy conscience, and if theyleave your own hands for any less worthy still, remember theadage, ‘Ill got, ill gone,’ and be comforted. I suppose youare right – you are generally right on a question ofworldly craft and prudence – it is better not to attempt thesale of the larger gems in England. St Petersburg and Viennaare as good markets, and safer.“El. J. has already told you of our escape into Cashmere: make him narrate the capture of Mansergh, and how he foundthe Keyserbagh necklace under his saddle. A Queen’s officerlooting! Only think of the enormity! Did it not justifythose proceedings in which Instinct anticipated the findingof a court-martial? The East, and its adventures – a verybulky roll, I assure you – must wait till we meet; and in mynext I shall say where, and how, and when: for there is muchthat I shall tell that I could not write even to you,Algernon. Respect my delicacy, and be patient.“I know you are impatient to hear why I am not nearerEngland – even at Paris – and I am just as impatient to tellyou. The address of this will show you where I am. All thewriting in the world could not tell you why. No, Drayton; Ilie awake at night, questioning, questioning, and in vain. Ihave gone to the nicest anatomy of my motives, dissectingfibre by fibre, and may I be – a Queen’s officer – if I canhit upon an explanation of the mystery. The nearest I cancome is, that I feel the place dangerous to me, and, therefore, I cling to it. I know well the feeling that woulddraw a man back to the spot where he had committed a greatcrime. Blood is a very glutinous fluid, and has mostcohesive properties; but here, in this place, I have doneno enormities, and why I hug this coast, except that it be alee-shore, where shipwreck is very possible, I really cannotmake out Not a bit in love? No, Algy. It is not easy for aman like me to fall in love. Love demands a variety ofqualities, which have long left me, if I ever had them. Ihave little trustfulness, no credulity; I very seldom lookback, never look forward; I neither believe in another, norask belief in myself. I have seen too much of life to be adreamer – reality with me denies all place to mere romance.Last of all I cannot argue from the existence of certainqualities in a woman to the certainty of her possessingfifty others that I wish her to have. I only believe what Isee, and my moral eyes are affected with cataract; and yet, with all this, there’s a girl here – the same, ay, the same,I told you of long ago – that I’d rather marry than I’d beKing of Agra, with a British governor-general for my water-carrier! The most maddening of all jealousy is for a womanthat one is not in love with! I am not mad, most nobleDrayton, though I am occasionally as near it as is safe forthe surrounders. With the same determination that this girlsays she’ll not have me, have I sworn to myself she shall bemine. It is a fair open game, and I leave you, who love awager, to name the winner. I have seen many prettier women – scores ol cleverer ones. I am not quite sure that in thematter of those social captivarions into which mannerenters, she has any especial gifts. She is not a horsewoman,in the real sense of the word, which, once on a time, was asine quâ non of mine; nor, in fact, has she a peculiarexcellence in anything, and yet she gives you the impressionof being able to be anything she likes. She has greatquickness and great adaptiveness, but she possesses onetrait of attraction above all; she utterly rejects me,and sets all my arts at defiance. I saw, very soon after Icame back here, that she was prepared for a regular siege, and expected a fierce love-suit on my part I accordinglyspiked my heavy artillery, and assumed an attitude of peace-like indolence. I lounged about, chiefly alone; neitheravoided nor sought her, and, if I did nothing more, I sorelypuzzled her as to what I could mean by my conduct. Thiswas so far a success that it excited her interest, and I sawthat she watched and was studying me. She even made faintattempts at little confidences: ‘Saw I was unhappy – hadsomething on my mind;’ and, for the matter of that, I hadplenty – plenty on my conscience, too, if nature had beencruel enough to have inflicted me with one. I, of course, said ‘No’ to all these insinuations. I was not happy norunhappy. If I sat at the table of life, and did noteat, it was because I had no great appetite. Theentertainment did not amuse me much, but I had nowhereparticularly to go to. She went one day so far as to hintwhether I was not crossed in love? But I assured hernot, and I saw her grow very pale as I said it. Ieven suggested, that though one might have two attacks ofthe malady, like the measles, the second one was alwaysmild, and never hurt the constitution. Having thuspiqued her a little about myself, I gradually unsettled heropinion on other things, frightened her by how thegeologists contradict Genesis, and gave her to choosebetween Monsieur Cuvier and Moses. As for India, I madeher believe that we were all heartily ashamed of what wewere doing there, spoke of the Hindoo as the model native, and said that if the story of our atrocities were written,Europe would rise up and exterminate us. Hence I hadnot taken the C.B., nor the V.C., nor any other alphabeticalglories. In a word, Drayton, I got her into that frame ofresdessness and fever in which all belief smacks of foolishcredulity, and the commonest exercise of trust seems likethe indulgence of a superstition.“All this time no mention of Loyd, not a hint of hisexistence. Yesterday, however, came a fellow here, a certainMr. Stockwell, with a note of introduction from Loyd, calling him ‘my intimate friend S., whom you have doubtlessheard of as a most successful, photographer. He is going toIndia with a commission from the Queen,’ &c. We had him todinner, and made him talk, as all such fellows are ready totalk, about themselves and the fine people who employ them.In the evening we had his portfolio and the peerage, and sodelighted was the vulgar dog to have got into the land ofcoronets and strawberry-leaves, that he would have ignoredLoyd if I had not artfully brought him to his recollection; but he came to the memory of ‘poor Joe,’ as he called him, with such a compassionating pity, that I actually grew tolike him. He had been at the vicarage, too, and saw itslittle homely ways and small economies; and I laughed soheartily at his stupid descriptions and vapid jokes, that Imade the ass think he was witty, and actually repeat them.All this time imagine Florry, pale as a corpse, or scarlet, either half fainting or in a fever, dying to burst in withan angry indignation, and yet restrained by maidenbashfulness. She could bear no more by eleven o’clock, andwent off to bed under pretence of a racking headache.“It is a great blow at any man’s favour in a woman’s esteemwhen you show up his particular friend, his near intimate; and certes, I did not spare Stockwell. You have seen me inthis part, and you can give me credit for some powers inplaying it.“‘Could that creature ever have been the dear friend ofJoseph’ said Milly, as he said good-night.“‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘They seem made for each other.’“Florry was to have come out for a sail this morning withme, but she is not well – I suspect sulky – and has notappeared. I therefore give you the morning that I meantfor her. Her excuses have amazed me; because, after my lastnight’s success, and the sorry figure I had succeeded inpresenting L. to her, I half hoped my own chances might belooking up. In fact, though I have been playing a waitinggame so patiently, to all appearance, I am driven half madby self restraint. Come what may, I must end this; besides,to day is the fourth: on the tenth the steamer fromAlexandria will touch at Malta; L. will therefore be atLeghorn by the fourteenth, and here two days after – that isto say, in twelve days more my siege must be raised. If Iwere heavily ironed in a felon’s cell with the day of myexecution fixed, I could not look to the time with one-halfthe heart-sinking I now feel.“I’d give – what would I not give? – to have you near me, though in my soul I know all that you’d say; how you’dpreach never minding, letting be, and the rest of it, justas if I could cut out some other work for myself tomorrow, and think no more of her. But I cannot. No Drayton, Icannot, Is it not too hard for the fellow who cut his waythrough Lahore with sixteen followers, and made a lanethrough her Majesty’s light cavalry, to be worsted, defeated, and disgraced by a young girl, who has neitherrank, riches, nor any remarkable beauty to her share, but issimply sustained by the resolve that she’ll not have me?Mind, D., I have given her no opportunity of saying thissince I came last here: on the contrary, she would, ifquestioned, be ready – I’d swear to it she would – to say,‘Calvert paid me no attentions, nor made any court to me.’She is very truthful in everything, but who is to say whather woman’s instinct may not have revealed to her of my love?Has not the woman a man loves always a private key to hisheart, and doesn’t she go and tumble its contents about, just out of curiosity, ten times a day? Not that she’d everfind a great deal either in or on mine. Neither theindictments for murder or manslaughter, nor that otherheavier charge for H. T., have left their traces within mypericardium, and I could stand to back myself not to rave ina compromising fashion if I had a fever to-morrow. But howhollow all this boasting, when that girl within the closedwindow-shutter yonder defies me – ay, defies me! Is she togo off to her wedding with the inner consciousness of thisvictory? There’s the thought that is driving me mad, andwill, I am certain, end by producing some dire mischief – what the doctors call a lesion – in this unhappy brain ofmine. And now, as I sit here in listless idleness, thatother fellow is hastening across Egypt, or ploughing his waythrough the Red Sea, to come and marry her! I ask you, D., what amount of philosophy is required to bear up under this?“I conclude I shall leave this some time next week – not tocome near England, though – for I foresee that it will soonbe out where, how, and with whom I have been spending myholidays. Fifty fellows must suspect, and some half-dozenmust know all about it America, I take it, must be myground – as well there as anywhere else – but I can’t endurea plan, so enough of this. Don’t write to me till you hearagain, for I shall leave this certainly, though where for, not so certain.“What a deal of trouble and uncertainty that girl mightspare me if she’d only consent to say ‘Yes.’ If I see heralone this evening, I half think I shall ask her.

“Farewell for a while, and believe me,

“Yours ever,

“HARRY C.

“P.S. Nine o’clock, evening. Came down to dinner lookingexceedingly pretty, and dressed to perfection. All spite andmalice, I’m certain. Asked me to take her out to sail to-morrow. We are to go off on an exploring expedition to anisland – ‘que sais je?’“The old Grainger looks on me with aunt-like eyes. She hasseen a bracelet of carbuncles in dull gold, the like ofwhich Loyd could not give her were he to sell justice fortwenty years to come. I have hinted that I mean them for mymother-in-law whenever I marry, and she understands that theparentage admits of a representative. All this is veryignoble on my part; but if I knew of anything meaner thatwould ensure me success, I’d do it also.“What a stunning vendetta on this girl, if she were at lastto consent, to find out whom she had married, and what.Think of the winter nights’ tales, of the charges that hangover me, and their penalties. Imagine the Hue and Cry aslight reading for the honeymoon!”

He added one line on the envelope, to say he would write again on the morrow; but his promise he did not keep.

CHAPTER XXIII. A STORM

THE boat excursion mentioned in Calvert’s letter was not the only pleasure-project of that day. It was settled that Mr. Stockwell should come out and give Milly a lesson in photography, in which, under Loyd’s former guidance, she had already made some progress. He was also to give Miss Grainger some flower-seeds of a very rare kind, of which he was carrying a store to the Pasha of Egypt, and which required some peculiar skill in the sowing. They were to dine, too, at a little rustic house beside the lake; and, in fact, the day was to be one of festivity and enjoyment.

The morning broke splendidly; and though a few clouds lingered about the Alpine valleys, the sky over the lake was cloudless, and the water was streaked and marbled with those parti-coloured lines which Italian lakes wear in the hot days of midsummer. It was one of those autumnal mornings in which the mellow colouring of the mature season blends with the soft air and gentle breath of spring, and all the features of landscape are displayed in their fullest beauty. Calvert and Florence were to visit the Isola de San Giulio, and bring back great clusters of the flowers of the “San Guiseppe” trees, to deck the dinner-table. They were also to go on as far as Pella for ice or snow to cool their wine, the voyage being, as Calvert said, a blending of the picturesque with the profitable.

Before breakfast was over the sky grew slightly, overcast, and a large mass of dark cloud stood motionless Over the summit of Monterone.

“What will the weather do, Carlo?” asked Calvert of the old boatman of the villa, as he came to say that all was in readiness.

“Who knows, ‘cellenza?” said he, with a native shrug of the shoulders. “Monterone is a big traitor of a mountain, and there’s no believing him. If that cloud scatters, the day will be fine; if the wind brings down fresh clouds from the Alps it will come on a ‘burrasca’.”