The Master of the Ceremonies Read online

arms, and kissed her tenderly.

  "Why, Claire, my pet, how are you?" he cried; and Eliza, who had peepedthrough the key-hole, gave her foot a spiteful stamp.

  "So miserable, Fred dear. But you must not come here."

  "Oh, I won't come to the front, and disgrace you all; but hang it, youmight let me come to the back. Getting too proud, I suppose."

  "Fred! don't talk so, dear. You hurt me."

  "Well, I won't, pet. Bless you for a dear, sweet girl. But it doesseem hard."

  "Then why not try and leave the service, Fred? I'll save all I can totry and buy you out, but you must help me."

  "Bah! Stuff, little one! What's the good? Suppose I get my discharge.That's the good? What can I do? I shall only take to the drink again.I'm not fit for anything but a common soldier. No; I must stop as Iam. The poor old governor meant well, Clairy, but it was beggarlywork--flunkey work, and it disgusted me."

  "Oh, Fred!"

  "Well, it did, little one. I was sick of the fashionable starvation,and I suppose I was too fond of the drink, and so I enlisted."

  "But you don't drink much now, Fred."

  "Don't get the chance, little one," he said, with a bluff laugh."There, I'll keep away. I won't disgrace you all."

  "Dear Fred," said Claire, crying softly.

  "And I won't talk bitterly to you, my pet. I say, didn't I see theMajor come in at the front?"

  "Yes, dear. He went up to see Lady Teigne. She is at home thisafternoon."

  "Oh, that's right. Didn't come to see you. Master comes in at thefront to see the countess; Private James Bell comes in at the back tosee you, eh?"

  "Fred, dear, you hurt me when you talk like this."

  "Then I'll be serious. Rum thing I should drift into being the Major'sservant, isn't it? Makes me know him, though. I say, Clairy, you're abeautiful girl, and there's no knowing who may come courting."

  "Hush, Fred!"

  "Not I. Let me speak. Look here: our Major's one of the handsomest menin the town, Prince's favourite, and all that sort of thing; but if everhe speaks to you, be on your guard, for he's as big a scoundrel as everbreathed, and over head in debt."

  "Don't be afraid, Fred," said the girl, smiling.

  "I'm not, pet. So the old girl's at home, is she?"

  "Yes."

  "Sitting in her diamonds and lace, eh?"

  Claire nodded.

  "Wish I had some of them instead of that old cat--hang her!--for I'mawfully short of money. I say, dear, can you let me have a fewshillings?"

  Claire's white forehead wrinkled, and she looked at the young soldier ina troubled way, as she drew a little bead purse from her pocket, openedit, and poured five shillings into the broad hand.

  "Thank ye," he said coolly, as his eyes rested on the purse. Then,starting up--"Hang it, no," he cried; "I can't. Here, catch hold.Good--bye; God bless you!"

  He thrust the money back into her hand, caught her in his arms andkissed her, and before she could detain him he was gone.

  That afternoon and evening passed gloomily for Claire. Her father, whenhe returned from his walk, was restless and strange, and was constantlywalking up and down the room.

  To make matters worse, her visitor of that afternoon went by two orthree times on the other side of the road, gazing very attentively up atthe house, and she was afraid that their father might see him.

  Then Major Rockley went by, smoking a cigar, raised his hat to her as hesaw her at the window, and at the same moment as she returned his saluteshe saw Private James Bell on the other side, looking at her with afrown full of reproach.

  Bedtime came at last, after a serious encounter between the Master ofthe Ceremonies and his son Morton for staying out till ten. Claire hadto go to Lady Teigne again to give her the sleeping-draught she alwaystook, eighty years not having made her so weary that she could sleep;and then there was the wine-glass to half fill with water, and quitefill with salad oil, so that a floating wick might burn till morning.

  "Good-night, Lady Teigne," said Claire softly.

  There was no answer; and the young girl bent over the wreck of thefashionable beauty, thinking how like she looked to death.

  Midnight, and the tide going out, while the waves broke restlessly uponthe shingle, which they bathed with pallid golden foam. The sea wasblack as ink, with diamonds sparkling in it here and there reflectedfrom the encrusted sky; and there was the glitter and sparkle of jewelsin Lady Teigne's bedchamber, as two white hands softly lifted them fromthe wrenched-open casket.

  That floating wick in the glass of oil looked like the condensation ofsome of the phosphorescence of the sea, and in its light the jewelsglittered; but it cast as well a boldly-thrown aquiline shadow on thechamber wall. _Ching_!

  The jewels fell back into the casket as a gasp came from the bed, andthe man saw the light of recognition in the eyes that glared in his asthe old woman sat up, holding herself there with her supporting hands.

  "Ah!" she cried. "You?"

  The word "Help!"--a harsh, wild cry--was half formed, but only half, forin an instant she was dashed back, and the great down pillow pressedover her face.

  The tide was going out fast.

  Volume One, Chapter V.

  A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED.

  There was a flush on Claire Denville's cheek as she turned restlesslyupon her pillow. Her dreams were of pain and trouble, and from time totime a sigh escaped her lips.

  The rushlight which burned in a socket set in the middle of a tin cup ofwater, surrounded by a japanned cylinder full of holes, sent curiousshadows and feeble rays about the plainly furnished room, givingeverything a weird and ghostly look as the thin rush candle burnedslowly down.

  All at once she started up, listened, and remained there, hardlybreathing. Then, as if not satisfied, she rose, hurriedly dressedherself, and, lighting a candle, went down to Lady Teigne's room.

  The position had been unsought, but had been forced upon her by theexacting old woman, and by degrees Claire had found herself personalattendant, and liable to be called up at any moment during one of themany little attacks that the great sapper and miner made upon the weakfortress, tottering to its fall.

  Was it fancy, or had she heard Lady Teigne call?

  It seemed to Claire, as she descended, that she had been lying in anoppressive dream, listening to call after call, but unable to move andmaster the unseen force that held her down.

  She paused as she reached the landing, with the drawing-room door on herright, Lady Teigne's bedroom before her, and, down a short passage onher left, her father's room. Isaac slept in his pantry, by the emptyplate-chest and the wineless cellar. Morton's room was next her own, onthe upper floor, and the maids slept at the back.

  The only sound to be heard was the faint wash of the waves as theycurled over upon the shingle where the tide was going out.

  "It must have been fancy," said Claire, after listening intently; andshe stood there with the light throwing up the eager look upon her face,with her lips half parted, and a tremulous motion about her well-cutnostrils as her bosom rose and fell.

  Then, drawing a breath full of relief, she turned to go, the horror thathad assailed her dying off; for ever since Lady Teigne had been beneaththeir roof, Claire had been haunted by the idea that some night shewould be called up at a time when the visit her ladyship insisted inevery act was so far off had been paid.

  Feeling for the moment, then, satisfied that she had been deceived,Claire ascended three or four stairs, her sweet face growing composed,and the soft, rather saddened smile that generally sat upon her lipsgradually returning, when, as if moved by a fresh impulse, she descendedagain, listened, and then softly turned the handle of the door, andentered.

  She did not close the door behind her, only letting it swing to, andthen, raising the candle above her head, glanced round.

  There was nothing to take her attention.

  The curtain of the bed was drawn along by the head, and in an untidyway, l
eaving the end of the bolster exposed. But that only indicatedthat the fidgety, querulous old woman had fancied she could feel adraught from the folding-doors that led into the drawing-room, and shehad often drawn them like that before.

  "She is fast asleep," thought Claire.

  The girl was right; Lady Teigne was fast asleep.

  "If I let the light fall upon her face it will wake her," she said toherself.

  But it was an error; the light Claire Denville carried was too dim forthat. Still she hesitated to approach the bedside, knowing that unlessshe took her opiate medicine Lady Teigne's night's rest was of a kindthat rendered her peevish and irritable the whole of the next day, andas full of whims as some fretful child.

  She seemed to