Chapter XXIII.

Otago Witness, Issue 2046, 11 May 1893, Page 39

Chapter XXIII.

Bitter Words. TILL Sir James did not speak i he stood there' t looking at her, haggard, hollow-eyed, like a man whose death-warrant had just fallen on his ears. "Is there anything the matter 7 " at last asked Miriam, falteringly. Then Sir James's tongue was loosed.

41 Why have you come back ? " he asked darkly, hoarsely; "back to the home you have dishonoured 2 "

" James 1" 14 Don't call me James, don't speak to me," continued Sir James with rising passion. " I saw it with my own eyes ; I would believe nothing against you ; nothing thai others were ready to whisper in my ears. But I saw you steal out to meet the man Dare — the soldier who has followed you here ; I saw you in his arms, it was enough, and everything is ended between us." Miriam did not speak ; her face blanched and her lips trembled, but still she looked up into her husband's face as he launched his bitter accusations against her. 14 To have fallen so low ; who to look at you would believe it possible? To have letters sent to you addressed to your maid ; letters from your lover ; and to send your maid with letters to him I You see I know everything, so any denial on your part is useless." „. „ „ "I am not denying anything," said Miriam ; " but you are mistaken." " Mistaken 1" cried Sir James, with a bitter laugh; "would that I were, but I know that lam not. I eTen saw your vile signals from the windows of your husband's

house. Had you no thought of your good name nor mine ? Why did you marry me 7 But I need not ask."

41 1 married you, meaning to act rightly to you, and I have done you no wrong," answered Miriam more firmly. " What you saw was a last parting with an old friend, who is leaving England at once."

44 You had better go with him," scoffed Sir James.

"No, James," said Miriam, bursting into sudden tears, "I will not go with him; I have no wish to go with him, though you may not believe me."

41 1 do not believe you ; or I believe you this far, that you prefer the comforts of the home I can give you to the one you would share with a private soldier ! lam honoured truly ; you wish to stay under your husband's roof and meet your lovers outside it."

41 Say no more, that is enough ! " cried Miriam. " I will not stay under your roof to listen to such words."

" No, you .certainly shall not stay under my roof," said Sir James with gloomy emphasis; "my roof shall never shelter a dishonoured wife."

He spoke these words loudly, passionately, and then left the room, leaving Miriam overwhelmed with this sudden blow. That lie should speak thus to her ; he who seemed to love her so deeply that he never seemed happy out of her presence. She forgot that it was this very love which made him so harsh and bitter ; forgot that she had fatally compromised herself in his sight. She had gone out to meet Hugh Ferrars with no thought of wronging Sir James. Gone to try to help Ferrars to escape, and also to avoid the tragic story of the death of Eobert Oonray ever being revived. She had hoped that her husband would never hear it ; and that Joan's delirious words would never reach his ears. And this was the end of it. Miriam rung her hands and wept the bitterest tears as she sat there alone in the gathering darkness after Sir James left her. 44 1 bring nothing but misery," she cried ; 44 misery to Hugh, and now to poor James ; misery, and he said disgrace — but I shall never do that, never, never, whatever he may say." His words, in truth, had cut her to the heart.

"He was always so good and kind," she moaned. "Oh 1 so good, and that I should have wounded him so I And I cannot tell him the truth or perhaps he might forgive me; but no, no, that is impossible — Hugh Ferrar's life and Joan's home and honour depend on my silence. I must bear the loss of his_love, of everything— bub it was hard, hard of him to speak such words." She knew not how long she sat there bemoaning her fate. But after some time a rap came to the door, and Ford entered. 11 Oh ! my lady ! " she said when she saw Miriam's bowed figure.

Ford already knew some tragedy had happened in the family. Dinner had been served, but only the Dowager Lady MacKennon had appeared at the board. Sir James had gone out with a gloomy brow, and armed with a heavy dog-whip, and Miriam had never rung for her maid to dress her, and Ford had been afraid to intrude.

11 But she can't starve whatever happens," she had said to the butler, and the butler agreed with her, and between them they settled that Ford should go upstairs and see what refreshment young Lady MaoKennon would partake of. 14 1 advise a bottle of champagne, Ford. You recommend that," said the butler, " it raises the spirits better when they are down than anything, and I suppose the yogng couple have had a quarrel or some nonsense ? "

Ford discreetly pursed her pretty lips. She had given out in the household at Kin tore that she was on very confidential terms with her lady, and the butler was curious to know if she knew any more than he did. But to Ford justice, she made no revelations. She said nothing, but looked much, and then went upstairs to see what her lady would take.

And as Ford entered the room Miriam raised her tear-stained face. The candle she had lit was still burning, and by it Ford saw the tears, and grew afraid that something dreadfnl had happened. "My lady, you must have something to eat," continued Ford, lighting the other candles and stirring the fire. "I have brought you up a little champagne ; will you try that, and don't give way so ; I daresay it will all come right." Miriam shook her head despairingly. 41 I am sure I was always against it," went on Ford ; " always frightened, my lady. You see there are such spies about, and I suppose some of thsm have been carrying tales to Sir James's ears. He's not been in to dinner ; but has gone out with such a face, the butler says " " Gone out 7 " interrupted Miriam. 11 Yes, my lady," but Ford had the discretion to drop the story of the dog- whip, as she justly thought it would only make matters worse. " But never mind just now ; do try a little champagne, it will cheer you, and you see the butler has drawn the cork."

Miriam drank a little of the sparkling wine Ford |held towards her, for she felt utterly worn out alike in mind and body. The long, unusual walk she had taken and the excitement she had gone through had completely worn her out, and she felt half fainting.

"And now you must have something to eat," said Ford. "There's some lovely chicken and tongue, and I will bring it up in a minute."

" No ; I can eat nothing ; lam very tired. I will lie down on the bed, I think."

" Now, my lady, we'll just have you in a fever again, like you were at Newborough-on-the-Sea if you don't eat something. Do try. Is there anything else you would like 7 The butler said there was pheasant."

41 I will have some tea ; nothing else."

She could not indeed be persuaded to break her fast. Her lips felt parched, and her hands began to burn, and her head aud heart ached. She lay on the bed, and Ford went in and out of the room, and in about two hours later came to tell her that Sir James had returned.

•' I thought you would like to know, my lady," she said. 41 Yes, thank you," answered Miriam. t It was indeed a relief to her mind to know that he was in the house again, and she lay hoping he would oome up to inquire about her, But no; she saw nothing of him,

and so the weary hours of night dragged their slow length away. It was quite true what the butler had told Ford, that Sir James had gone out at dinner-time with a gloomy brow and armed with a heavy dog- whip. He had left Miriam indeed with his heart bursting with rage> jealousy, and despair. But he would revenge himself on that hound, he told himself, as he strode downstairs ; as he went to the whip-rack and took the heaviest whip be could find there. He meant to horsewhip Dare, and he walked as quickly as he could along the loch side to Strathloe full of this purpose. But when he reached the little inn he was doomed to be disappointed. He entered at the open door and ths landlord at once appeared, deferentially, to welcome him.

44 You hav3 come to see about your horse, Sir James 7 " he said.

Sir James had forgotten all about his horse; had forgotten everything but the overpowering jealous passion in his heart. " I came to see that man who is staying here— Dare," he said, abruptly. 41 Then, Sir James, ye're too late," replied the landlord. "Mr Dare cam' in an 'oor or sa ago and called for his reckoning— it wasn'a much — and paid it, wi' something besides, and went awa'. But he's left his bag behind him, sa maybe he'll soon be back again, but he didn't say sa." An oath rose on Sir James's lips which with difficulty he suppressed. 41 He seemed sare downhearted, the wife said, when he cam' in," continued the landlord ; " I fear he's bad ill news, for he was a pleasant- spoken gentleman." Sir James asked nothing further. His enemy was gone ; he was baulked of his vengeance, and so he strode out of the little inn without once mentioning his horse, to the utter astonishment of the landlord.

41 Something's gane wrang wi' Sir James," he decided, but he was a discreet man and kept his opinion to himself. Something, indeed, ha^l gone wrong with him ! In one afternoon he had lost all interest in life — all hope. It seemed to him as he walked back to Kintore that everything was done for him. There was a stony look of grief in his eyes — a stony weight of grief on bis heart. His mother, who had been watching for him anxiously, went out to meet him as he entered the hall and drew him into the dining room, where she had kept the dinner waitirig for him. But Sir James refused to break bread. He drank some whisky and sat staring into the fire like a man distraught. "Oh, James, you should not give way thus," said the dowager, going up to his chair and laying her hand on his shoulder. She was frightened ; she had done her duty, but it seemed to have broken her son's heart !

44 It's flying against the will of Providence, James," continued Lady MacKennon. "I lost your father and I bore it ; you have but lost your wife — an unworthy wife, for I see it in your face — and you should at least try to bear it like a man."

Sir James gave a harsh and bitter laugh, and pushed his mother's wrinkled hand away. 41 Does he unworthiness make it less hard to bear, do you think ? " h6 cried, starting to his feet and beginning to pace the room. 41 Mother, I swear," he added, " I would rather have seen her dead, though my heart would have been buried in her grave, than have learnt what I know to-day 1 "

44 1 warned you, James." 41 Yes, you poisoned my happiness ; but for you I should not have been the miserable man that I am now."

Lady MacKennon was silent, for his, words stnng her. 41 1 shall leave England ; I shall gb to India, and a stray shot or a fever may make an end of me there. Yes, mother, you will soon be rid of your son," and in this wild and reckless mood Sir James spent the rest of the night.