CHAPTER IV

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVII, Issue 23, 8 June 1899, Page 24

CHAPTER IV

Lord Harlath spent the next morning in a manner highly satisfastory to himself ; first by interviewing Miss Swanton, and speaking to her in terms which could leave no self-respecting person any alternative save to depart from his employment on the spot, and secondly, by composing a most insulting letter to Mrs. Talbot, dismissing her from her post. That was, however, no more than she expected.

As for Mechtilde, she set off after breakfast with her maid to try and find out where was the nearest Citholic Church, and, to her relief, discovered a chapel just on the other bide of the Park, where Mass was said on Sunday*.

On her return home she was bitterly grieved to find Miss Swanton preparing for instant departure, and though the high•pirited girl resolved to face her trials bravely, yet she became so ill towards evening with violent headache that her appearance at dinner was quite out of the question.

Next morning-, though still suffering, she rose in time to go to church, and bidding her maid, who was not quite ready, follow her, went down into the hall ; but her father suspecting lu-r intention of attending Mass was prepared to thwart it, and was kaning against the closed hall door.

She stopped, being taken aback, and looked helplessly at him. But he made no move, and left it to her to speak first, when she presently did, asking him gently to allow her to pass. ' Where are you going to " he demanded. ' To Mass, fattKr.' ' Then to Mass you will not go. At 1 1 o'clock you shall come to church with me hki- a dutiful daughter.'

'Father, I cannot do that Oh, father, do let me pass she pleaded, but on? might as well ha\e prayed one of the marble statues that adorned the hall to move from 'its ped^tal. Mechtilde was firmly resolved to reach thy chapel in time for Mass, but it w a-* quite plain that .she would not be able to get out of the house by the hall door. Thm there lla-hid into her mind the idea of trying some other means of exit. She walked quietly away and went into the library.

Lord Harlath, concluding that «he wished to get their guest to plead her cause, smiled to l.nrsdr. and for some moments did not trouble to follow.

The girl crowed the room without observing James Durrant, who was writing at one of the table-, throw up the window, climbed out, and was walking rapidly across the lawn before the young man could recover from li s astonishment, but. a mnmentjlater, the~sight of the baffled aud infuriated ole lord in the doorway gave a clue" to the mystery.

Then ensued a scene which eclipsed that of the Friday night, and Durrant could only save Mechtilde from the indignity of being pursued by the servant by undertaking to follow her and fetch her back hirn<elf. which he accordingly did, waiting close to the chapel until she came out— after the service. She was a little surprised to pee him, bub he ioined her quite naturally, and together they turned into the park.

' You had some trouble about getting to church,' he observed after they had walked a little way in silence. ' She nodded, and, meeting the compassionate glance of his grey eyes, her dignity and self-control suddenly collapsed, and she burst into tears.

' Poor child !' said Durrant. ' But what are you going to do 1 Things cannot continue like this.' ' Tell me, what must I do !' she pleaded. ' There is but one counsel to give,' he answered. ' You must conform, at least outwardly, to your father's religion.' ' No, no t' she cried at once. ' That would be very wrong. I cannot sell God's peace for that of men.'

' But what will become cf you 1 Your father is stronger than you, and in time he will wear you out.'

' I will trust in God,' she said simply. ' Nothing can happen to me save what is His Will,' and at these words a strange ilight came into her face, causing her companion to wonder if an angel might visit the earth under the name of a woman.

On reaching the house, Mechtilde was summoned into her father's presence, who, if the actual violence of his wrath had abated, was in a cruel, unrelenting humour. He explained in a few

words that since she persisted in trying to practice the Catholic religion he meant to have her put under lock and key until her obstinacy was overcome, and, as she made no answer to this threat, he dismissed her, adding thai the housekeeper would be given orders to immediately send away her Catholic maid. Mechtilde went upstairs, but it was only when presently the key was turned in the door of her room that she grasped the meaning of the situation. Then followed a bitter sense of loneliness and helplessness, and throwing herself on the bed, she wept until pitiful sleep bore her back in its gentle arms to Kilmore. So strong was the spell of ' Nature's soft' nurse ' that the entrance of a servant with some lunch did not break it, and it was late in the afternoon when Mechtilde returned once more to bitter reality.

One of the housemaids had been appointed her gaoler, and the sense of bemg, so to speak, under a servant's dominion hurt the girl's high-born pride and was more difficult not to resent than auythinjr her father had yet done.

The day dragged on very wearily, too, for though she happened to have plenty of needlework to occupy her hands, there was nothing to occupy her thoughts, and she could not summon up courage to send her father a petition for some books. Often she wondered if James Durrant was still in the house, and therefore aware of her position, and whether he had pleaded for her. But, as a fact the young man's visit had ended the day after Mechtilde was locked up. More than a fortnight passed, and want of fresh air was causing the young girl to droop and refuse food, like a captive bird, when one morning an unexpected message came ordering her to be set at liberty.

She lunched alone in the big dining-room, and afterwards wandered out into the gardens. It has been said that in order to fully appreciate the value of freedom it is necessary to have taated captivity, and Mechtilde certainly wondered if the grass had ever been so green, the sunshine so gay, or the bird-oiusic so sweet as on this May afternoon.

By and bye she sat down on a garden bench, and, taking off her hat, let the light wind caress her forehead, and fell to thinking aa was her wont, but soon was disturbed by the sound of footsteps on the gravel path, and saw with surprise James Durrant coming along. evidently seeking someone.

On catching sight of her he quickenei his step, and, she went forward to meet, him.

After the first words of greeting, he explained that he had just arrived, and asked how she had been spending her time since their last meeting, which caused her to recount in her simple way about the solitary confinement, from which she bad but just escaped, adding, as an involuntary expression of indignation ros<3 to her lips . ' You must not blame my father ; he must do what he thinkt right, just as I must.' Not bdng able to see the right of shutting up an innocent young girl, and allowing her neither fresh air nor companionship James Durrant answered nothing, but after a short pause be said : 1 You are of •• the stuff " of which martyrs are made, and I do not like to think you will be a martyr, Meohtilde. There is a way out of all these dilh'culties by which you shall have a pledge that the practice of your religion will never be interfered with.' She was too unconscious to attach any significance to the fact that he had called her by her Christian name, but turning her lovely, eager, child-face towards him said : ' Tell me, w hat must I do to win this pledge il'i 1 ' Taking her hands and looking down into her eyes, he answered by a question or rather by a petition : ' Mechtilde, will you be my wife ?' She sDraiig to her feet, wrenching herself free, and gasped, catching her breath between the words. ' Oh, no ! I many not marry one who is — who is not a Catholic.' ' If that were all,' he replied, though startled in his turn by her manner, ' you can get a dispensation from your Church. lam ready to make all the required concisions.' She shook her head. ' But it is never God's wish for a Catholic and Protestant to marry, and God has been to good to me in giving me true faith. I will do nothing except that which pleases Him most.' And she began to move away. 1 Answer me one question, Mechtilde,' he said, getting in front of her. 'Do you dislike me ?' Then covering up her face she began to cry. ' Mechtilde, do you love me ?' Still no answer ; she only shook from head to foot with the violence of her weepiDg. Very gently he drew her hands away from her eyes, and, stooping, pressed a long kiss— as full of homage as of love— upon her forehead. With a moaning cry she turned and fled — terrified not of him but of her own heart.