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CHAPTER XIV

FOR almost the first time in her healthy life Kate spent an altogether wakeful night. Look where she would, think hard as she might, she could see nothing but danger ahead. Just when she was beginning to feel most secure had come this unexpected and terrible blow. What had induced her ever to consent to the Pines being let? What ill wind of fate had driven Sir John Fenton-Douglas of all people into her path? Why should he of all men have decided to rent the Pines? Whatever happened she must not meet him. Neither must her husband meet him. To live therefore at Castellis with Sir John at the Pines was an impossibility.

"This is Nemesis," she murmured to herself. "Am I to fail in the end? No, no, no. I will carry the thing right through. This man, this doctor, this tiresome rubbishy inconsequent person, shall not destroy my whole life."

She listened to her husband's quiet breathing, and felt that she would fight to the death--would go through any mire or any dishonour just to keep his affections.

"It is no longer wealth," she thought to herself, "it is no longer the position I have attained, it is the love of my husband which I want, which I must never, as there is a God above, lose. Oh, what shall I do? He must not despise me. His love would go if he knew the truth. He must never know it."

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Towards morning she had thorght out a plan; it was not a good plan, but it was the best that could occur to her. Instead of getting up as usual to breakfast, she turned on her side and pretended to sleep. When her husband was dressed he came into the room, was startled to find her in bed, bent over her and said anxiously--"

"Why, Kitty, are you ill? What is the matter?"

"I have a very bad headache," answered Kate. "I didn't sleep at all last night. Something happened, Ralph, in the night."

"Something happened, my dearest Kate! What do you mean?"

"You know Castellis is haunted. I saw the ghost last night!"

"Folly, Kitty. My dearest Kitty, you are not quite such a silly goose. You don't believe in anything so rubbishy as a poor old ghost?"

"Seeing is believing," answered Kate. She covered her face and shuddered. "I won't get up yet. My head throbs and my eyes are tired. Send Marryat to me."

"Very well, darling. I will come up myself as soon as ever I have had breakfast."

"No, don't do that, dear Ralph; you were going shooting this morning."

"Yes, two of our neighbours were coming over--Simmonds and Johnson. I had arranged to meet them in the coverts at ten o'clock."

"Then do meet them, Ralph; keep your engagement. And oh, take the girls with you. You can order lunch to be sent to one of the gamekeepers' lodges; they would enjoy it."

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"But can't you come too? It will be nothing without you."

"I cannot; I have got such a bad headache that I am quite prostrated."

Henley left the room reluctantly. A few moments later Marryat appeared.

"What is it, madam?" she said, approaching her young mistress and bending over her.

Kate sat up in bed and gazed at Marryat with wide-open bright eyes.

"I am in a fix," she said, "that's all."

"I have brought you your post, madam, and also your breakfast."

"Oh, thanks. Lay the post on the bed."

"You must eat your breakfast, madam."

Kate made no reply; she kept gazing at Marryat; her teeth were chattering.

"There is another letter from that person," continued the maid. "It arrived by the last post last night. I thought you might as well receive it with the others this morning."

"Lay it on the bed," said Kate.

"What is the matter with you, madam? You don't look well."

"Marryat, I am in a fix."

"How so, my dear madam?"

"I wish I might confide in you," said Kate. "But I cannot--I do not dare. Lock the door, please."

Marryat complied. She then returned to the bedside.

"The first thing you must do is to eat your breakfast," she said, assuming a tone of authority. She arranged Kate's pillows, wrapped a white shawl round her shoulders, and then setting the tray on a | | 131 table by the side of the bed, stood herself at the foot. Marryat's bright black eyes travelled all over Kate's face; she then stood motionless.

Kate glanced at her letters. Even the letter with the Mentone postmark, which generally excited her keenest alarm, had now scarcely power to rouse her.

" Marryat," she said, looking full at the maid, "we must go away. We must make an excuse and get away."

"Away from Castellis?" cried Marryat.

"And you must help me."

"But how can I?" said the woman.

"That remains to be discovered. We have got to think of a plausible reason for going away, and I--I think I have found one."

"But surely, madam, you will think carefully over this. You have only just arrived, and the two young ladies from the Grange only came here last night. I am told that the gentlemen and ladies living round here are looking forward to enjoying a great deal of your society, and already you have had many invitations from them. It will look very strange--very strange indeed, madam."

"I don't care the very least what the neighbours think. We must get away," repeated Kate. "And what is more, I must go to-day."

"But how? and why?" said the woman.

"I am not going to tell you why, but I will tell you how. I have thought it all out in the night. I shall leave here by the two o'clock train and go to Falmouth. Falmouth is only thirty miles away by train. My husband can join me there."

"And am I to go with you?"

"Yes; and to ask no questions."

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"Of course I won't ask any questions, Mrs. Henley."

"Please, Marryat, give me my purse."

Marryat's eyes brightened. She went to the dressing-table and brought the little sealskin purse to Kate. Kate opened it, took out ten sovereigns, and laid them on the bed.

"These are for you--for keeping silence," she said.

"Oh, I will keep silent till the day of doom for a reward like this," said the woman, as she hastily gathered up the money.

"I believe you will. And listen; I will give you more, much more, if--if that which troubles me--my secret, if you like to call it--is safe at the end of the year. In that event I will make you a rich woman, Marryat. I long for some one to consult with, some one to advise me, some one with whom I may talk things over."

"If you would only confide in me fully, dear lady, your mind would be much relieved. And I--I can be trusted."

Kate shivered.

"I cannot do that," she said. "Now go and pack a few things. We will both go to Falmouth."

"When will you tell Mr. Henley?"

"I will write him a letter; he can receive it after I have gone. He and the young ladies will be out all the morning; we will go while they are absent."

"But my master won't like it."

"He will follow me, of course. And the girls can go home. They don't matter in the very least. Go, Marryat, now, and begin to pack my things. You will know what I shall require."

"Many things, madam?"

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"Oh, pack a good few. We will take a large trunk; the rest can follow as they are wanted."

"Does this mean that you are not coming back?"

"I shall not come back at present--perhaps not for a very long time. I hate Castellis."

"And yet it is the most beautiful place I ever saw in my life," said the woman. "It seems a great pity."

"Marryat, you have heard the story of the ghost. You yourself told it to me yesterday."

"Oh, there is nothing in that. You don't mean to say it is that which is sending you away?"

Kate laughed.

"Not quite," she answered; "but it will do for an excuse. Now, you understand. Go and pack."

"It seems a great pity," murmured Marryat.

"Oh, dont fret about Castellis," said Kate feverishly. "I am rich, and can buy another place. Now go, Marryat, and put the things into my trunk."

The woman left the room.

Kate toyed with her breakfast, scarcely touching it. She had opened her letters. Her correspondence was numerous. She finally took up the last--the one with the Mentone postmark. She read it quickly. It contained the usual thing--a peremptory demand for money. Kate rose hastily, took a five-pound note from a private drawer, enclosed it to the writer of the letter, addressed and stamped the envelope, and then continued her toilet.

Presently her husband came up and knocked at the door. Kate thrust aside her correspondence and ran to open it. Her cheeks were feverishly bright and her eyes shining.

"The girls are so sorry about you, my darling; | | 134 and, I declare, you don't look a bit well. Won't you go for a drive? I'll stay at home and look after you. Kitty, I don't like that expression on your face; you look quite woe-begone, my dearest love."

"Kiss me, Ralph, and leave me," said Kate. "My head won't stand much talk this morning, and I shall be better alone; but give me a kiss before you go."

She raised her soft lips. He bent over her and gave her a long kiss.

"My dearest, I hate leaving you," he replied.

"Oh, but you need not, for I am really better. I will have a good rest while you are out."

Ralph said a few more comforting words and then ran downstairs. Kate relocked her door and went and stood by the window. A few moments later she saw the three men, accompanied by the two girls, cross the grassy sward and disappear into the coverts at the farther end. Soon afterwards the report of guns came to her. She looked with wistful eyes over the beautiful autumn landscape. No place in all the world could be fairer than Castellis, and the view of wood, and meadow, and lake, and distant mountains was superb.

"Mine. The fruit of my sin," she murmured. "But I must give it all up. Not that I mind; I don't mind anything if I can keep Ralph."

She hurried eagerly into the dressing-room, where Marryat was on her knees packing her trunk.

"I want you to select some of your dresses, madam," she said.

"Oh, you choose them," said Kate.

"But it won't take you any time just to look into your wardrobe and make a selection."

Kate crossed the room hastily; she unlocked the | | 135 doors of the great wardrobe and flung them open. She then made a hurried choice.

"This--and this--and this," she said. "Oh, and this white silk and this green Liberty dress. Yes, and this pink one. Anything else you choose. Some blouses, and a few white frocks. That's all right."

"With all this luggage I had better order the brougham with the tray on top," said Marryat.

"No, I won't go in the brougham," said Kate hastily; "it would stifle me. I will drive the ponies, and the luggage can follow in a cart. You must be quick, Marryat; we must catch the two o'clock train."

Kate left the room and returned to her own.

"Now to write to my husband," she said to herself. She sat down at her little writing-table and began her letter.

Having signed the letter, Kate left it on the table in the hall, and soon after one o'clock that day had left Castellis accompanied by Marryat.

"I hear that the family are coming to the Pines to-day, madam," said the maid, "and that they are remarkably nice people. But what is the matter? How you shiver, madam."

"What carriage is that coming up the hill? " asked Kate suddenly.

"I don't know, madam. There is a lot of luggage on it. It is a travelling carriage of some sort. Why, there is only one gentleman inside, and he is bending forward. He seems to know you."

A tall man with iron-grey hair was seated alone in the carriage. The moment he saw Kate he started, stared at her, and took off his hat. But Kate had already pulled down her veil, and her head was turned resolutely away. She whipped up her ponies, who passed the travelling carriage at a gallop.

Marryat's curious eyes followed the carriage and the man who sat in it. She then glanced at Kate.

"It's because of him she is going," thought the astute woman. "Now, what does this mean?"

The groom who sat behind touched Marryat on her shoulder, and said--

"That is the gentleman who has taken the Pines. His name is Sir John Fenton-Douglas. I am told the family arrive to-night."

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"Sir John Fenton-Douglas," repeated Marryat. "He seemed as if he knew you, madam."

"Knew me?" said Kate. "You must have been mistaken. What sort of person was he?"

"A middle-aged gentleman, with grey hair. He had a very keen face--clever and interesting, I should say. He certainly seemed to know you quite well, madam. He bent forward and bowed, and stared so hard. Didn't you see him?"

"No; these ponies are so fresh they take all my attention. Don't talk any more, Marryat; my head aches past bearing."

"I'm not a bit surprised at that," thought the woman. "It's Sir John Fenton-Douglas who is sending her away. The mystery thickens. But what does it mean?"