I PAMELA CONGREVE Pamela Congreve. A NOVEL By FRANCES AYMAR MATHEWS AUTHOR OF " My Lady Peggy Goes to Town," "A Little Tragedy at Tien Tsin," etc., etc. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS NEW YORK 3DaHfi, iHrati anU Companp 1904 c'5. COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY Stage Rights ttie Property of the Auttwr Published April, 1904 To G. A. D. Poet, Artist, Sculptor, Novelist, Philanthropist, Friend CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE FAIREST FACE IN ALL ENGLAND ... 3 II. THE PLAYERS' BOOTH AT TAMWORTH FAIR . 10 III. WHILE THE TIDE SLIPPED OUT .... 18 IV. "POSIES! POSIES! WILL YE HAVE MY POSIES?" 22 V. THE DANCING LESSON 32 VI. Two STRINGS HATH LADY BETTY TO HER Bow 41 VII. "PELHAM" 53 VIII. " I HA' DONE A MURDER " 67 IX. THE SWEET-ACRE 84 X. LADY BETTY MAKES UP HER MIND . . . 101 XI. SIR THOMAS VISITS THE BOTTOMLESS PIT . .112 XII. SIR THOMAS' FAMILY FOLLOWS His LEAD . . 123 XIII. "PASTORELLA" 133 XIV. THE ADORABLE CAPTAIN MIRABEAU . . . 142 XV. THE DEED TO HARLOWE HOUSE .... 154 XVI. THE PARAMOUNT THIRD 160 XVII. THE HOUR BEFORE THE DAWN .... 169 XVIII. ALL IN A CARRIER'S CART WENT SHE . . . 173 XIX. "WHERE'S PAMELA?" 177 XX. AT THE CAT AND FIDDLE 188 XXI. AT THE THRESHOLD OF ST. BEES .... 203 XXII. THE WRECK OF THE PORTAFERRY FRIGATE . . 212 XXIII. BACK IN LONDON 227 XXIV. AT THE ASTROLOGER'S IN THE STRAND . . . 237 XXV. AT HAHLOWE HOUSE 247 vii Vlll CONTENTS CHAPTER XXVI. "I'LL TELL THEE ALL TO-MORROW" XXVII. THE SILVER KEY XXVIII. "BEHOLD, IT is TO-MORROW" XXIX. SURREY BEAUCLEHC XXX. ON TOP OF THE GARDEN WALL . XXXI. THE PLOT OF THE PLAY XXXII. WHY SHE LOVED HIM .... XXXIII. THE PASSWORD XXXIV. A RIDE FOR A LIFE XXXV. SHOT THROUGH THE HEART . XXXVI. PINK AND HTS MASTER .... XXXVII. A THIEF IN THE NIGHT . . . XXXVIII. THE HUNCHBACK AND THE IDIOT LAD . XXXIX. WHEN THE TIDE RISES AT TAMWORTH . XL. TRUEST, NOBLEST, DEAREST FRIEND XLI. "Tnou AND I TOGETHER" PACK 268 277 293 300 314 325 341 345 359 367 374 379 386 393 402 405 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE Pamela Congreve Frontispiece "On the strip of polished counter Pam danced on" . 38 " Peering into it over her own fair, bare shoulder " . 96 " He encountered a little maiden all in grey " . . 136 " Out from the great gilt frame stepped Lord Charteris " 242 "Raised it half-way to her lips" 328 ix PAMELA CONGREVE CHAPTER I THE FAIREST FACE IN ALL ENGLAND IT was a fair face that lay in the furrow between the waving corn ; the silken tassels, dew-drip- ping, swept it ; the poppies brushed it with their filmy scarlet ; the winds of the dawn whispered to it ; the paling stars and the paler moon lighted it, while the morning, leaning over the cloudland in the east, touched its pallor into a semblance of rose. A fair face, indeed so fair that one day his most gracious Majesty the King was to cry out in his palace of St. James', " 'Fore Heaven, sirs, this is the most beau- tiful lady in all England ! " And no one could say him nay. She had fallen in a deep furrow, safe sheltered from the gaze of travellers on the highway which wound down from London, thirty miles distant, to Tarn- worth, not a mile away ; safe sheltered from the farm- ers and their boys already up and away to the fields, 4 PAMELA CONGREVE from the maids skurrying to the lowing kine, even from the peering eyes of the waking birds. A rabbit jumped across the furrow and rose on his hind paws to nibble at an ear of corn ; a dragon-fly hummed at her eyelids and hovered at her mouth, of as deep a scarlet as the poppies crushed beneath her slim body in its soaked and dripping garments. Pamela slept such sleep as only the weary can know, carried so far away on its broad, soft wings that when she opened her eyes upon the ripening corn and the swaying poppies, it was with the question, " Where am I ? " upon her lips. Then she felt the sag and cling of her petticoats, and she tasted the salt on her lips, and she remembered all that had gone before; and she turned over with her cheek to the brown earth, and cried out in a low voice in the dawn: " Get away ! get away ! I tell 'ee ! I won't see 'ee ! 'Way ! 'way ! 'Twas a foul deed, 'fore Heaven 'twas, and him not the guilty one. Nay, not him, but an- other, another with smooth tongue, velvet lips, honey speech ! Ah, la ! God A'mighty ! Out o' my sight, I say! Don't ye come a-stretchin' and a-creakin' where Pam can see and hear 'ee no more! Deed's done. Him's buried by this. And, oh, la ! la ! " PAMELA CONGREVE 5 The girl was now upon her knees, hands pressed to her eyes as if to shut out some horrible vision. Shud- dering, sobbing, torn by violent emotion, with face upraised to the sky, she cried : " Mother ! are 'ee yonder som'eres, heh ? Answer Pam ! Was 'ee at the brink a-waitin' for him when the noose sent him swingin'? Aye, 'ee was, if so be 't there's any place yonder at all, 'ee was! 'Ee hear, don't 'ee? Now hearken. I'm out 'n the cave, nor drownded, though tide rose, an' me hidin' there after I quitted him. I got in the boat, and drifted till the sea went down and left me on the dunes. I went runnin' past midnight, till I reached hard by Tarn- worth side; then I gained the highway and a corn- field, and I slipped into a furrow an' slept. It's mornin' hereabouts is't mornin' where 'ee be? An' hearken, Pam's goin' into Tamworth village seekin' work. She's quit the gang and the past for aye. But there's all the whole of 't, with him 'at swung, and him 'at didn't swing, oh, Lord A'migkty! writ out simple in my heart, and there ain't nothin' on earth can ever blot 'em out, never, not even when I learns laughin' once more." As the sun crept up from the horizon, the girl slowly gained the edge of the field, then skirted the 6 PAMELA CONGREVE road under the shadow of the hedge, making for Tamworth village, which she descried by the church steeple with its gilded tip. None were yet stirring in Tamworth, not even in the High Street, at the farther end of which Pam perceived a building standing in a clump of elms. This was the Inn, its sign of the Greene Shippe creak- ing now in the wind as it had creaked for more than a hundred years. As she approached the house, she staggered. Her long fast, the chill of her wet garments, her weary journey afoot, and her anguish of mind, these were having their effect. No wonder that, as she reached the rear door of the building, she sank down in a swoon. Here she was found by the maids as they came out to milk. One of them, who had a soft heart for suf- fering things, got the unconscious stranger indoors to the fire as best she could, chafed her cold hands, and by degrees brought her to herself. " Lord 'a' mercy ! " cried the girl, wringing the salt water from the stranger's skirts. " Wherever have you been ? Shipwrecked, belike ? " " Aye," answered Pamela, too weary to say more. " And where be your friends ? " PAMELA CONGREVE 7 " Dead and gone." " All on 'em lost but you ! 'Twas a fearsome night at sea. Where be ye from ? " " The Sea Islands." " What '11 I call you ? " asked Jess, as she helped Pam to get off the wet rags and into dry garments from her own meagre wardrobe. " My name is Pamela," said the newcomer, now thoroughly warm and grateful. " That's long." " Pam, then." " There ! Ye be dry at least now, but hush a minute ! " Heavy footsteps could be heard in the room above. " The missus is loud-tongued, and rules house and master. None the less, my girl, since our Lisa got married at Michaelmas, and 'tis nigh on fair time, mayhap, if 'ee wants work, I'd speak for 'ee to missus, and get 'ee Lisa's place? " " Would 'ee ? " said Pam eagerly. " Aye. What can 'ee do ? Draw ale and pour strong waters was what Lisa did. Can 'ee? " " Aye," answered the delighted Pam. " I can." " I'll make out as I'm a friend of your cousin's in the Islands, and missus '11 be only too glad to get a willin' one in Lisa's place. Eat a cake? " 8 PAMELA CONGREVE " Thank ye." " A fine sort, ain't it ? " Pam nodded assent as she munched with the appetite which even misery cannot take from youth and health. " Jock, he's our boots, bought me a paper of 'em last week over at Chilton." At the mention of Chilton, Pam let the cake fall to the floor. She stooped to pick it up, while Jess continued, unheeding: " You was at sea, you didn't know? We had a rare sport come Thursday a se'ennight." Pam avoided meeting the eyes of her new friend, trying her best to hide her agitation. " Aye, a hangin' ! " repeated Jess. " Lawk ! but the whole county was to see it, quality and all! A smuggler murdered the coastguard what was sent to catch him ; right yonder," pointing down below the cliffs to the sea, where it swirled between dark masses of rock, " was where the smuggler hid hisself and where he killed the guard. 'Twas a grand sight. Him died game, I tell 'ee. Him was fairish lookin', too, big and swarth, and large eyes, fine and open, like a lord's. 'Tis pity you missed so fine a holi- day ! " " Aye ! " agreed Pam, spreading out her fingers to the fire. PAMELA CONGREVE 9 " I'm off to milkin'. Other wenches are afore me. Will 'ee come and try thy hand ? " " Aye," again repeated Pam, rising. " 'Ee says * aye ' to all things, Pam. 'Ee's got summat in 'ee mind. Say ! " She lowered her voice as she added : " Is't a man ? " " Mayhap," Pam answered, drawing a deep sigh. Whereat Jess gave a- loud guffaw, and the two new friends passed out into the yard. Mistress Dormer of the Greene Shippe was only too glad to secure a .maid so pretty and promising in place of the recently married Lisa, nor was she at all inquisitive as to the history of the newcomer. With a view to putting Pam's beauty to practical use, she brought out a pink frock and a dimity apron, asking Pam to put them on preparatory to instruct- ing her in the duties of a barmaid. " Lawk ! " said Mistress Dormer to her husband. " Oliver, any gentleman as stops here will drink twice as much wine as when Lisa served, and every lout as tarries '11 take his two tobies now to one when Lisa drew. Jess's friend's worth her weight to 'ee and me, man. Come this fair time, we'll beat the Blue Pigeon all into a muddle, with her face over the counter ! " CHAPTER II THE PLAYERS' BOOTH AT TAMWORTH FAIR FAIR time came, and it was as the dame had foreseen ; the whole round of the place had word of a handsome face at the Greene Shippe, and money in the till was the consequence. On the Thursday, Jess got leave that she and Pam should have the afternoon for their fairing ; so, with Jock at their heels, they sped to where the booths swaggered in the wind. Here were fiddles shrieking, drums thumping, fifes scraping, trumpets blowing, bagpipes wheezing; here was Whittington with his immortal cat, the ani- mal kept up to a proper show of enthusiasm by means of a small boy pulling vigorously at its tail behind a curtain. Here was " the whole play of the foul Gunpowder Plot," with a penny pistol doing con- stant duty for the vile explosion. On all sides, in- deed, there was a Babel of confused sound, showmen crying the charms of their conflicting wonders. " The 10 PAMELA CONGREVE 11 merry-go-round, a ha'penny up and down the circle: who rides? who rides? A learned pig that knows the alphabet; a gentleman that eats fire by the yard; a calf with six legs. Here's the elephant that shoots a gun ; a leopard that hath no spots ; the Ark of the size of life, with all the animals by pairs together, and Noah and his family in the garments they wore ; Angels ringing seven bells, floating in the air as by magic; a double prospect of a palace in the Sun; Dives rising out of Hell, besides several figures dancing jigs, sarabands, and minuets to the admira- tion of all. The giant out of Norway that hath per- formed before their gracious Majesties; the merry conceit of Sir John Spendall; the excellent tumbling feats of the French Monsieur ; the wonderful puppets patronised by the Prince and Princess ; cocks fighting day and night ; the destruction of Troy ; a very ex- traordinary foreign cat with two tails ; the exact likeness of Solomon's temple in shellwork ; and Mr. Figg, the greatest of all fighters, against Ann Cowles, ass-driver." Jess volubly told off all these marvels to Pam, who listened quietly, half-dazed by the strange sights. The girl had never seen the like before; she had led the wild, free life of the open seas, the caves, the 12 PAMELA CONGREVE woods, with but infrequent sojourns in country vil- lages. As the music played twenty merry measures in and out her ears, as Jess chattered and giggled in her rustic fashion, Pam's heart beat more quickly. She felt the blood surge up to her throat and sweep over her face; she leaned a little in the flaps of a booth entrance, and bade Jess and Jock go on and leave her there. 'Twas the biggest booth in the fair, with gaudy signs and banners fluttering before it, setting forth what was within: " Temple of Folly, Wisdom, and the Muses, by Mr. Doddington Heathcote (of the Covent Garden). During the time of Tamworth Fair will be acted a diverting Droll called * Belinda, the Gamester's Daughter,' with alternations consisting of Scots bal- lades, tunes, French dancing, never performed here before. The Booth is most commodious for the qual- ity and others; and shall perform every day, begin- ning exactly at two and continuing every hour till eleven at night. Music of the best. Right Lincoln ale. Admission of a shilling to the ordinary." The corner of the great banner touched Pam's shoulder where she stood trembling, lips apart, great, PAMELA CONGREVE 13 splendid eyes dilating, not at all the marvels it set forth, for poor Pam could not read a letter, but at the witching strains of the music. Pam had never heard music before, save the wild sea songs of her kind ; and as water rises to its level, so surely rose her youth and yearning to greet the message the strings and reeds brought her. She clasped her arms across her breast as if to hug to her all the unspeakable joy and mirth of these strains that smote her. She felt herself born anew into some kingdom hitherto unimagined. Illimitable, unfath- omable, magnificent stretched before her fancy some mighty world of which she had her first hint as she stood before the players' booth at Tamworth. No matter what had gone before, this sound call- ing at the very portal of her young heart assured her that there was a future, and that it and she must meet, and make together of life something other than the drudgery it looked to be now. She knew she was outside of it all yet ; the music told her that ; but it told her, too, that she was at the very threshold ; that she had but to knock, and some great personage, some elf would let her in. In her way, Pam was already a poet without words, rhymes, reasons, or any lore of the world or its men. 14 PAMELA CONGREVE She turned, and rapped at the entrance, pulled the flapping canvas to one side, and smiled up at the man who stood there in dusty greatcoat and beaver bon- net. There was such inquiry, such demand for welcome in her face as would have melted a heart of stone; the man was watching two urchins peeping at the side, and only said gruffly, putting out his hand : " A shilling, lass, a shilling." The band stopped suddenly ; and not less suddenly Pam came back to the every-day world. " I've not that," she said wistfully, with a step backward. " Damn ye, then ! What, the devil ! " Mr. Dod- dington Heathcote caught sight of Pam's face, and came to a full pause. Off went his beaver, and he stepped out to her, speaking in a strangely differ- ent voice. " I ask your pardon humbly ; if you'll step inside, no matter as to the shilling. I'm Heath- cote." He drew himself up with dignity; but it was lost on Pam. " Is't your musickers within, sir? " she asked simply. " Yes, the very same that play in Covent Garden before their Royal Highnesses. Enter, I pray you, PAMELA CONGREVE 15 and witness the Droll. Anon they will begin. 'Tis worth a sovereign, I swear." " Will the musickers be at it again? " " That they will," he answered, drawing her inside, and putting her into a seat. " You are sure I'm welcome at your house, sir ? " asked Pam, staring about her, and content when she spied the fiddlers and heard a preparatory scrape. " Most sure," he answered with a bow, leaving her to turn to one of his company, and whisper : " Gad's life, Peter Twiss ! There's a face for ye ! If I quit Tamworth Fair this year lacking that girl to my dramatis personce, call me a knave as well as the fool everybody knows me to be! She'd set the town by the ears. She'd smile and the sun would shine through the worst fog London ever saw; she'd sigh, and, egad! there's not a man of the ton that would not set himself the task of humouring her whim. Zounds, Peter, the luck's mine. Not for naught did I put on my coat wrong side out last night ! " " Nay," quoth Peter composedly, " 'twas only be- cause you were as drunk as a lord! Yet the maid is fair, and hath a something, je ne sals quoi, as the French have it, to her mien. But, sir, a lout doubt- 16 PAMELA CONGREVE less, after all's said and done. I'll wager she knows not her letters yet, and has had more communion with swine than with Terpsichore and Melpomene." But now the band began a tune so delicate, so pleading, and so full of all heavenly sweetness as, indeed, might well cause one to wonder that such a company could evoke it. Heathcote and Peter Twiss looked at Pam. Her eyes danced with a new joy. As the measure quick- ened they saw her little feet beating time beneath her pink kirtle, then her hands moving palm to palm upon her breast, and a sigh as of some pent-up rap- ture bursting softly through her lips. Heathcote from behind bent above her shoulder. " Thou lik'st it, child?" " Oh, sir," whispered she, taking in her sweet un- der lip between her teeth, " 'tis of a surety most beautiful! And this house," gazing around at the tawdry players' booth, inhaling the musty odours of the flopping scenes, the new paint, the dripping can- dles, as 'twere odours from Araby the blest, " this house, it seems to me's the only one I ever entered where I can breathe free, as I breathe at sea and on the sea was once my home." Heathcote, worldling though he was, and mummer PAMELA CONGREVE 17 to the soul, yet still a man, whole-hearted, generous, stood silent for a moment. Then he muttered fervently to Peter at his elbow: " Gad ! the girl's born for the stage. Again, I say, what luck I changed not my coat last night, but kept it wrong side out ! " " You mean, sir," said Peter respectfully, yet with- drawing a pace, " what luck you drank so deep ! " CHAPTER III WHILE THE TIDE SLIPPED OUT WHEN Pam left the players' booth, she had entirely forgotten Jess and Jock; but they had thought of her, and came pushing in by the side entrance at sixpence when they had learned from some other maids and men of her whereabouts. Just as they went in, ushered by Peter, out walked Pam by the other door, Heathcote missing her, to his deep chagrin, as he perforce waited upon quality driving up in their coaches. Yet he consoled himself, for he had learned that she was in service at the Greene Shippe, and thither he proposed to move himself and his company from their present quarters at the Blue Pigeon. Pam came out upon the street just as twilight was misting up the hollows below the village. As she walked along among the jostling throng, shouting, laughing, merry-making the more at each candle and fish-oil lamp that was lighted, she was murmuring to herself : " I be a new lass. I ben't myself no more. I 18 PAMELA CONGREVE 19 walk not on the pave, but on the air; my shoes don't touch earth, but skim it as the gulls skim the sea over against the coasts of the Islands." She turned aside from the gay fair into a green and narrow lane that led down between the cliffs to the dunes and to a pathway to the shore. Presently, it was silent enough where she stood, shading her eyes with her hand and looking off into the dim distance. There came to her the echo of the mountebanks' cries, the screeching of monkeys and parrots, the shouts of the crowd, but not even a hint of the music; this was drowned out by the lungs of the rabble. Yet within her heart the fiddles still played on, the lutes, the viols, and the flutes still twanged; for her all the harmonies of heaven resounded as she went on down between the cliffs, where the castle frowned above, and the sea swirled below. Once at the edge of the waters, free in her gait, and swift as a young deer, she strode along the smooth sand to the great pile of rocks a mile southward, next to Chilton, where the Smugglers' Cave may be seen to this day. The little bay gained, Pam paused at the curve, took off her shoes and stockings, tied them together, slung them over her shoulders, and waded into the shallows. The tide was going out. 20 PAMELA CONGREVE She went as far as the slip of a stream that made an inlet to the cave, by which, at high-water, a small boat could pass in, though there were few that dared the adventure. Pam waded to where the swell and boil began at the neck of the little channel, the sea subsiding every moment, so that already the rocks were out of water. She lay down on them and looked up at the sky; just a star or two gemming the deep arch overhead; a slip of a new-born moon near them ; the drip of the damps at the cave's mouth, the plash of the receding tide at her side. " God A'mighty ! " whispered she. " The sea's fine, and the smell of the salt's strong as meat to a hungry mouth; and the sky's broad and good for a roof; and the rocks is as soft a bed as a maid could wish for when she's tired ; and I loves it all, all ; and I've come out here to speak my thoughts, because 's there's no one else as cares. But I'm takin' oath, do 'ee hear me? 'Ee and mother both somew'eres, where 'ee be? I'm takin' oath never to rest until him as swung is righted, till him as got off free drinks sorrow's cup. Cost what it may, Pam '11 do 't ; she don't know how ; she can't tell, but she'll do 't. Some- thing she's learned to love better 'n sea and sky, and PAMELA CONGREVE 21 man or woman, will help her to it; an' that's the music. What don't it say to a body? There ain't nothin' it don't speak about ; things I knows of ; things I don't. And that house where the musickers live, la ! that's the house for me." And all the while she whispered to herself, babbling brokenly as a babe, flurrying the water with her bare feet, her hands over her head, clasping the dews, and curling her long, dark locks the closer, Pam heard the fiddles calling and entreating at her ears. Lying there in the gathering gloom, with no living thing near her but some few small fishes and a sea- bird skimming to its nest ; listening to the memories of the strings and reeds of Heathcote's orchestra, there came to her soul that one splendid moment that ar- rives for even the most sordid of us some time in our journey the moment when we know we are immortal by the token, not only of the longing that is in us, but by the infinite assurance that crowds away all our fears and follies, and tells us we can be, do, and have all that aspiration bids us crave. Pam, indeed, was not on earth; she was for the space of a second or so in that other place where each one's treasure lies hid, the goal that each one tries for, blindly though it may often be. CHAPTER IV " POSIES ! POSIES ! WILL YE HAVE MY POSIES ? " A midnight, after the last performance was over at the booth, Heathcote and the principal members of his troupe arrived, bag and baggage, in two carters' wagons, at the Inn. " I tell ye, Peter," cried Master Doddington, while Pam and Jess had gone to draw their ale, " I like the fair one, too, wliat d'ye call her? Jess? We need new faces to entice the dandies to the pit, and a brace like these '11 fill the bill." " Damme, sir ! " whispered Peter, his round coun- tenance half hid in his mug, " look you at that girl, Pam. She's got the poise of a Venus and the arms of a nymph, the eyes of a Cleopatra, the smile of a Circe, the " " Hold your tongue ! " cried Heathcote. " None of your cursed interfering compliments. Pam's my find, and, by Heavens ! never saw I lady sitting under crown or coronet to compare with her. Go flatter 22 PAMELA CONGREVE 23 Jess an* you will, Peter Twiss, comedian and heavy father, but not one of your smooth words in the dark girl's ear, d'ye hear? " As he finished this peremptory adjuration, the girls came back, and Jess, released from the watchful eye of Mistress Dormer, began to trip about the brick floor, dusting Peter Twiss with a brush, and puffing at his goodly proportions with the bellows. Others besides the players were there, and Pam, and Moll, and Marian were all kept busy until the small hours. Heathcote and Mistress Meg Kent, his principal woman player, never ceased morning and night, when they were at the Inn, from picturing to Pam and Jess the joys of a mummer's life, the splendid vision of London town. Neither girl was to be quite per- suaded, although now the day had come when, the fair ending, the company of renowned players should start for London in the coach. " Pour away, Jess, one for yourself, lass," said Heathcote, as he leaned over the counter. " Thank 'ee heartily, Master Heathcote," cries she, smacking her lips. " Here's to bright eyes and a good brew ! Say you're going up to London to-night with Meg and 24 PAMELA CONGREVE me and the rest of us ? Hath not fat Peter persuaded you? " Jess dallied with her toby, woman-fashion, and laughed as Meg came in, her arms full of bandboxes, wig-cases, and all the trappings of her art. " Lud ! " cried she, " neither Jess nor Pamela should need more of urging, for you've been at 'em ever since we came here a fortnight ago! For my part, if country hussies want to stop in villages and milk cows when they're invited up to town to become the idols of the ton, why, Doddington, let 'em ! " " He do say," says Jess, " a new face or two is needin' to entice the dandies to the pit and overreach the Italian young ladies what's dancin' at Drury Lane." " He's right. And if you had a grain of sense you'd come, both of ye. Heathcote's a fool to have wasted his time here this fortnight gone, a-teachin' you and t'other one how to dance ; how to curtsey ; how to ogle ; how to languish ; how to swoon ! " And Mistress Meg, laughing fit to kill herself, suited ac- tion of the best to each word and wound up by falling into the extended arms of Peter Twiss, equipped for his journey in a broad beaver hat and a wrap-rascal down to his heels. PAMELA CONGREVE 25 " Say, ye'll come, Jess, girl ! " cries Peter, con- signing Mistress Meg, bonnet and veil awry, to the hair-cloth sofa, and twitching the toby from Jess's hands, the polishing-cloth from where it hung at her apron string. " No more rubbing and scrubbing for thee, lass, if thou'lt come with Master Heathcote's company of strollers ! " And the portly Peter seized Jess about the waist. " Gallants, feasting, clapping ! " cried Heathcote, beating his palms together ; " I'll teach thee all the steps in a twinkle. So, Peter, lead her up, fa! la! la ! la ! " He swung into the time of a country dance as Twiss, clasping the laughing and buxom Jess, footed it nimbly up and down, Heathcote and Meg following suit, merry as kittens. " Say thou'lt go, fairest of women ! " gasped Peter, tossing off his beaver. " I'll go," cried Jess ; " an' Pam goes, there ! " Heathcote stopped short, and dropped Meg where he stood. His face grew pale, and his next words came low and earnestly. " If she joins us, my for- tune's made, and more ! " " Ho ! " cried Meg scornfully. " 'Tis a ninny knows not what way the wind blows when it smites 26 PAMELA CONGREVE him in the face ! Take that, sirrah ! " She dealt him a sounding box on the ear. " And let me tell ye, the whole of Tamworth knows you're over head and heels in love with one that but's a barmaid, and for aught all of you know a gipsy ; no name to her most unchristian cognomen of " " Damn ye, Meg ! " Heathcote flashed out. " Keep a civil tongue in your head, or go find yourself a place in Drury Lane or the Haymarket. I swear Covent Garden won't hold you and me, if you repeat what you said just now of Pamela Congreve." " ' Congreve,' forsooth ! ' Congreve ! ' " echoed the actress, with intonation of superb contempt. " How long since? I'll wager a guinea to a ha'penny, chris- tened on the spot by Master Doddington Heathcote ! Hither, Jess, girl. What's Pamela's other name? Is it Congreve, eh ? " " I know not," returned Jess truthfully, but ready to stand up for her friend. " Belike 'tis as Master Heathcote says. Pam's more apt to have confided in him than in me. Pam's up above me but none the less I love her ! " " Up above you ? " sneers Meg. " What d'ye mean ? How d'ye know ? " A melodramatic whisper came from Peter. PAMELA CONGREVE 27 " Zounds ! Have we a stolen heiress in our midst? " "What d'ye mean, Jess, my lass?" said Heath- cote quietly. " Hist ! " replied Jess, looking about her, finger on lips. " It's a month and more agone now, one morning at dawn, as I comes down, I finds her crouchin' on the doorstep, wet to the skin, white as a candle, heart a-goin' like spent rabbit's. I fed, and warmed, and dried her; put on her some o' my duds ; took her up to my loft, and afterwards made it up to Mistress Dormer as she were a friend of my folk from the Islands. Lawk ! Pam mayn't be qual- ity, but there's summat in her mind as ain't in mine." " Bah ! " cried Meg. " A false lover, most like." " ' Lover ! ' " muttered Heathcote, biting his lips, and instinctively laying his hand on his sword-hilt. " Nay, nay ! but I dare be sworn, if I take her up to London, she'll be the toast of every coffee-house there in less than a twelvemonth ! " " Aye," quoth Peter Twiss, " my Lord Charteris and Mr. Beauclerc would soon set the seal that would send her swimming where the pearls and diamonds lie." " Charteris ! the most damnable rake in England, 28 PAMELA CONGREVE the worst gamester in Christendom! Bracket not those two names, hers and his, together. Hark ! " " Whose voice is that now ? " asked Mistress Meg, inclining an ear, while all eyes turned towards the Inn yard. " It's Pam's," whispered Jess. " Pam's ! " Heathcote repeated, as he darted up to the archway and stood to listen. " Pam's," he said again to himself, " and singing the song I taught her by my fiddle last Sunday." Nearer, sweeter, higher, clearer rose the mirthful freshness of her voice ; in its lilt, hint of the splendid freedom and breadth of the sea, hint of untamable, joyful spirits, hint of the heritage of sorrow; glow of youth and hope, and blessed, blessed ignorance of all a future might hold. " Posies ! Posies ! Will ye have my posies? Spangled with dew drops: As sweet as the spring: Some for the Queen oh! And some for the King! Roses ! Roses ! With a fa-la-la-la-la. Will you have my posies? Some for the scullion And some for the King! " Posies ! Posies ! Violets and roses " PAMELA CONGREVE 29 In came Pam from the yard, a tray of candle- sticks balanced on her head, a pair of snuffers in her hand, with which she beat vigorous time on her tray, a smile of mischief and irrepressible witchery on her lips. Heathcote darted across to her, his own eyes catching fire from hers. Mistress Meg, who was never one-half the jealous hussy she would pretend to be, but generous to the heart, snatched the poker and shovel, and fell into time with Pam's music, while Jess clashed a couple of mugs together, and Peter Twiss, not to be outdone, seized a pair of bandboxes, and, with merry shouts, added his share to the gen- eral hubbub. Even off the boards your stroller can- not forget his vocation ; he never loses his chance to act ; the offer of a situation, or a picture, or a climax is always irresistible to him. Heathcote, with his heart burning up for love of Pam ; Twiss, ingulfed in fat ; Meg, her envy smouldering below the surface, all joined in the tempest of making part and parcel of this accident, wherein each recognised at once an " effective entrance." Pam laughed as she came over to the bar. " By Gad ! " says Heathcote. " Let the King get a peep at those little feet, hear that laugh, and every other lady at Court may go hide her head ! " 30 PAMELA CONGREVE She tossed the snuffers over to him where he stood, and he caught them, with his gaze still upon her face. " Am I an apt scholar, Master Heathcote? Have I the right trip to my tongue with your song as you showed me ? " " Faith, Pam, you've caught the lingo and the air as though you had been at the business all your life!" " Yet have I not, although 'tis in my blood to feel it natural, nor any stranger do I seem to be to all you've taught me," she answered, with sparkling eyes. " Where were you born, Pamela ? " inquired Mis- tress Meg. " In a boat." " And there, mayhap, Pam, you left a lover? Mistress Meg says so," Jess put in curiously. " Aye," cried Meg, " I always stake my money a girl has a lover tucked up her sleeve, if he be not seen tied outside of it." Then she turned, and, catching sight of the strewn bits of her bandboxes, her fallals all scattered, Peter on his hands and knees struggling to collect them, she uttered a piercing shriek, and fell upon the pros- PAMELA CONGREVE 31 trate comedian with her fan, and fists, and tongue as pretty an assortment of oaths as ever came from a pretty mouth, and trundled Master Peter out of the place, repentant, howling, as if he had been the barrel which, in truth, he greatly resembled. CHAPTER V THE DANCING LESSON WHILE Jess joined the jollity and scram- ble, Heathcote found time to whisper to Pam, where she sat on the end of the counter: " Pamela, did you leave a lover yonder over sea ?> " " If I did, sir, I'd like to see him here and now," the girl answered, sobered and setting down her tray beside her. " Behold one that worships you ten times that other's sum, whoe'er he be," said Heathcote, catching at her hand. Half startled, she smiled, with a small pitying sigh, faint precursor of what should come to many another man than Master Heathcote of Co vent Garden. " Pam," he went on, taking her by the wrists, and looking down into her great uplifted, mirthful eyes, " I am no fool to be mocked at. Child, I love thee ! love thee!" PAMELA CONGREVE 33 " Bah, Master Heathcote ! " said she, snatching her hand away, and thwacking her tray and candlesticks until they rang, calling Jess back from the archway, where she had been watching Twiss and Meg. " Up ! Show me again the jig 'ee learned me yesterday, as 'tis danced in your theayter." " Theayter ! theayter ! " shouted Jess, pouring a mug apiece, and waving hers overhead. " That's the tune ! Drink me luck, Pam ; my mind's made up, whatever yours is, to give mistress the slip, and off with Master Heathcote to make my fortune on the boards ! " " Well said ! " Heathcote cried approvingly, as he patted Jess on the shoulder. " 'Tis the straight road to fortune ! " Pam was taken aback. " Be ye in earnest, Jess? " she said, her eyes now round and serious. " Aye, I be. Ask Meg ; here she comes back after drubbing Master Twiss. I told her this noon. Don't dilly-dally." " Pam ! " Heathcote once again prisoned the girl's hand in his. " I swear to make you happy, if you come, if " " Tush, dear duck," now put in Mistress Meg, panting from her exertions, and busily engaged in 34 PAMELA CONGREVE mending and stuffing her bandboxes. " Of course, you'll be happy. Two pound a week and all the spy- glasses in Piccadilly levelled at your face. Nothing to be at but laugh, sing, drink, eat ! " " No thinkin' to do? " asked Pamela, her eyes turned rather on Heathcote than on Meg Kent. " Lud ! " laughed the vivacious actress, " no time for thinking there ! " She pulled at a refractory string; it broke, and she caught a glimpse of Peter slily laughing at her discomfiture in the yard. In a moment she was up and off to belabour him again, and Jess darted after her to see the sport. " Ain't there no time there, Master Heathcote? Be 't as Mistress Meg says ? " The stroller met her eyes and sighed. " Because if it's so, I can't go with 'ee. I must think. I have summat to think on. Whether I can puzzle it out better driftin' wi' 'ee yonder or stoppin' here, I don't know." " Ah, Pam," cried Heathcote. " Wha* matters aught else in life but love ! What have you to puzzle out or think of? S'life, sweetest heart, I'll teach thee to think only of thy Doddington ! " He tried to put his arm about her, when down slipped his fiddle from the counter. Pamela drew away from him. " Pick up your PAMELA CONGREVE 35 fiddle, Master Heathcote. Talk not to me of hearts or love, or any such as that. Nay ! " She caught up the bow from the case, and warded him off with it, laughing, all the seriousness now gone from her wonderful eyes ; they sparkled and danced as if each one prisoned the soul of a glittering elusive elf. Such transitions, from the borderland of tears to the wildest gaiety, were Pam's portion, the vague heri- tage of her first rocking on the ever-changeful sea. " Here ! " She threw him the bow, which he caught dexterously. " Pick out the jig tune, and I will trip the measure, so's I get it perfect while missus tarries in the yard." Heathcote tucked his instrument under his chin, and began. He played an air gay as a flock of thistledown, blown hither and yon by the wind, gay as the first song of a bird in the wooing time of the year, gay as the throb of spring's first rising of the sap in the twig, as the pulse of youth when the adoring glance of a swain knocks at a maid's heart; gay as the waters must be when they reflect a fair face. It was called, " When Phyllis would a-shopping go," and the author of it was Surrey Beauclerc. 36 PAMELA CONGREVE Pamela danced slowly at first, as fitted the time the player gave, with small, grave, studious airs, her apron held out wide betwixt forefingers and thumbs at each side, her curls scarcely bobbing, her cheeks but pinkish, as the inner parts of a shell. " Show me," said she. " Is't so I'll cross? " " Aye," he answered, coming to her, and, as he played, giving her the example of the steps; then back to the table, sitting on its edge, his bow flying faster than at first. In came Jess and Meg to loll upon the counter and fill their tobies over again, while Peter and the rest hovered about the archway. " Lack-a-day, Master Heathcote ! " cried Pam, not knowing any were near but her teacher. " There's sprites in your bow. I feel 'em kickin' in my heels!" Faster sped his bow across the strings, and faster flew the dancer's feet; her demure scholar's mien all gone, her eyes wide, flashing luminous; her apron blown out by her swiftness like wings upon a bird; her curls all loosened, hanging long and floating to her hips ; her cheeks as red as poppies in the sun ; her lips parted, as though to drink in eagerly all the happiness that earth could furnish her. PAMELA CONGREVE 37 Faster flew the bow, as never it had flown before, even when the player was drawing it for the King in his box, and faster flew Pam's pretty little feet. " Great Jove, girl ! " he gasped at last. " Thou'lt not be long at the bottom of the ladder if thou'lt come with me to London. I'll have thee playing Polly Peachum in a twelvemonth." Pam heeded little what he said she scarcely heard the clappings and the bravas of the others as she danced on, Heathcote playing as for his life. She heard the sob of the sea, she smelt the strength of the brine; she heard a voice that knew how to coax, another that was stilled forever; she remembered a kiss on her cheek, and thought of a day when a parting came, and another when she wished she was dead; an oath she had taken, and would keep, rose before her mind ; and all this rosary of her past was strung upon the witching threads of the future that Master Heathcote's bow was weaving for her to the air of " When Phyllis would a-shopping go." Could any fiddle-strings keep this pace up longer and not crack? Pamela was whirling, twirling, like something not human, laughing, too, when the player suddenly stopped, his arms refusing further strain. 38 PAMELA CONGREVE " Born for the stage ! " cried Meg and Peter Twiss at once, clasping each other and taking a few lively steps. "How high's the stage, Master Heathcote?" asked Pamela, shaking back her curls and laughing at his weariness. " I'll show thee ! " His fiddle tucked under his arm, his bow in his teeth, the player swiftly took Pam about the waist, and lifted her up on the counter. " 'Tis as high as that, Pamela, but if it were as tall as Olympus, still would'st thou mount it at a bound!" And on the strip of polished counter Pam danced on, faster, faster, furiously, till this slip of woman- hood, spinning there in the fire's flicker, seemed a dryad springing from the wood, her laughter the mirth of some being other than human, so full were its notes of splendid witchery of merriment, winsome- ness, and careless grace. " Faster, I say ! " she cried, catching her long ring- lets out in either hand, the glow of all the suns that had ever kissed her face glorifying it. " The theayter ! That's the tune," Jess shouted merrily. " The theayter forever ! " " No scrubbin', and rubbin', and servin' there," "On the strip of polished counter Pam danced on.' PAMELA CONGREVE 39 shouts Mistress Kent, seizing the polishing-cloth from Jess's hand and flinging it behind the coun- ter. " No missus a-callin' ! No " Jess stopped abruptly, as the sound of Mistress Dormer's voice from without cut across her gaiety. " William ! John ! James ! Pam ! Jess ! Moll ! Marian ! Oliver ! Oliver, I say ! " Heathcote stopped. Pam jumped from the counter, caught up a broom, and began, mischievous smiles dimpling in the corners of her mouth, to sweep the hearth with commendable diligence. Outside, at a little distance, rose such a clatter and clash of wheels, hoofs, whip-cracks, pretty screams, resounding oaths, barking of dogs, cackle of geese and hens as would have raised the dead. " Hey ! " said Heathcote to Peter, mopping his brow. " What's the racket about ? " "La!" whispered Meg, adjusting her bonnet strings. " Quality arrived in a post-chaise, and a fine gentleman or two for me to ogle, mayhap." She peered out, and jostled against Oliver Dormer com- ing in, sleepy, slow, and lagging, the perfect com- plement of his ambitious wife. " Missus is awake, lasses, perhaps 'ee didn't know 40 PAMELA CONGREVE 't," said he, jerking his thumb toward the courtyard whence the dame now bustled in. " Lazy hussies ! " exclaimed she, pulling in her wake the terrified Moll and Marian. " Pamela, stop makin' that dust ! Jess, light up every candle. Mar- ian, air the best linen; Moll, go tidy your locks. Oliver Dormer! porpoise! call the boys. Jock, pile the logs! What do 'ee mean a-standin' starin' like fuddled sheep at shearin' time ? " The dame bestowed a sound thump upon her spouse, and placed the bel- lows in his hands. " Blow ! I tell 'ee, blow ! A coach full of frightened quality spilled in the ditch at the turn of our lane ! God be praised it was not yet filled in as we promised, or they would 'a' gone straight to the Blue Pigeon. Oliver Dormer, stop blinkin' like an owl at noonday. Out wi' ye to wel- come 'em, all o' ye ! We'll make show of our men and maids, same as Dame Piggot at the Pigeon ! Out, I say ! Pam, to the fore curtsey down to the ground. Jess, drop your eyes when they come." Out they trooped, falling into line with the habit of years of discipline. But Pamela hung back. CHAPTER VI TWO STRINGS HATH LADY BETTY TO HEE BOW ^" ^^HE coach and four swung into Chilton, Sir Thomas Trevor's travelling coach. Inside were his wife, his niece and ward Lady Betty Wyndham, his daughter Kitty, and a brace of serving-women atop, with a couple of gallants, well-mounted, riding at either side the wheels, and the coachman snapping his lash, the guard puffing at his horn, " tra-la-la-la-laa-ee- oo-oo ! " " Charteris, is not this Chilton? " asked Sir Thomas, putting his head out of the window, and looking at the taller of the two horsemen, as hand- some a young nobleman as one might wish to see, were it not for the traces of dissipation graven on his features ; yet in those days such imprints were by no means rare, and the career of Pelham Devereux, Earl of Charteris, had not, save in one or two par- ticulars, differed very much from the customary rout 41 42 PAMELA CONGREVE and royster of any other young gentleman of birth and fortune. The Earl inclined his head, as he slightly indicated the gallows hill, now in view, with the handle of his riding whip. " Oh ! " cried Kitty, shuddering at the cruel sight and shading her eyes with her hand, while the maids gaped and grinned. " What are we doing, coming home this way through Chilton ! 'Tis on account of the gallows that I never ride this way, and have a hundred times instructed all the men not to drive us here." " A shorter route home, fair- Mistress Kitty," called out the gallant at her right, pulling rein a bit to keep the slow pace of the coach up the hill. " A longer one were best, then, and none o' that ! " The girl shivered as she saw the wide arms spread out against the deep blue sky, the noose dangling empty in the breeze, reminder of a hanging not so long ago. "Who swung last yonder?" asked Sir Thomas, again addressing the Earl. " A fellow, let me see, I can't recall his name ; a smuggler, of course. 'Tis with that sort of cattle the seaboard's swarming." " Humph! " ejaculated the baronet. " Taking in PAMELA CONGREVE 43 Hollands, and tea, and cambric from the Dutch, doubtless ? Zounds ! sir, why the devil does the gov- ernment keep up a duty on Bohea of one hundred and nineteen per cent. 'Tis monstrous ! Damnable ! Op- posed to justice! Contrary to all sound principles of legislation ! An impost, sir, calculated to breed smug- glers in every coast town in the kingdom ! I, for one, don't blame the smugglers, nor does many another gentleman, if report speaks true. Herries of More- cambe, 'tis well known, is part owner of a smack that sails by night and always manages to elude the excisemen." " Tut, tut, sir ! " replies Charteris. " 'Twere diffi- cult to credit a gentleman of honour with such prac- tices, howsoever hard put to it for the paying of his gaming debts." Sir Thomas eyed the Earl with attention. " Were you hereabouts when this man," nodding backward at the gibbet, " was caught ? " " Chanced to be quite in the neighbourhood," re- plies the younger, laughing. " 'Twas only three months ago ; a clever rogue, but outwitted at the last ; he was attempting to run his vessel up the bay in a fog, made a miscalculation, slipped her on the sand- bank close by Tamworth ; before the tide rose to get 44 PAMELA CONGREVE her off, up pops a revenue cutter and takes posses- sion ; she was deep loaded with a costly cargo." "How do you know?" inquired the restless old gentleman. " I went down and saw her the next morning. The master had made off, and hid himself in the Smug- gler's Cave, as 'tis called, betwixt Tamworth and Chilton Bay. There Baglers and Boffe, the riding officers, came up with him, but he was not taken be- fore he'd earned the hemp by shooting Boffe through the heart." " Bless my soul," cried Sir Thomas, moving again in his seat, and much discommoding his lady. " For my sake, Sir Thomas," she cried, " pray sit still. Thrice have you discomposed my bonnet since we quitted Coniston Grange, and as for poor Betty's reticule, four times already have your restless boots emptied it of its contents." " Restless, madam ! Zounds ! I give you my word I have not stirred. I must breathe, madam, or make you at once a widow. Restless ! Heyday ! that's a fine word for a gentleman that sits stock-still for hours at a time ! " and Sir Thomas, possibly to emphasise the quietness of his disposition, now bounced about on his cushion, his thin elbows akimbo PAMELA CONGREVE 45 and the hilt of his sword digging playfully into his lady's side. A shriek of pain from her, and another of sympathy from Lady Betty; then smelling-salts, vapours, and tears. Sir Thomas stopped the coach, and mounted up outside, in no pleasant humour, to discipline Kitty. " La ! " smiled Lady Trevor triumphantly. " I knew a few judicious sobs would send your uncle fly- ing atop. Betty, love, I felt I must, since Charteris joined us at the last moment of our leaving the Grange, I must urge you to be discreet." " Discreet ! Would to God, aunt, I had chances to be aught else ! " " Fie, girl, and you sure of being Duchess of Har- lowe. What d'ye mean, Betty ? " " I mean, madam, that Harlowe's like lukewarm water, and not finding me at all the sort of fire to bring him to the boiling point. Aunt, there's no ninny out of the nursery but knows whether a man loves her or not, when she's had two hours of conver- sation with him alone, not a soul to interfere, not even a cat or a bird." Lady Betty now stamped her feet in such a fashion as sent the contents of her reticule once more rolling on the bottom of the coach. She had inherited a touch of her uncle's 46 PAMELA CONGREVE temper; and stooping she gathered up thimble, scis- sors, reels, and needles, and flung them out of the window. " Ugh ! " cried she impetuously. " So would I like to do with whatever lady 'tis that's standing now betwixt Harlowe and me ! " " Betty, I pray you arouse not the curiosity of Charteris and Rawdon." Lady Trevor forcibly stays the arm that is about to toss in the road a laced ker- chief and a bottle of essence. " I care not a rap for one or other of 'em ! " And the fair Betty wrests her arm from her elder, and tearing the cambric to tatters, she sends it and the musk a-flying. " What's Charteris to me ? Answer me that if you can ! " Her beautiful black eyes blazed and the red of her cheek was aflame, yet there were tears on her lashes and a quiver at the curve of her mouth. " That can I not, Betty, or will not, for Char- teris' repute is too ill for me to harbour a thought concerning him." " Is it so ? " cried the girl in a fury. " What worse is my Lord Charteris' reputation than that of any other young blood? Does he spend his nights at the gaming table? Who does not? Does he fre- PAMELA CONGREVE 47 quent Drury Lane, the Haymarket, and Covent Garden, ogling the odious player women? What fine gentleman does not? Did he owe debts incal- culable, had he fought duels innumerable, did he drink immeasurably, yet I love him ! " " Betty ! " Lady Trevor shook her head so fiercely that all the vast structure of her coiffure trembled in perilous fashion. " How is it, then, girl, you prattle of Har- lowe?" "Harlowe! Aunt, were you ever young? Did you ever know what love is? But nay since you wedded with my Uncle Thomas, how could you ! " " Hussy ! " exclaimed the indignant matron. " Me not know what love is, and half the gentlemen of our county at my feet, and Sir Thomas Trevor, a fine handsome buck, the envy of 'em all when he got me!" " Well, well, aunt, I suppose so." " Suppose, indeed ! And well you may ! Now confess to me at once, miss, why you encourage Harlowe all that you can, and yet say your heart belongs to Charteris ? " " Aunt ! You force me to ask, are you a woman ? Why does a lady smile upon a man she does not love, 48 PAMELA CONGREVE save it be to whet the lagging purpose of one she does?" " Oh ! Yet, niece, beware. Harlowe can make you a duchess. Your uncle's heart is set upon the match, and Charteris he never favoured." " My heart is otherwise disposed, and that makes the whole difference. I will but cry ' on ' to Harlowe so that Charteris hearing, seeing, may come to yearn for me, if but to rob his rival of the prize. There's no love spilled between those two, I swear. Could I but see them fighting for my sake in Hyde Park, then would I be content." " Have a care, Betty. If I have eyes, neither of these gentlemen is mad for love of you, handsome as you are. Be prudent, niece; prudence has made more matches than precipitation, especially when the swain's not overfond in his pursuing. Act so you lose not both gallants in your frenzy to obtain the worser of the pair." " Damnation ! as my Uncle Thomas says ! " cried Lady Betty recklessly. " Madam, I could with a good will throw you out into the ditch after my essences. I could " What further she could have done was lost to pos- terity forever by the sudden and fearful lunge of the PAMELA CONGREVE 49 leaders ; her own speech merged into a shriek of ter- ror parallelled, nay, completely outdone by similar sounds from Lady Trevor, Kitty, and the serving- women. Over went the coach, rocking on its springs, into the deep ditch where the highroad crossed the lane leading down to the Greene Shippe. Such a plunging and capering of horse-legs up in the air, such leaping of gentlemen and postilions from their saddles, such outcries, such gathering of village folk and children had never been seen or heard in that peaceful spot before. Presently Sir Thomas crawled out from between the wheels, wig in hand, sword bent, covered with mud from head to foot. With cane uplifted he swore roundly at everyone within hearing, while frightened servants tried in vain to carry out his twenty different orders at once. His lady was hauled out, breathless, from amid the debris, Lady Betty pulled from under cushions by Charteris, and Kitty, all agog for adventure, like any other wholesome sixteen-year-old, unhurt, and happy, picked herself up, while poor Lord Rawdon, of all the company, alone lay prone, his white face upturned to the sky, his arm broken, in the hands of the village surgeon. Lady Trevor, when her headdress had been hastily 50 PAMELA CONGREVE adjusted by her woman, at once took her spouse by the ear and marshalled him, as the ladies of such blus- tering husbands are apt to do on momentous occa- sions. " Jock or Jenny," she called to the country louts gaping about, " half a crown to the one that shows the shortest path to the nearest inn." " The Blue Pigeon, my lady, 'tis the best ; nighest too ! " shouts Dame Piggot's oldest boy, keen for custom. " Out wi' 'ee for a liar ! " retorts Jock, boots at the Greene Shippe, cuffing his rival smartly, and bob- bing reverently before her ladyship. " Well 'ee knows Greene Shippe's hard by and best i' the county. This way, my lady, 'taint no more 'n a step." So the procession started. Lady Betty lingered a moment, waiting for an offer of escort from her handsome cavalier. But Lord Charteris, smiling to himself behind her back, called out : " Await us not, Lady Betty, I pray you. I shall tarry here a space with poor Rawdon until the fellows can bring a litter. I'll join you surely for supper at the famous Greene Shippe." Betty bit her lip and followed the rest poutingly. The by-play had not been lost upon her aunt,, for PAMELA CONGREVE 51 all the confusion of the moment. " Now you see," said she, " how Charteris flouts you, to remain beside one of his own sex ! Lud, Betty ! if you've a proper spirit ! " " By George himself ! as my Uncle Thomas says, if I haven't, then shut me up in a nunnery over in France. Bring me your Duke hither and I'll marry him out of hand, nor ever stand aside for Pelham to ignore me again, so long as I live." " Spoke with some sense," replied the aunt. " Marriage is the properest sort of a rite for any young lady of ton to engage herself withal. As to love and all such fiddlc-de-dee, 'tis not to be named in the same breath with matrimony ! " " A pack of fools ! A battalion of clodhoppers ! A company of infernal idiots ! What d'ye mean by leading a gentleman of my years over an accursed path like this ! " cried Sir Thomas, now released from his lady's hold, as he stumbled amid the many pit- falls of the lane. " Aye," Betty answered her aunt with a sly glance at her uncle, " of a certainty 'twould seem love and marriage are not always mates." " Listen, Betty," added the older woman in a low voice. " As we learned this morning, ere we em- 52 PAMELA CONGREVE barked on this ill-starred journey, his Grace is at some lodge hereabouts for the shooting. Heaven grant he hears of our accident and comes to condole with us. Then's your chance. Bring him to the point, girl, and make yourself a duchess ! " With which commendable adjuration the cortege, led by Jock the boots upholding Sir Thomas, entered the Inn yard and was received by Mistress Dormer with her lowest curtsey, Oliver, the men, the maids, the parrot, cats, and dogs, forming a group of supporters around her. CHAPTER VII " PELHAM " BUT Pamela drew further into the shadow of the taproom corner by the counter, her gaze riveted on the wide arch which opened into the parlours and to the one beyond giving upon the yard. She saw Lady Trevor, irate and stiff, attended by her woman; Kitty sparkling with delight and fun ; Lady Betty supported by her Abi- gail, a bottle of smelling salts to her upper lip; grooms fetching boxes and parcels; the indignant Sir Thomas bringing up the rear, beating the brick pavement with his cane, while Dame Dormer, Oliver, and the rest were all assisting with many bobs, curt- sies, and obsequious grins. At the further corner of the taproom, just out- side the window, stood Doddington Heathcote, his eyes upon Pamela, motioning her, " Come outside to the stables and finish the lesson in dancing." 53 54 PAMELA CONGREVE Finger on her lip, she nodded back to him. " Aye, when I've taken peep at the quality." For Pamela had never seen quality before save one man ; and it was her instinct to search any com- pany of gentlefolk now, to see if that one might not be among them. She watched with a curious interest, as Lady Betty's woman fanned her handsome young mistress and plied her with restoratives; watched Lady Trevor's scornful mien, Kitty's wide, mirthful eyes; lent ears to Sir Thomas as he spoke : " A pretty devil of a spill, landlord. Damnation ! Here's my lady frightened out of her wits ; my niece Lady Betty in a swoon ; my daughter " Kitty ran across and clapped her hands over his lips. " Your daughter, sir, as bright as a new shil- ling, and only put into a sulk because 'twas an ugly ditch pitched us out and not an enchanting high- wjayman." " We humbly ask your lordship's and their lady- ships' pardon for having such a ditch," exclaimed Oliver, reminded of his duty by a smart rap from his dame. Then she pushed him outside and took com- mand of the situation herself. " If your ladyships will have refreshments and a PAMELA CONGREVE 55 night's rest, I'm sure the Greene Shippe '11 feel too highly honoured. Marian, Moll, Jess, light the fires in the best chambers ! Carry up the hot water ! Lay the cloth. Go ! go ! " and out flocked the maids to do her bidding. A whisper from Lady Trevor recalled Lady Betty from her swoon. " Betty, you look a fright ; if Charteris enter to find you thus awry, 'twere an ill thing. Leave swooning and tantrums, I beg ! They only become a maid that hath a sweeter disposition than you to offset 'em." Her ladyship revived with surprising quickness. " Pray have plenty of candles set, and all the mirrors there are in the house," was her command. " Have no fears, my lady. Everything shall be to your ladyship's liking," and Dame Dormer bustled away, voice uplifted to be heard, as she would have chosen, as far as the Blue Pigeon. Lady Betty now glanced about languidly, took up her crystal bottle, and held it to her nose. Pam, an elf in each dark-blue eye, tucked the fiddle under her arm and picked up a toby from the coun- ter behind which she sheltered. " Whatever shall I do without my other women to wait upon me," sighed her ladyship. 56 PAMELA CONGREVE Up went the toby to the tip of Pam's pretty little nose, in such exact imitation of Lady Betty as caused Master Heathcote, still watching at the win- dow, nearly to explode with suppressed laughter. " Whatever shall I do without my other women ? " whispered the mimic, with so delicious an effrontery of counterfeit, so perfect a languish and drawl as gave the manager double joy, relating both to his art and to his passion. With little mincing steps, Pamela had reached Heathcote, her mouth pursed up like a rosebud on the eve of blowing. He leaned in, drew her nearer to sit on the sill, dimpling into a silent laughter to match Heathcote's own, as, her head turned to watch Lady Betty, she still preserved the mien of a lady of ton distraught with ennui. Heathcote could no longer control himself, so he stooped and lifted Pamela out into the yard through the. window, the toby crashing on the bricks, the fiddle caught in his ruffles. Out raced the mischievous pair to the stables, with nothing but youth and spirits to guide. Meantime Kitty took off her cousin's bonnet and laid it on the table. " Take heart, coz, 'I'll be your second Abigail. PAMELA CONGREVE 57 Be merry, lack-a-day ! 'Tis an adventure full of sport ! If Sir Toby were but here," Kitty's eyes shot a glance at her father as she spoke, " I'd lack nothing to my entire happiness." " Sir Toby, forsooth ! Milksop, scare-bird ! 'f raid of a shadow ! " cried Sir Thomas, at a significant nod from his wife. " You'll wed Lord Rawdon or you'll die a maid d'ye hear? " And he pinched Kitty's little pink ear to emphasise his authority. " Aye, dad, but I'll not heed ! " answers the minx. " I'll not marry Rawdon, I swear." " Kitty, be not thus vixenish, I entreat," im- plored her mother. " Damnation ! " shouted Sir Thomas, " you are my daughter, I believe, girl, and you'll do as I say ! You've been taking lessons from your cousin Betty here. 'Tis ' I will ' and ' I won't ' with both of ye. Baggages! As sure as my name's Sir Thomas Trevor, ye'll both wed to please me. As for you, miss," poor Kitty's other ear now received a tweak, " off with you to your chamber, supperless. Ye need no meat to feed your disobedience." " Nor my love," responded his daughter, " for Sir To by ! " edging toward the door, laughing. 58 PAMELA CONGREVE " Good-night, sir, madam, sweet coz. All fine dreams attend ye. Mine '11 be of Toby ! " And out flounced Mistress Kitty, just in time to elude a stroke of her father's cane. " Vicious little filly ! " he shouted. " She shall be broke to my harness and to the gait I teach her. My lady, and my niece, I leave you to go inquire how fares the injured future husband of our daughter." Off went Sir Thomas, his cane thumping the floor, upsetting most things in his path, including a pan of milk, a pair of cats, and a jug of mead. " You see your uncle's mind's made up for Har- lowe." " Prithee, aunt, when I am of a humour for Char- teris, twit me not with t'other." " Well, well, niece, look you, you're past six-and- twenty, a perilous age to be still unwedded. An' I see not Charteris hasting to your side, as methinks, after this fright, he should do, if it had spurred him to caress your spirits into a recovery, 'tis your part to encourage the Duke at the first chance." " Aunt that I should be compelled by marriage to call you so ! You are driving me into such a pretty frenzy as I promise you will far outdo the temper you worked me to at Easter-tide, when, as you know, PAMELA CONGREVE 59 I smashed your best Chinese tea movables into ten thousand bits ! " Lady Betty was now pacing up and down the room, beating the air with her fan and slashing the table with her bonnet, held by its ribbons. " Tell me why 'tis when once a lady hath secured a husband she rests not until she has persuaded, de- rided, twitted every other into a like environment? Tell me that? Is it because you've found the married state so deep a hell you'd like to have com- pany in perdition? Or why then is it the custom for every ill-mated wife, who rends the air with plaints of wretchedness, still in her cooler hours to counsel un- suspecting virginity, ' Go find a husband ' ? Tell me that." "Tut, tut, Betty!" her aunt said soberly. "I would see you well married because I love you." " What's ' well married,' eh ? Mince it not, aunt. 'Tis married to the man you elect, not the one I choose. Once for all, I'll not wed your Duke till there's no hope that I may be Pelham's wife. Madam, an' I'm six-and-twenty, I'll have my way nor bow to yours or my uncle's. So ! " " I would remind you, Betty, choler's not the most becoming goad to your complexion," Lady Trevor 60 PAMELA CONGREVE put in, with that dexterity at unpleasant speeches not uncommon in her sex. " I'll trounce myself into twenty tempers if I like, Madam Aunt ! By George ! as my uncle says, if I'm so choleric I'll ring for wine to cool it." And she gave such a pull at the rope as set the echoes going. Pamela came rushing from the stables, guiltily tying up her apron strings, throwing back her curls and pinning them in place. " Wine, wench, wine, any sort ! " cried Lady Betty, not even turning of her head. " Nay, not any sort," Lady Trevor interrupted. " Your best, if you have any that is good." " Aye, my lady, we have." Pamela crossed behind the counter and mounted the ladder, searching for the jug. Lady Trevor pursued her counsels placidly : " 'Tis commendable, Betty, that you have a spirit. I blame you not. In married life 'tis she who possesses it that obtains her will; for when no other course is open for routing of one's lord, a noise at the least will often do it. I've had to use my spirit, and my tongue, with your Uncle Thomas ! " " Oh, aunt," cries the girl, unheeding Pamela up on her ladder, and on the verge of a flood of tears, PAMELA CONGREVE 61 " if I gain not him I crave, then go buy me a shroud." Lady Trevor laid her hand on Betty's shoulder as she stood behind the sofa on which the young lady sat. " If he cries off to you, throw him steel for steel and sing out, * Touch me not ! ' That's the way to bring men to their senses." Pamela, up on the ladder, having found the jug, set it on the top step while she looped up her tresses more tidily, her large eager eyes taking in with a child's fresh pleasure the pretty fallals and gewgaws belonging to the quality, that lay about the room. " It may do with some," answered Lady Betty, " but not with Pelham." She shook her head mourn- fully, relapsing into quiescence after the violence of her tirade. Pamela stopped short on the ladder. " Pelham ! " she echoed under her breath, while her small white teeth fastened on her full red under lip. Then she came down the ladder, crossed to the table with the wine and glasses, and poured them full, her small hand shaking a little as she did so, un- marked by the guests. She crossed back into the tap- 62 PAMELA CONGREVE room, went behind the counter, and sat down on the lowest rung of the ladder. There was a tumult in her brain : the name she had heard was one familiar to her, but was it not possible that twenty, nay a thousand, men might bear it? She sat very still, not so much to listen as to think. The name she had heard put to flight, at least for the moment, all her sweet elfish jubilance and stilled her pulses into a curious calm. Lady Betty at last set down her glass with a clang. " It chokes me, aunt ! I swear I can drink no more. I am of that humour, now, that naught will appease me save Pelham's smiles." Her ladyship snatched at her glass again, however, and drained it. " To win him ! " The lip of the girl on the ladder curled, as she thought to herself: " 'Tis women must be won, my lady, and 'tis men's place to follow, and be keen after them. Leastways, so I learned. But I knows naught of quality." " To win him " Lady Betty kicked the ashes on the hearth " I'd give my soul. Oh, that for one brief hour I knew how to lure him ! He has a magic in his glance that, when I'm of this pent-up mood, PAMELA CONGREVE 63 melts my highest spirits. Bah, why should I tarry? I'll go find him ! " " Betty," said the older woman, " pray do nothing rash." " Tut, aunt, look you, what seems rash at sixty- two is naught but natural and proper at six-and- twenty. Nay, think not to keep me. Let me go ! " And out went she, her head tossed defiantly in the air. Pamela did not move. She saw Lady Betty go out; she saw Sir Thomas now come in, calling for his cane at the top of his voice. Spying her out, with those quick eyes age sometimes has, he cried: " Wench, go fetch me my cane. I left it above. Go!" " I'm a-goin', sir," answers Pamela, curtseying respectfully. " What for, Sir Thomas? " asked his lady. " I'm on my way to supper. Surely 'tis served by this." " Stand still," exclaims the baronet with a vigor- ous stamp of his foot. " Listen to me. Harlowe's not far off, for the season's sport, 'tis said. The game's neither buck or rabbits, I do mistrust me, but that fair deer, my niece Betty. I command your 64 PAMELA CONGREVE ladyship to see to it that she smiles on him, if he comes here for refreshment ; as I've seen to it he shall, by sending my own man on a horse to encounter him, as if by chance, and acquaint him with our acci- dent and proximity ! " " And women, 'tis said, carry the palm for artful- ness ! La ! but it takes a man to manoeuvre ! Yet I fear me you'll but prove the fool for your pains, Sir Thomas. Betty's of that mood to flout the crown of England, if it were offered her. One of her tan- trums hath her in its hold and her heart's set on Char- teris." " Bah ! Charteris wants naught of her, save to borrow money from the Jews on the promise of a marriage with her, then, when he's flung it all away at cards, to jilt her. That's the tune Charteris would play for her to dance to but 'tis my duty to thwart him, and I will. She shall wed his Grace of Harlowe. Have a care, my lady, shake not your head; 'tis our own interests must be looked after. The house we live in is his, as you know but that which you now learn for the first time is that I am full three years in arrears for the rental." " What of it ? I'm not sorry to learn we're quite in the fashion, for I lately learned from Mr. Beau- PAMELA CONGREVE 65 clerc at the Grange, 'twere as well be out of the world as out of debt. Why, Sir Thomas, his Gra- cious Majesty himself owes thousands ! " "Madam, madam, are you a fool?" " Aye, sir, I take it that I must be since I married you." " Damnation ! to stand babbling here, with Betty unprepared and Harlowe like to appear at any mo- ment. It takes a woman and one's wife to play the idiot." Lady Trevor curtseyed low. " I am obliged to you, sir, for your civility. It reminds me of the days when you were courting me and swore " " I swear now ! Lady Trevor, go you to my niece Betty and show her that the path of prudence lies toward a ducal coronet and from any such gamester and intriguer as Charteris." Sir Thomas at this point raised his right arm, thinking his cane was in his hand, and Pamela, entering with it, at the moment slipped it into his grasp without a word, then crossed to her counter, mugs, and jugs. " Off with ye, madam ! " now cried Sir Thomas, thwacking the chimney-piece with his stick. " I go," replied his lady in the doorway, " but if I 66 PAMELA CONGREVE had my way, I'd alter the marriage service to my liking and there'd be no obey in it for us ! " " The devil ! " exclaimed the testy baronet, gazing astonished at his cane. " I could have taken oath I left this for a warning up at Kitty's door, but I must have brought it down. To supper! To supper, I say ! " and Sir Thomas moved towards the dining- room, whence presently arose goodly odours, and much clatter of dishes, to tell that the Greene Shippe had done its best. CHAPTER VIH " I HA* DONE A MURDER " PAMELA, not being called to serve, stood for a moment looking down, and then she raised her eyes, saw the place in disorder, and set about tidying it mechanically, fetching the broom and sweeping the hearth. On her way over to the cupboard, she spied one of Lady Betty's feathers on the floor, wrenched from its nodding place by her ladyship's late fit of rage. Pam picked it up and with those small pink-tipped pretty fingers of hers, loving luxury well, she stroked the plume as she spoke. " She called him ' Pelham ' and she said he'd magic in his looks as 'ud melt any spirit! That's true of him I call Pelham too. An' he won't court her, handsome as she is ; and he's nigh, nigh ! " The girl shivered. Sticking the long plume thought- lessly in the thick twist of her hair, she crouched be- fore the fire. A deep and piteous sob burst from her 67 68 PAMELA CONGREVE lips. " Nigh, nigh ! " she repeated, and her face was torn with the conflicting emotions of her young soul. Pamela loved love. Love is a woman's first love almost always, not the man, save as he is the vehicle for love's expression. It may be almost any man ; careless, ignorant of his real nature, she dowers him who first loves her with all the attributes of all the gods she has ever heard of, and portions out to him, miserable creature as he sometimes is, a nobility which makes those who listen to her praises smile. It is last love that is love's own; it is not blind but sees all the imperfections, and a woman holds the man she loves more dear for them, so that he comes to her for shriving. And the warfare in Pamela's soul was the struggle between this love of love and the oath she had taken the evening she lay down on the wet rocks near the sea. " La, la, God A'mighty, I want to speak it all out," she moaned. " I want to tell someone. If my mother was here beside o' me, I'd lay my head down next her heart and make her know how some- thing shakes in me at the mention of his name, and how I hate him ! and yet and yet Mother, do 'ee PAMELA CONGREVE 69 hear me? If 'ee do, and can ask favours of the Lord, beg him to keep Pelham from crossing my path ever again, until long time hence, when I'll be readier than I am now. Aye, get on your knees to the Lord, mother, and ask him ! " She crouched nearer to the fire, now taking up the bellows and blowing until the flames leaped up out of the logs and painted all her fair face crimson, Lady Betty's feather still dangling, forgotten, in her curls. Then Lord Charteris entered the Inn yard, quickly crossed it, and came glancing in toward the parlour. When Pamela heard his step, her lips parted, her eyes dilated. Then he spoke, without seeing her. " Where are they all?" Her small bosom rose and fell. " Nobody about ? " he pursued, taking a step into the room. " I am," says she, very low, her hands falling list- lessly at her sides, letting the bellows drop on the hearth. " The devil you are ! " exclaims the Earl, annoyed for the moment, as might plainly be perceived by the . indrawing of his lower lip, the tightening of his hand 70 PAMELA CONGREVE amid the ruffles at his breast. Then easy, non- chalant, debonair, he came over and continued: " Pam, lass, who'd ever have dreamed of finding you here ! At service? " She nodded her head. " A good place? " Again she nodded. Something in her attitude forbade his quitting her, much as he wished to. Gentlemen of his calibre are not prone to embrace disagreeable meetings with too much effusion, but there was a compelling power about Pamela which this man had nothing in him to meet save his own love for her, and that other thing which, for the nonce, quite outweighed his passion, an empty pocket and forty thousand pounds' worth of gaming debts. " How has the world treated you since we last met, eh ? " he inquired, sitting on the edge of the table and flicking his boot with his whip handle. " Where has 'ee been since last hour we spent to- gether? " asks she, now rising and turning to him, confrontingly, the tremor gone from her lip and her hands, her breathing quiet. It was as if she had slipped leash over her yearning and stood up there to maintain and fulfil a vow. PAMELA CONGREVE 71 " Come, come, Pam, be sensible," he answered, rather airily. " Come now ! " She made a motion nearer him : there was that lure in his tone that women like; that soft, protective, possessive something that at times, on the lips of a blackguard even, tempts the truest of her sex. " 'Ee knows Pam's wont to go whenever 'ee says come." He put out his arms, and his black eyes softened as they rested upon her. It was but a moment ; yet in that moment Pam be- lieved her mother in heaven was prevailing with the Lord, and, rough as was her creed, it stood her in good stead. Her own arms, but now extended, fell at her sides. She laughed in the man's face. " Does 'ee think Pam's same as she used to be afore that day? No, no! 'Ee's a coward, 'ee is." " Bah, Pamela ! Listen. Would you rather have seen me dead than " Charteris jumped from the table, his blood afire, and came nearer to her. " Than here near you so near that I can bid you listen to my heart beating for you, Pam ? " She shook her head scornfully: through her mind 72 PAMELA CONOR EVE ran the thought, " La, but mother's prayin' hard, hard." " I ain't listenin' to thy heart now ; but 'ee's got to listen to me. Aye. If 'ee don't right the one 'ee's wronged ! " There were tears in her eyes now, and she halted. " What then? " he inquired, his voice harsh and his eyes sobering. " I'll tell it all," she answered desperately. " Who'd believe you ? " he gave back to her with a smile. " Look here, Pam, listen to reason." Lord Charteris, like a fair proportion of his sex, had the fixed idea that money spelled reason with the ma- jority of the Fair; he took out his purse, while the girl eyed it and him curiously. " Here's money, now go you up to London : get learning, how to read and write and cipher ; ribbons and fallals will not be want- ing yonder; and hark, you and I'll meet in town. I'll seek you out when you're in a sensibler humour. Tarry not here, but out of this neighbourhood as soon as you can go. 'Tis too near to Chilton. Here ! " He tendered the purse. " Does 'ee fancy I has a scales with my heart one side of 't and gold t'other? Keep your guineas for the beggars. I ain't one of 'em yet." PAMELA CONGREVE 73 He played his last card. He stooped to kiss her. She sprang away away, although the tempta- tion was unmistakable and she but a child yet, as the ways of the world go. " No? " he asked gently. " Ah, Pam ! " " No," she answered. " Save your kisses for the lady of quality you're a-courting," and Pam plucked Lady Betty's feather from her hair and swept it across her face, mimicking her ladyship to the life. " What do you know of her? " cried Charteris, amused at the counterfeit as well as staggered by the announcement. "What do you mean? What are you talking about, Pam? " " I mean," said she, now catching at the methods she found within her grasp, all her outraged soul quivering in her voice, " I mean 'ee says if I tell folk the truth no one '11 believe me, but if I tells the young lady how you courted me, what then ? " " Zounds, Pam ! Don't be a fool, girl. I care nothing for that young lady; her fortune may be necessary to me that's all." " 'Ee'll marry her? " " Fancy I shall have to you know what my losses 74 PAMELA CONGREVE have been yonder," he jerked his head in the direction of the sea. " 'Ee shan't ! " she cried fiercely. "What!" he ejaculated with a laugh*. "How could you prevent it ? " " By tellin' her as you don't care for her, and how long you've been a-going wi' me ! " Lord Charteris laughed again, but at the same time his lips tightened and he seized Pamela by the wrists. " Don't 'ee touch me ! " she cried, shuddering as she shook herself free of him. " Never let that right hand o' thine meet my flesh again. Don't 'ee know why I'm goin' to tell her 'ee doesn't love her? Don't 'ee know why I'm bound to make 'ee suffer if I can? God A'mighty! I'd make 'ee swing and pull the noose tight about yer neck, if I could. 'Ee shall suffer, 'ee shall, as 'ee's made another suffer, an' more, if Pam can fetch it ! " " You don't dare," said he, almost tremulously. " Don't I? " she cried, snatching at the pink feather again, and striking him full in the face. " I dare anything." " I'll tell them who you are, and they '11 kick you out." PAMELA CONGREVE 75 " Do it ! " she flung back at him. " But before 'ee gets the chance, I'll to her ladyship, and have ray say." She darted across to the door, Charteris after her to bar her way. " Para, off with you, silent, or I swear I'll have you put in jail." "And when I gets out o' jail, won't my legs be left me to walk to Land's End, if need be, an' find her and tell her, then ? " "By Gad, I'll choke you!" They were standing now, face to face, before the closed door near the chimney-place. " Try it ! " she answered ; but he did not touch her yet ; the light in her eyes was still too much for him. " Look here," he said, reaching out his left hand to the old oak wainscot on the wall, and feeling cau- tiously along its polished surface; then, finding what he sought, he pressed hard, put his knee to the wood, and the panel slid back, creaking in its groove. A gust of foul, damp air rushed out in the girl's face, for he touched her now, and dragged her with all his strength to the gloomy opening. . " If you don't promise me to hold your tongue," 76 PAMELA CONGREVE he muttered, " I'll thrust you in ! 'Tis a secret pas- sage to the cave, full of windings, maybe of death. Your father knew it, 'twas he showed it to me. Will you promise? " " No ! " she screamed, with a spring away from him, overcoming his brief mastery. " Then I'll kill you ! " cried Charteris, beside him- self, as he let the panel fly back in its place. Out came the dagger which he had learned to carry from long comradeship with those who did so, and flashed for a moment above her. With her lithe and supple strength Pamela half wrenched it from him, so that both their hands were locked upon the hilt. He tried to turn it on her, all the brute in him uppermost when opposed. She, with her youth and purpose at her bidding, every ounce of her blood pulsating for the mastery, had but one thought of venge- ance on the man she had loved. At last, with a groan of exhaustion, Charteris suc- cumbed. The girl tightened her grasp upon the weapon, and turned it on her foe. He staggered, reeled, fell upon the sofa. " Devil ! " he gasped, as he sank down, face upturned. " Nay, no devil ! " she answered under breath, " only a woman as loved a man and believed in him." PAMELA CONGREVE 77 Charteris gasped. His face turned grey, and his hands fell limply at his side. " La, God A'mighty ! " she cried, the dagger in her hand. " He's dead, dead too." For a second there was physical triumph in her aspect ; then she remembered the dagger, and flung it beneath the couch. " I'm glad, I am ! Now he knows what 'tis to have life took from him, too." Then she looked around, and thought of things and people. " What '11 I do? Where '11 I go? What '11 I say when any- one comes ? " At that instant someone came. It was Lady Betty's other suitor, the Duke of Harlowe, who en- tered the yard. " Hey ! " cried he gaily. " Who's about? " Per- ceiving Charteris' coat in the window-sill, he touched it, and made to enter the parlour. But the figure of the girl whom he saw standing there near the couch, her back to him, made him halt. There is a spiritual essence about such women that moulds men to their will, and even makes then enam- oured of the thraldom. " Is the gentleman to whom this coat belongs here ? " he asked. 78 PAMELA CONGREVE " I don't see him? do you? " " Nay, and I'd rather see you, my lass ! " an- swered the Duke, while she trembled, lest he should approach. " Keep your distance," she replied. " I'm sick o' men." " Then I would be a boy again for your sweet sake," and he laughed with pleasure. " What's your name ? " he pursued. " None of your affairs." " I like your wit. Your tongue's sweet sauced to suit me. Let me have one glimpse of your face." He advanced a step only, still unconsciously meeting her will. She stood still, but reached for the broom leaning against the table, and with it caught the cloak from the sill, and cast it deftly over the prostrate form. " Look you, master stranger," said Pam. " The man underneath this cloak's 'twixt me and any other that breathes forever more. Get you away, quick." " Oho ! " laughs he. " That's the way the land lies, is it ? Fare you well, then, my girl ! I'll always wish I'd seen your face, though, for you've the shoulders of a duchess and a voice as soft as silk." And the PAMELA CONGREVE 79 Duke of Harlowe made off to find his friends in the dining-room. For a second, until his footfalls were lost, Pam stood still. " I'll go," she whispered. " I'll run down to the sea, and throw myself in and end it all. Nay, I can't. I'll tarry. I ha' done a murder. I'll bide the judg- ment no matter if 'twas him as provoked me, I'll bide." Her fingers clung to the back of a wooden chair. " They'll catch me here, and try me, and hang me." She spoke with a panting rush, and shrank as she spoke. " The gibbet ! Oh, God, no ! No, I cannot bide ! " She cowered like a hunted creature beside the chair. When Meg, tiptoeing, came into the yard, she beheld Pamela, and fell to laughing, choking it back as she pulled Doddington across and pointed in. "Look, will ye? Pam's a-praying!" " I ain't," she cried, springing up. " I dropped my brooch," and she pinned her kerchief closer about her as she turned, running up to the two at the arch. *' I'm a-goin' with ye now, right off." " Joy ! " cries Meg. " Now's the time for you 80 PAMELA CONGREVE to escape. Three gallants more came, but now, in a private room upstairs, more's the pity! Mistress Dormer has no eyes for any but her guests. I'll run and tell Jess," and the volatile stroller capered off to the yard. " You're going with me, Pam? " whispers Heath- cote. " I'm goin'." There is a feverish quickness to her speech as she takes her shawl from its peg near the arch. " No matter about your duds," says the man. " I'll buy you more than ever you saw before in your life. Just take something to cover your face, so Mistress Dormer shall not catch you." Heathcote looked into the parlour, spied the cloak covering Charteris so completely as to leave no outline of his figure. " This '11 do ! " he cried, darting to lay his hand upon it. Pamela swiftly followed him, her fingers over his so quickly that he had not a moment to think or act. " Not that," she said harshly, compelling his hand away with her own, not by strength, but merely by contact and will. She turned him away from the unsuspected pros- trate form, a smile upon her lips now, as she pulled PAMELA CONGREVE 81 his handkerchief from his throat. " I'd rather this a thousand times, Master Heathcote," and she tied it over her head, covering her eyes nearly and her lips. " Would you, sweetheart ? " he cried, enraptured, catching her up in his arms, and running out with her into the twilight where the coach stood awaiting the passengers. He lifted her to a seat, and then, no matter for the busy crowd elbowing, pushing, chat- tering, swearing, as they resumed their seats; no matter for the peer of the realm, who stood at an upper window, trying his best to spy out the girlish figure he had seen, and to discover the face he had not seen, and failing at both; no matter for any- thing, Heathcote thought, as he gathered Pamela's two little feet in his hands and kissed them, then swung himself up beside her. " Merry shall thy dance be in gay London Town," he said gaily. " London Town ! " echoed she under her breath. " Where the ribbons and fallals be. The learnin', the readin', and the writin', and the cipherin' ! " A quiver in the voice, a sob smothered in a burst of rippling laughter, a heart that beat as though it would break, and Heathcote, Meg, Peter Twiss, the 82 PAMELA CONGREVE whole company of the players, within and without the coach, bursting into song of " When Phyllis would a-shopping go." Pelham, Lord Charteris, heard them as he slowly disembarrassed himself from the folds of his cloak, contrived very well to sit upright; picked up his dagger, and replaced it in its accustomed pocket; joined whistling in with the merry lilt of the fair Phyllis; rose, adjusted his wig and ruffles; poured himself a mug of wine; and, not by any means for the first time in his life, reflected upon the extraor- dinary facility with which a gentleman of parts can extricate himself from unpleasant, even dangerous situations by a measure of coolness and the apt em- bracing of his opportunities. After washing and perfuming his hands, laying a silk pocket napkin soaked in rum over the prick in his side, giving his hat the cock, and his cloak the swing over his shoulder and sword, Lord Char- teris walked out of the parlour of the Greene Shippe up to the company of Lady Betty and the rest, posing wan, and somewhat melancholy from a wound in the heart side, how received, no one could persuade him to tell. PAMELA CONGREVE 83 Not long afterward his lordship went over to France for the betterment of his health, and more particularly to avoid that choice of disasters, either imprisonment for debt, or a marriage with Lady Betty Wyndham. CHAPTER IX THE SWEET-ACRE A TWELVEMONTH and more had gone by since Doddington Heathcote and his com- pany of players had left the Greene Shippe for London. Pamela and Jess had at first found lodging with a cheesemonger's family in Long Lane, near West Smithfield, but very soon had removed to quarters near the theatre in Gooseberry Lane over the Rose, where Monsieur Gimbart, the perfumer, swung out his sign of a full-blown Tudor flower above a window full of " Genuine Bear's Grease, ladies' hair dyes, Parisian soaps, magic washes, vegetable gloves for the preservation of the Fair, lemon po- made, milk of roses, sweet scents of primrose, jessa- mine, cowslip ; Venus oil, rouge from Milan ; patches from Genoa, a gentil assortment of Italian muslins, Sarcanets, Radzimores, Barcelona handkerchiefs, taffetas, gauzes, and other delicate stuffs for the making of veils, turbans, hoods, and such." 84 PAMELA CONGREVE 85 Monsieur Gimbart, with his wife and son God- frey, had quarters back of the shop. Upstairs was the laboratory ; next to it, under the roof, were the rooms that Pam and Jess lived in when they were not at the playhouse. Godfrey, a slim lad, was sure he had a vocation to become an actor, since at the age of one year he had been lent to Drury Lane to appear as the Stolen Infant in the drama of The Lost Heir, but was re- strained from his ambition by his father, and pinned down to the compounding of unguents and perfumes in the garret. It was, after all, not such a bad place to be an apprentice in. The oval window looked out like a large eye upon a fair pleasaunce the Sweet-Acre, which had once belonged to the Worshipful Com- pany of Apothecaries, where for many years roses, violets, marjoram, lavender, thyme had shed their fragrance. Even now in spring, daffodils and peonies, lilies and gilliflowers bloomed out amidst all the rankness of the weeds; limes and cherries, quinces and damascenes rioted in season; large mul- berry trees cast their shadows on the neglected grass plots and the green and dank mossed paths. Such a garden had once been an apt spot for the rumina- 86 PAMELA CONGREVE tions and concoctions of the apothecaries, but they had outgrown so small a space, and given back their lease to the owner of the land, Sir Francis Spencer of the Guards, to whose adjoining house the Sweet- Acre had been originally a pleasure garden. Now, house and garden alike deserted, Sir Francis in prison for debt, his family down in Devonshire living on the scantiest commons, and not a purchaser or even a tenant to be found for the house, it was free to the lodgers whom Monsieur Gimbart entertained in his garret. Right or wrong, Pam frequented the Sweet-Acre, loved it for its breath of bloom, and waft of country patches of good brown earth, its remoteness in the midst of din. She loved to stare at the high pali- sades and hedge that guarded it from the bustle of Gooseberry Lane; at the windows of Sir Francis' house, all closely shuttered and draped with cob- webs, yards long, dangling in the summer breeze; vowed in her heart that some day she'd lease the house herself, when she had made a hit at the theatre, and turn the Sweet-Acre once more into the paradise it must have been long ago; loved to perch in the tallest mulberry tree, and find the one glimpse of the Thames to be had ; to dream of the river's wind out to PAMELA CONGREVE 87 the sea; to go back sixteen months to a night at the Greene Shippe; in her weak, blind fashion, to pray that the man she had left there stricken by her blow was not dead. Pam could not believe that he was. Although entirely ignorant of his title and position, she felt sure that, had his corpse been discovered in the Inn parlour, the echo of the story would have reached her ears. It never had. This was what she believed in the daylight, out in the Sweet-Acre, but at the play- house at night the old haunting fear possessed her young soul, and made her glad her lines lay in the midst of the movement and mirth, the careless jollity of the greenroom and the stage. Pam had got learning. Twiss, the son of a par- son, and college-bred, who taught her, swore that never was such an apt scholar. In no time at all she had mastered the reading and writing, though she showed no head at all for figures ; yet at music, singing, dancing, she fully made it up, and Heath- cote very well knew that, once the girl got her chance to show what she could do, the town would be at her beck. The chance was not far off now, since, by the showing of the prints posted up at the coffee-houses 88 PAMELA CONGREVE and elsewhere, " Mrs. Bicknell was to have her bene- fit on the twelfth of the current month, when was to be acted The Man of Fashion, The Venturesome Valet, and Mistress Molly; in the first two pieces Mrs. Bicknell herself to appear ; in the last a young lady to make her debut, Mistress Pamela Congreve, in the title role." Not that Pam was " on the twelfth of the cur- rent month " to tread the boards of Covent Garden for the first time; the night after she had reached London she had gone on in the crowd as a Grecian girl in the tragedy of Helen of Troy, and not a day since, save Sundays, had she missed appearing some- times with a few words to say, but oftener with none her name never on a bill, but her face graven on many a gallant's heart, while she was safe-housed, now studious, now merry, now remorseful, and filled with fright, up in Monsieur Gimbart's garret with Jess. So it was really a debut that Heathcote planned. Mrs. Bicknell, haughty and benevolent, thought little enough of the blue-eyed, dark-haired slip of a girl who must curtsey down to the ground to such a great artist as she, and seldom get a nod in return. PAMELA CONGREVE 89 The morning was just peeping over the mists of the city into the Sweet-Acre. As it crept on, pink and scented with spring, Pam left Jess sleeping soundly, and stole, book in hand, down the rickety stairs. Yet her footfall was not so light that it did not waken Godfrey on his pallet in the musty labora- tory. Up he sprang, rubbing his eager boy's eyes, to the window, pushing out the swinging pane to behold his divinity, for the lad, in his stolid way, worshipped her. Pamela walked forth into the cool rapture of the dawn, smock open-throated, the dews dripping about her ankles, the smile on her mouth a meet wel- come to the fairest hour of the day. Godfrey, his elbows on the sill, his chin in his palm, watched her greedily. She soon gained her favoured spot, an old bench at the foot of a mul- berry tree ; and plucking from her bosom a square of looking-glass she stuck it in a notch, drew out the bench upon the grass, so that, when sitting, she could best see her own reflection, and then, shutting the book, with her finger slipped within the leaves, Pam- ela began to rehearse " Mistress Molly," with such plenitude of fine-lady airs and graces, such a ripple of mirth, such an abundance of oglings, sighings, swoonings, as presently put Godfrey into a frenzy 90 PAMELA CONGREVE of delight, so that he could hardly restrain himself from clapping and huzzaing. " Nay, now, that was not well done ! " cried Pamela, shaking her head at her own presentment in the mirror. " Let me see if I cannot better it by standing up, so," and she altered the place of the looking-glass in the tree to suit her position, which was now aloft on the bench. " Mistress Molly, new come to the country, leaving scores of suitors up in town ; all she'd favoured, one she'd flouted, these her smiles and him her frown; but, of course, the swain she'd scouted was the swain she did adore! Pickle was to make him know it; men are stupid at such lore. Molly now contrived a fashion (for this swain had followed her), and forth- with she planned a battle where she meant to surely score." So Pam rehearsed the argument, bursting into a peal of merry laughter as she reached these words; then flipping the page, and reading on: " Enter Lord Diffident. I pretend not to see him, and continue to sing." The tune she sang was the very one that Heath- cote had played for her to dance to long ago at the Inn; the words were Surrey Beauclerc's, and here they are: PAMELA CONGREVE 91 Phyllis would a-shopping go; At her chair a string of beaux. Would she buy on credit long? Sing fa-la, oh, merry song! Phyllis bought perfumes and gloves, 'Broidered o'er with little doves; Bought a ferret cap and fan; Milk of roses for her tan. Bought a swan-skin cloak and hood; Tried 'em on there, as she stood, In her chair, the little minx! Watching her with eyes of lynx, All those sighing, gallant swains Hugging each fair Phyllis' chains. Bought a turban decked with pearls, And a ribbon for her curls. Oil of lemons, scented soaps, Cowslip essence for her mopes. Then, her chairman got the word, Every gallant also heard, "Bear me straightly to the Cock!" After her the whole gay flock. Phyllis here bought tanse tarts; Potted wheat ears, sugar darts; Hartshorn jellies, gingerbread; Godivean pies and comfits red. " Hence ! " she ordered. " Racket Court, H. Pugh's Shop ! " Whereat she bought Pins of silver and shagreen, Things beloved of sweet eighteen! All those gallants hov'ring 'round, Save but one, could not be found! Phyllis looked in vain for him: Such was ever lady's whim! 92 PAMELA CONGREVE She will pine for that she's not, Pout and flout her present lot. Phyllis home from shopping hied, While her smiles her heart belied; "Go!" she ordered every swain; "Tarry not, 'tis all in vain; My humour's poor for plaints and sighs, I swear not one of ye I prize ! " Fain these gallants were to roam, Far from Phyllis and her home. Each downcast and drooping Sir, Mauled and mangled all for her. At her threshold Phyllis found, Bowing down unto the ground, That lost Him she'd sought in vain, Just anon amidst her train. Smiling now, eyes dancing so, Phyllis still would shopping go. " Nay ! " cried he, " I pray you, Sweet ! " Down he kneels at Phyllis' feet " I will wager aught you say, You have bought something to-day, Not with pennies, shillings, pounds, Yet, 'tis patent, madam, zounds! With a smile, you've purchased me, Body, heart, and soul; all three I" Phyllis laughed a merry while, Blushing, coying, sweetest guile. " Ah," cried he, " I pray you, hark, Come with me across the Park? I would fain a-shopping go; To the goldsmith's in Soho. I would buy an endless thing Like my love; Sweet lips, a ring!" PAMELA CONGREVE 93 Phyllis would a-shopping go, At her chair a string of beaux; Would she buy on credit long? Sing fa-la, oh, merry song. " Sing fa-la " the lost one cries " I have got the greater prize. Spendthrift you of guineas, crowns, Buying fallals, brooches, gowns! I that would give all the earth, Counting it as little worth, Still have bought me, credit long, Dearest she, Oh, sing the song! Fa-la-la Love's never wrong Fa-la-la never wrong never wrong! By this time it was seven o'clock, and the Square was beginning to stir. Gooseberry Lane was not without its interests at that hour of the morning. Here came footmen, guiding their masters home after a merry night at Will's ; fruit-peddlers hawk- ing apples and plums ; milk-girls with their cows and pails, and now a gallant turning the corner on his way, doubtless by the short-cut, to Princess Street. There could be little question how he had spent the night, since there were' wine-stains on his ruffles, a dent in his hat, and dark rings under his hand- some eyes. Alas ! there was little else handsome about him : a creature dwarfed in stature, and with a hump on his back, yet bearing in his head those twin 94 PAMELA CONGREVE resplendent stars that spoke truly of the beauty of his soul. Coming nearer, he caught the floating echo of Pam's song ; nearer yet, and he discerned the lilt and tenor of the words ; his own ! and recognition brought him to a halt, a smile of joy upon his lips, for never, so he inwardly swore, had he heard a voice so be- witching as this. Merrily it rang out once more : "Phyllis would a-shopping go, At her chair a string of beaux!" The gentleman crossed to the other side of the lane, and made his way cautiously along by the iron palisade until he came to the gates. The bolt was broken, the pin rusting on the ground; it was easy to push the barrier softly back upon its hinges ; there was none to hear but Godfrey Gimbart, and he was too engrossed with Pamela to note anything else. The threshold of the garden thus once gained, the hunchback thrust aside the thick matting of the hedge, and presently, through the break thus made, gained his first glimpse of Pam- ela, now sitting with her back to him, the play- book beside her; in her uplifted hands the square of looking-glass. She was laughing, coquetting with PAMELA CONGREVE 95 her own delicious counterpart; sometimes rippling from song into mere speech, as she turned her head now this side, and now that, studying the effect. " Heathcote would have me take a strident tone like Mistress Bicknell, and rate Lord Diffident for his apparent lack of warmth, but 'tis not so I'll play Mis- tress Molly, although I do humour him into believing that I shall. Enter Lord Diffident.' " A step nearer came the hunchback, his eyes fas- tened on Pam, as if ensnared. " Then I shall not even look up, rise, or show by so much as the quiver of an eyelash that I know he's arrived. There's nothing so cures a man's lack of courage as to give him everything to do, nor help him an inch to his desire. Seeing it so remote, he will forthwith begin to long and strive for it all the more ! " Then Pam laughed all to herself. " I shall say it quite casual, eyes still bent upon my 'broidery frame, * Who comes ? ' and when he an- swers I shall keep my seat, nor stretch forth my hand, nor aught else, save send my silk-reel rolling. He chases it I laugh fit to kill he fetches it with bow profound, and then I'll say indifferently, biting off my thread, and holding up my needle, ' Sir, shall we not shake hands ? ' " 96 PAMELA CONGREVE Much nearer crept the gentleman with the wine- stained ruffles, his lips curving into involuntary smiles. " His finger-tips meet mine," continued she. " He flushes, stumbles, stammers, forgets whatever 'twas he meant to say. I laugh, do not withdraw my hand, look up into his eyes " Pamela glanced into the mirror, and with a shriek caught sight of the face of the hunchback peering into it over her own fair bare shoulder. Godfrey stood glued to his casement open- mouthed, too slow to move as yet; but a gentleman also strolling home from White's, his pockets light as his heart, heard Pam's scream. To him nothing seemed so pleasurable as to fly to the assistance of Beauty in distress. A slash into the hedge with his sword, a plunge through the undergrowth, a quick stride, a strong arm raised above Pamela, a slip of steel flashing in the first burst of that day's sunshine, and two men looked at each other; the hunchback, hat in hand, bowing to the ground before Pam, who was terrified into a complete silence. " Madam," he said, " I humbly sue for pardon. Lured by the witchery of your voice, I ventured in, lured still further by the magic of your face and "Peering into it over her own fair bare shoulder." PAMELA CONGREVE 97 form, I unconsciously advanced, as even devils will to the very gates of Paradise. Prithee, Sir De- fender," laughing into the other's face, " present me to the Fair whom you would rescue from this mon- ster ! " and he tapped his hump with the tip of his blade with a sardonic, yet pitiful, smile of self -de- rision. " Madam," returned the other, sheathing his sword, and also bowing profoundly, " I present to you the Honourable Surrey Beauclerc, poet, prince of good fellows, brave blade, reckless gamester, wor- shipped of the Fair, wit, fop, gentleman from crown to heel!" Beauclerc bowed while Pamela, for the first time, turned to look at the speaker, and their eyes met. The lives of some men are but an interrogatory up to a certain point; it is when they encounter a cer- tain woman. She is the Answer. Flushing deepest rose beneath the ardent gaze of those intense eyes, Pamela in a flash remembered a voice she had heard the night she quitted the Greene Shippe; remembered her replies to the unseen ques- tioner; remembered, and was seized with the terror that usually only overcame her at the fall of night. She caught her smock together at the throat, and 98 PAMELA CONGREVE fled across the Sweet-Acre into the shop, her long curls flying after her, her little white heels twinkling in and out among the grasses, nor did she pause until she had gained the garret where Jess still slept. Then Godfrey rattled at the window with his pestle, wagging his nightcapped head, and cried: "Begone, varlets!" with a brave mimicry of Twiss at the theatre, yet glad he was safely aloft. Both gentlemen looked up; then both laughed. " And who are you, Sir Valiant? " asked Beau- clerc, waving his blade. " Please, your worship," said Godfrey, relapsing into the speech of every day, " I'm just naught but serving-man to her." " And who's she? " pursues the hunchback, as Har- lowe stood silent, but all ears for the lad's answer. " A player, sir." " A player ! " echoed both gentlemen at once. " Here's for your breakfast, boy ! " cried the Duke, aiming a sovereign at Godfrey's palm, which closed deftly upon it. " A player ! " His Grace spied and picked up the book Pamela had left lying on the bench, opened it, and saw written there, in a strag- gling hand, " Pamela Congreve, her booke." PAMELA CONGREVE 99 " Pamela Congreve ! " he murmured softly to him- self, then whipped his pencil from his pocket and scribbled on the page : " The venturesome him who dares write here fain would be the book of her whose it is, that he might sometimes know her touch, her glance, her interest, and possession. Harlowe." He laid it gently down, and cried lightly: " Come along, Beauclerc, dear fellow, nor waste three good hours out of bed any further ! " His Grace swung away to the palisade, out through the bramble and brush into Gooseberry Lane, some- thing singing at his heart he had never known before. But Beauclerc did not follow immediately. In- stead, he took Pam's square of looking-glass and gazed into it: he did not see his own image, but rather that most exquisite face of hers. Now he pressed his lips upon it, then he groaned, and dashed the bauble into bits upon the ground. " 'Tis as near as ever I can hope to come to her sweet flesh," he murmured, " nor can I even dare to tell her what I feel. She shrieked at sight of me. Me ! " The hunchback shuddered, and his lips curled scornfully. " Me that would give all my blood to make her happy! Well, well, now, Mr. Beauclerc," 100 PAMELA CONGREVE as he emerged from the Sweet-Acre to the lane. " Home, sir ! Home ; to make verses and reputa- tions, or unmake these latter ; to bed and up again ; to dress and dine ; to ogle twenty ladies, not one the peer of her that's but a player ! " CHAPTER X LADY BETTY MAKES UP HER MIND ON the llth of the month Pamela went to bed, with the world of fashion little recking of her existence; on the morning of the 13th she awoke on the 12th Mrs. Bicknell had had her great benefit to find her- self famous. The wits and beaux, led, one may be sure, by Surrey Beauclerc, pronounced Pamela the most faultless and divine creature that had ever trod the boards of any theatre in London, the ladies vowed her the positive mould of all that was sweetest upon which to hang clothes, which became her as they did no other; the King, lolling in his box, swore she was heavenly ; the Princess sent her an etui carved of precious ivories inlaid with emeralds, and the number of jewels, baubles, flowers, sweetmeats, fur- belows, copies of verses, manuscripts of plays, which presently cumbered her garret, was amazing. Doddington Heathcote was the happiest manager, 101 102 PAMELA CONGREVE if the unhappiest man in town, for Pamela was no more willing to listen to his well-urged suit now than she had been at the Greene Shippe; yet he was that lucky person in whose theatre she was bound by her bond to act exclusively for the next two years. Mrs. Bicknell flounced off in a huff to Bath, leav- ing the field clear, and into her roles Pam jumped with a vast ease and audacity, however her heart may have quaked beneath her bodice. The town went mad for her. Tradesmen, from bakers up to Court mantua-makers, christened their cakes and gimcracks, their hoods, hoops, es- sences, and fichus after the Congreve. A crowd of fine gentlemen and ladies, 'prentices, milliners, cour- tiers, rustics come to town, such as was never before seen outside of a Lord Mayor's show or a coronation, jostled, pushed, scrambled, fought for a glimpse of her as she passed in and out of the stage door, or took an airing in the park. Presently, there was not a club, coffee-house, or tea-table that chattered of anything but the new beauty. Success so unparallelled, the town swore, was never known before, nor ever borne with such careless grace; no airs, no mincings, no delicate dawdlings or studied posings, but simple directness in her words PAMELA CONGREVE 103 and with her fellow-workers; for all the rest of it, Pam laughed and tossed back her curls, and fright- ened away all suitors with that best weapon of any, incredulity. In three months from the night of Mrs. Bicknell's benefit, Pam had taken Sir Francis Spencer out of jail by the leasing from him of his house and Sweet- Acre garden. Jess, not so successful as a player, was more than happy to exchange the duties of a super for those of chief waiting-woman to Mistress Congreve; Godfrey joyfully rose from the com- pounding of essences to being Pam's porter, content to serve day and night in silent reverence. The night that Pamela first came to her home from the playhouse, after the company that had gathered to light the house-warming candles and drink her health, were gone ; after the place was still, and even Jess away to her closet, she took from its hiding place the book of " Mistress Molly," and read what Harlowe had written on the page beneath her name. It was not the only time she had read it since the day she found it lying on the bench: Harlowe and Pam were fast friends by this: he, worshipping the ground she trod; she, coy, indifferent, difficult to 104 PAMELA CONGREVE please, wayward, full of moods ; now smiles, now frowns ; a hint of tears, and these presently drowned out by the merriest, maddest laughter that was ever listened to by a poor distraught, pleading swain. Would she? Perhaps she would. On second thought it was quite impossible she ever could; on a third reflection, it cut her to the quick to see any gentleman so miserable and dishevelled; but, again, was it not ever best to put one of the opposite sex through a course of discipline? and yet once more, " Lud, sir, there's my finger-tips ; you think they were made to kiss? Nay, does not our only verse- maker, Mr. Beauclerc, say 'tis lips were fashioned for that office solely ? Nay, have done ! " A twitch, a twinkle, a flutter of taffetas and laces, and off danced Pamela out of the long window to the veranda and down the Sweet-Acre, the Duke after her, but alas! never catching up with that bewitching red mouth, never getting any nearer to that enchanting dimple at its corner than with his envious eyes. Beauclerc watched it all, how hungrily none might guess; yet so noble was his soul that he could take bitter joy in looking at the happiness of another; he believed Pam would sooner or later yield to Har- PAMELA CONGREVE 105 lowe's pleading, for he was a gentleman any lady might well love and cherish. Tall and well-formed, with that especial elegance of figure and carriage which most appeals to the Fair; dark, so that his cheeks and chin showed blue mixed with the ruddy blood that was quick to mantle in his face; with a mouth made both to sue and to command, yet subtly gentle as a lady's in its wooing, but stern enough when needful; teeth as white as Pamela's own ; and eyes to the full as darkly blue, yet bold and insatiable where hers were sparkling, veiled, grave, luring, or sedate; hair as dark as Pam's own, too, but worn in the fashion of the time, powdered, tied, and perfumed with Monsieur Gim- bart's best. " By Gad ! " said the hunchback to himself, survey- ing the two of them together. " He is worthy of her ; she of him ! She aye, she is worthy an arch- angel, were such gentry seeking spouses hereabouts." So, with London at her feet, the King ready to do her homage ; Harlowe, the greatest catch of the day, her chief suitor ; Surrey Beauclerc making verses and breaking his heart about her, was Pam happy? She sometimes stood staring at her own image in the Venetian mirror which the hunchback had given 106 PAMELA CONGREVE her in reparation of the one he had broke the day they first met, and the full lips trembled and quiv- ered, the dancing eyes grew sombre, the sighs came, andlthe sobs. Pamela was remembering; remembering that she was not for any man ; that the shadow of a possible, nay probable, crime hung over her, and that back of that again there lay a something that could never be forgotten. What could she do now? Nothing but push it all behind her; shut the door tight on half of her nature ; laugh and dance her time away. She wondered at her success, but it added little to either her joyor her self-confidence. It was on Pamela that Mr. Beauclerc's thoughts ran as he was carried in his chair down Pall Mall, the rain falling in torrents, the leathers creaking in a frightful din, and the poet shaken and bumped this way and that as his chairmen forced some unfor- tunate pedestrian against the wall, or ran him splashing into the kennel, which was at full tide, and spattering everything with filth, while the four of them burst into ruffianly laughter. Beauclerc was presently set down at Lady Ham- mond's, in De Beauvoir Street, for a dish of Bohea PAMELA CONGREVE 107 and to hear the news, her ladyship being now ninety years of age, but as apt at gossip, novelty, loo, ombre, and piquet, as if she were her own great-grand- daughter. It was here our poet learned that Lord Charteris had been for three weeks back from France, and so taken with Mistress Congreve as to pass every night of his life staring at her from the pit. Had not Mr. Beauclerc remarked it? No, Mr. Beauclerc had not : he had been too much engrossed in staring at the goddess himself to take note of other gentlemen in a like predicament. Further, Lady Betty Wyndham, not the least tamed by a year's moralising, was back in town by the same post that fetched the news Charteris had landed in England; with her she had dragged her uncle, Sir Thomas, reluctant, fuming, and irate, as well as her aunt and Kitty, in whose wake hovered, hopeful yet uncertain of his fate, the doughty Sir Toby. And Charteris? He was no more ardent than a twelvemonth before ; he had not yet paid his duty to Lady Betty, but divided his time, day and night, between the play- house and the gaming-table. 'Twas monstrous, the 108 PAMELA CONGREVE fair critics thought, for any gentleman so to mal- treat and flout a lady of spirit and fortune. As Mr. Beauclerc was taking his leave he encoun- tered Lady Betty and her aunt coming in for a les- son at whist, since Mr. Edmund Hoyle was engaged each afternoon in teaching the ladies of the first quality the true values of hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds. " La, Mr. Beauclerc ! " cried Lady Trevor. " Well met, sir ! " " Sweet ladies," the hunchback answered, with lips for the hand of each, " I swear but this is fortunate for me, and I just back in town ! " " Lud, sir! " says Betty. " I've not put eye upon you since the day we quitted Coniston Grange, and were spilled out of our coach at Tamworth the day Lord Charteris got his mysterious wound and was off to Paris. Ever since we have been moping in the country. He is once more in town, so I've heard," she added eagerly, all her heart in the post- script of her speech, as is often the habit of her sex. " True, Lady Betty, so I believe," answered Beau- clerc. " For I've just heard the same from Lady Hammond, and if there's aught to know, she knows it." PAMELA CONGREVE 109 " Then you've not seen him? " cried the lady anx- iously. " No, but only heard," says he, bowing and chir- rupping for his porters, being tender-hearted and un- willing to behold pain in so handsome a face, " that my Lord Charteris is in the same catalogue of sighing swains that sit dozens deep in the pit of Covent Garden each night that Mistress Congreve plays." Lady Betty's face flushed even beneath its layer of crimson ; she tottered, grasping her aunt's arm. " Sir, Mr. Beauclerc," she said, stopping the poet's path deliberately. " Pray you, what's the way to see this creature the town's run mad about? " and she bit her thin lips till they almost bled. " The stalls ! The stalls ! " answered he gaily. " To-night there's a monstrous fine programme." " Lud, Mr. Beauclerc ! My Uncle Thomas had rather see us dead than take us to the theatre." " Aye," assented Lady Trevor. " Or set foot in such a vile place himself. Sir Thomas is consistent with all his faults, most consistent." " Is there no other way to get a sight of her? " urged Lady Betty anxiously. " Sweet Mr. Beau- clerc, pray you, think ! I know I should see so much 110 PAMELA CONGREVE that was admirable, and be the better able to chatter with the rest." " Mistress Congreve takes the air every day in her chair," he suggested. " Bah, sir ! I'd not make one with the rabble, and follow at her lackeys' heels." " Madam, you could not ! " he answered ardently, with a bow to both. " Your mien among the throng would soon overtop them and proclaim your sta- tion." " But I'd know, dear Mr. Beauclerc," wheedled Betty, " how to encounter Mistress Congreve and have speech with her. None so sure to know as you. Where think you? " " The theatre, that's her hunting-ground. Seek her there. The greenroom's open for all persons of consequence the whole night through." "I'll do it! "cried Betty. " You're mad ! " Lady Trevor exclaimed. " Nay, aunt," retorted the younger, sweeping the poet a curtsey down to the ground, and pulling her elder into the drawing-room after her. " I swear I'll go to the theatre this very night, and you with me. Nay, shake not your head; masked and veiled, what's to hinder? I'll make the hussy tremble, and PAMELA CONGREVE 111 teach her how to weave her spell around Pelham, Earl of Charteris ! " " But, Betty, your uncle ! " cried the matron, aghast at this plan, which she knew her niece's tem- per well enough to be sure would be carried into exe- cution. " My uncle be hanged ! " said Betty with decision. " When he was young he followed his will, and spent his nights in the playhouse. 'Tis for that cause he's now set prim against them. My uncle had his day and night, madam, too; and I swear so will I! To save scandal you'll go with me ; and when I stand face to face with her, she'll find I'm not my uncle's niece for naught. Seek not to coax or threaten; my mind's made up. Faugh! You once bade me have a proper spirit; surely now's the time to show it, with both Harlowe and Charteris, not to speak any other gentleman's name in town, and even the abject little dwarf Beauclerc, twanging the praises of this player in my ears ! I'll see for myself where lies the spell, and, by Gad! as my uncle says, I'll essay to break it ! " CHAPTER XI SIE THOMAS VISITS THE BOTTOMLESS PIT MEG, dressed as an Indian squaw, sat at the harpsichord, a half-dozen players in Quaker garb were gathered to right of the instrument, conning their lines and leaning against bits of scenes representing a camp. What there was not in the room would be easier named than what was; tiger skins, drums, rapiers, gloves, flowers, wigs, fans, shawls, and ribbons were strewn everywhere. Before a rude dressing table which almost edged upon the stage itself, sat Heath- cote quietly making up his face for a Mohawk chief, but ever and anon his eye ran over from the looking- glass to the small door at the upper corner on which was tacked the name " Mistress Pamela Congreve." Beside it on the wall was hung the flaunting play bill of the night, reading thus : " Clementina, the graceful and inimitable, in a pas seul with the music originally composed by Mr. Knight. First performance on any stage of the 113 PAMELA CONGREVE 113 pathetic drama in one act, Minnehaha, with Mistress Meg Kent as an Indian Maiden. To be succeeded by the exquisitely comical conceit, The Quaker's Daugh- ter, Mistress Pamela Congreve as Pastorella. The whole to be concluded by the new tragi-comedy in two acts and the epilogue of Marlborough's Man. Mistress Congreve in her most wonderful character of Captain Mirabeau." " Stop that noise in here," cried Heathcote, firing a rabbit's foot at Meg. " There's enough out there in the house without your adding to it." And indeed there was a royal hubbub of stamping, clapping, calling, and shouting as well as the tooting and scraping of the orchestra. The breeze from the up-going curtain brought in such a whiff of essences and perfumes as seemed wafted from an Eastern garden. The call boy popped in his head. " Clementina, you're called ! " said he, disappearing with the dancer, who rubbed her soles in the chalk-box on the way to her dance. " The boy lies," said Meg calmly, " for no one's ever called now any more save Pamela. Has she come yet ? " she added, regarding her tawny skin dubiously. 114 PAMELA CONGREVE " Come? She's in her room," answered Heath- cote. " Aye, spying out window to see if his Grace's coroneted chair blocks the way ! " " Hold your tongue ! " was all the comfort Heath- cote had for her. " Zooks," said she, " don't look so glum, there's others as fair as Pam." " There's not, I swear ! S) " Well, well, at least, I swear there's many another gentleman more of a gallant than you ! " The manager bowed his head with a sardonic grin, as he rubbed the rouge around his eyes. " There's Mr. Beauclerc and Lord Charteris now returned from the French Court in the train of the Princess Royal from Versailles," continued Mistress Meg, still surveying her own darkened countenance in her pocket mirror with some rueful- ness. " Charteris ! Egad ! " muttered Heathcote. " Ever since he's shown in town, he's every night in the pit, his eyes riveted on Pamela's face." " Him too ? " laughed Meg. " Heaven grant she leave me my sweet Mr. Beauclerc ! La ! do all the Colony ladies dress of this fashion, I wonder now? " PAMELA CONGREVE 115 pulling her girdle of feathers straight and adjusting her moccasins. " Rat me if I know ! " exclaimed Heathcote. " Ask Mr. Beauclerc, for here he is ! " And in came the hunchback, presenting his snuff- box to the fair Minnehaha, as he bowed low before her extended hand. " Mr. Beauclerc, sir, how do I look ? " said Meg anxiously. " Aye, sir," returns he, nodding familiarly to Heathcote, with a glance about at all the persons in the room. " That's the eternal cry ! I dare be sworn ' how do I look ? ' is what Eve said to Adam when the first fig-leaf came home from the mantua- maker's. * Look,' fair lady ? Beautiful, beautiful ! What other way does a woman ever look in the eyes of a man who understands his duties ! " " Lud, sir ! What a wit you have ! " "What's the news, chuck? What's the news?" he went on, fingering the powders and unguents, dropping into a seat, and watching Heathcote and the rest trooping off to the wings to await their cues. " Since I've been down in the country mending my health this past month, I've lost track of every merry novelty; prithee impart!" 116 PAMELA CONGREVE " The news," returned Meg, " is Pamela. All the earls in the kingdom at her feet ; all the dukes at her feet ; all the marquises at her finger tips ; the town's drunk with her, and the King mad with admiration of her, but you've sure heard this tale before seek- ing me out here? " " Nay, not I. Your greenroom's the first place in the world for gossip; even Lady Hamilton hath not so new a dish. What's this tale of the King, eh? " " Merely this," the player returned. " His most gracious Majesty this day week sends to Mistress Pamela Congreve a gilded vase of plate, so high, stuck full of diamonds, pearls, and rubies and what does Pam do but send her porter, Godfrey Gimbart, straight to the palace with it, and a letter to the Queen, saying the vase had doubtless reached her by a mistake, and was meant for her Majesty ! " Beauclerc laughed twice ; first over the neatness of the message, and again in rejoicing that Pam had not accepted the royal gift. " For my part, sir," Meg went on, " I don't blame any gentleman for preferring her to his wife. You see, wives have a way, Mr. Beauclerc, of being on such sacrilegiously intimate terms with their lords that one who begins by being the slave of her he PAMELA CONGREVE 117 pursues, ends by being tyrant of her that never allows herself to be run after." " Brava, Meg ! " cried the poet. " Spoke like Mr. Bickerstaff himself ! The Indian frock's given you a prettier wit than I supposed." " Egad, sir, I'm glad it's given me something. Oh, there's more news too. Lady Betty Wyndham's up in town, turned into grass, green as a June meadow, dying for Charteris and jealousy. Heath- cote's killin' himself by inches for Pam's sake, and plaguin' the life out of her on his way to the grave. Harlowe but you know of that." " Aye, I know," he answered, crossing at the back of the stage. And then burst forth such a clatter of a thousand tongues all shouting one name, as made Meg clap her fingers to her ears and run off to her call. "Pam! Pam! Pamela! Pam! Pam! Pamela!" echoed and re-echoed from the roof to the pit of the playhouse; 'prentice boys and peers alike calling for their favourite, as was the nightly custom of the time when the Congreve was the mode. Presently Godfrey Gimbart ran in, a bunch of posies as big as his head in one hand and a casket in the other; he tapped at his mistress' door. It 118 PAMELA CONGREVE opened on the crack disclosing Pamela in her petti- coat, her mouth full of pins, Jess doing up her hair and setting on her wig for her first part. " Well, Godfrey," said she, " what now, lad? " " From his Grace of Harlowe, mistress," he an- swered presenting both flowers and box. Pamela broke a rose from the bunch and stuck it in her bosom. " Jess, girl," she commanded carelessly, " take these other things and bestow 'em safely, I've not time now to look at 'em. Off, Godfrey, and tell your father I say for him to watch me close at my French lingo to-night, so that if I trip, after all the lessons he's given me, he may correct me to-morrow." Off went Godfrey, in went Pamela and Jess. As the door of the dressing room closed, Mr. Beauclerc returned from the wings to hear a loud knocking that betokened the arrival of a new visitor, of importance in his own eyes at least. " Whom have we here? " said he, as the noise in- creased, and " 'Pon honour, sir ! " was added, as Sir Thomas Trevor cautiously advanced into the green- room of Covent Garden Theatre. "Sir Thomas!" cried the hunchback. "The immaculate ! in that pest hole, the playhouse ! Ducks PAMELA CONGREVE 119 and drakes, sir, what brings you to this den of iniquity ? " Beauclerc laughed heartily, for he was old enough to remember Sir Thomas' early predilec- tions, and to know that his Puritanic symptoms had only been developed by that surest cause, a marriage with a lady of spirit. " Well met, Mr. Beauclerc," replied the baronet, glancing around and halting in the centre of the room. " I'll tell you what I'm here for. My daugh- ter Kitty's to marry Lord Rawdon of Rawdon ; she'll none of him, but steals her time philandering with a milksop called Toby Spencer ! " " Well, well, Sir Thomas. What's all this to do with the greenroom of Covent Garden ? " queried Beauclerc, though he knew well enough since his visit at Lady Hammond's what' the cause of the tempest was. " S'death, sir," cried the baronet. " Rawdon's no more for the match than Kitty nowadays, but kept from a proper suit of marriage by this play- actress baggage Pamela Congreve ! " The hunchback nodded as he tendered his jewelled snuffbox, and then began slowly pacing up and down, with a calm eye on Sir Thomas' fidgets. " Aye, sir," said he, " by a close reckoning the 120 PAMELA CONGREVE parsons should be out many a fat fee of late by means of her you name ; gentlemen who once behold her do shun other ladies and the altar of Hymen, 'tis said. You yourself mayhap, could you but meet her, might fall a victim to such a slice of sunshine ! " " Me, sir, me ! " shouted the older man, pounding the drum near him with his cane. " I'm here to meet her ; come to the bottomless pit itself, sir, to confront the hussy and bid her cease working her evil charms on the young gentleman I've selected for my daugh- ter's husband. Things have come to a pretty pass, Mr. Beauclerc, if a man can't marry his daughter to whom he pleases ! " Sir Thomas halted out of breath. " Most unreasonable, truly, for any young lady to wish to choose her own husband," returned the poet. " But, sir," he added, smiling to himself, " how do you purpose the compassing of your will ? " " How, sir ! " retorted the baronet, thumping up to the door of Pamela's dressing room and pointing to her name. " By stopping here till she emerges although I've never yet set eyes upon her, I'll know her at sight and then to rate her, subdue her, and teach her a lesson, sir ! " " Or learn one," muttered Beauclerc under his breath, still smiling at his own thoughts. PAMELA CONGREVE 121 " Heh, sir? " resumed Sir Thomas, having paused long enough to regain his breath. " Nor is this all. Here's my niece Betty dying of love bah! for my Lord Charteris, and him hanging fire before a wed- ding as though 'twere a rent-day ! " " Zounds, sir ! " laughs Beauclerc. " A wedding is the worser evil; it entails consequences, and your rent-day you can run away from ! " " Would to Heaven you could ! " responds Sir Thomas fervently, recalling his own arrears and his gaming debts to the Duke of Harlowe. " You re- call that night, more than twelve months ago now, when, after quitting you at Coniston Grange, we were spilled at Tamworth Charteris stabbed by some unknown ruffian at the Greene Shippe, off to the continent like a shot ; and no more of him till a fort- night or so since, and now he's haunting this dam- nable playhouse too, like one bewitched by this painted Jezebel of a stroller." " You're out there, Sir Thomas Trevor ! " cried the hunchback, his right hand instinctively seeking his hilt. " Pamela Congreve smiles on no man." " Tush, Mr. Versemaker. Harlowe's no eyes for Betty either since the Congreve came to town, and ray mind set on that match." 122 PAMELA CONGREVE " An honest gentleman, sir, who loves her." " Love ! Damnation, sir ! Cocksbones, sir ! Now, what's love, that one's forever hearing of it, yet never seeing it? Will o' the wisp, sir, fit food for poets and silly maids. Love! All on account of it, here am I in this polluted place ! " Sir Thomas now stopped short in both his thumping and his speech to arrange his twisted side-curls at the mirror. " I begin to feel wicked myself ! " " Come, come, sir ; let's to White's ! A cup of chocolate will warm you to your encounter and mend your erring wits. Come ! " and Beauclerc linked his arm in the old gentleman's, hoping to get him out of the theatre once for all. " Well, well, Mr. Beauclerc. The cup may give me strength to meet the minx anon and tell her to her face " Sir Thomas rapped off each word with his stick "just what I think of her!" " If I mistake not," returned the hunchback, " you'll think her enchanting nor tarry in the tell- ing of it, if ever you get the chance ! " But these words were spoken so low that Sir Thomas did not hear them, and, with a glance at hia watch, he followed Beauclerc's lead to White's. CHAPTER XII SIR THOMAS' FAMILY FOLLOWS HIS LEAD MISTRESS KITTY was not her father's daughter for naught ; nor was she up in town for the first time in her life to no purpose. Her pretty ear applied to the key- hole of her mother's boudoir, she had heard her cousin Betty's plan to visit the theatre that very night; how it was to be done; where the proper en- trance was, to get " behind the scenes " ; how masks and veils were to be worn, and all the paraphernalia of the plot. At dinner, therefore, she listened with commendable patience to her father's planning of her marriage with Lord Rawdon; listened to her mother and Betty speaking carelessly of how, " much wasted with the rout at Holland House the evening before, they'd seek their couches early to-night " ; listened when Sir Thomas cursed the players and the playhouse, and while the ladies bore him out with protestations as truthful as his own. 123 124 PAMELA CONGREVE " If ever I set foot in such a foul infected pre- cinct, may I never be forgiven! 'Tis a place I'd rather die than find myself within ! " cried Lady Trevor, but such execrations failed to outwit Kitty, who sat demurely, her eyes bent upon her knitting, and her head bobbing in acquiescent time with all these handsome lies. Now when Sir Thomas, believing his lady and his niece safely stowed beneath their counterpanes and quilts, softly crept from his room and ordered his chair brought round to the door ; when he descended, perfumed like a pouncet-box, hat cocked, his tasselled cane hanging at his side, and whispered to the men, shivering as he glanced over his shoulder, it was Kitty, hidden in the niche behind the tapestry on the stairway, who giggled softly as she heard his orders : " To Covent Garden, and run like the devil, or I'll ship ye all in the morning ! " She heard, too, when a quarter of an hour later, her mother and Betty, thinking her asleep, cloaked and hooded, tiptoed down the back staircase, through the pantry and the scullery. She trod lightly in their very footprints, out of the door that gave upon the mews, saw them enter a waiting coach, and heard Betty say to the footman: PAMELA CONGREVE 125 * ; To Covent Garden Theatre, the players' en- trance, and hover there until I jerk the string for you to halt." Then she retraced her steps, pulling after her the Buttons, dragging the affrighted lad into the library by the nape of his neck and administering to him such a shaking as turned him pale with fright. Kitty wrote two notes, and showing the boy a sov- ereign, said boldly, " Take this to Lord Rawdon, at Will's Coffee House, and this to Sir Toby Spencer at his lodging around the corner. If you are back in ten minutes the sovereign is yours ; if not, I'll see you discharged in the morning." The lad earned his golden piece ; for even before he returned Sir Toby was at the feet of his Fair, the coach she had bid him fetch waited in the mews ; and Mistress Kitty, two of her cousin's masks swinging on her arm, her cloak about her, her head swathed in her mother's macklin shawl, presently got within the coach, beckoning Toby after her. Masterfully she cried to the coachman, while Sir Toby trembled, " To the Covent Garden Theatre, the players' entrance, and drive for your life ! " Just as Sir Thomas Trevor and Mr. Beauclerc en- tered White's for their chocolate, Lord Rawdon, at 126 PAMELA CONGREVE Will's, was taking Kitty's note from the hands of her emissary. It read thus : " To Lord Rawdon of Rawdon : Honoured and dear sir, and friend whom I esteem but do not love. Be not affrighted at this page, 'tis but to acquaint you that my worshipful father is now en route to the theatre, bound to an encounter with Mistress Con- greve, to give her a piece of a very valuable com- modity to wit his mind! He is persuaded that you fight shy of wedding the writer hereof, because you are over head and ears in love with the said Mis- tress Congreve. I write you this, my lord, that you may prepare Mistress Congreve (whom I love, for that she hath ensnared you out of my path), and also his Grace, whom I revere for that he once said Sir Toby was brave (which is a lie, but I love lies when they are of a colour to please me). Pray you advise with the aforenamed to contrive themselves to the scrimmage, and so help me and my Toby to our wed- ding-day. Your dutiful but not loving, "KITTY TREVOR." Armed with this surprising missive, young Lord Rawdon speedily sought Harlowe in the pit of the theatre, and presently the latter came out and around to the greenroom. He met Pamela there. PAMELA CONGREVE 127 " Not a second to waste, your Grace," cried she. " Both my parts are new ones to-night." " Waste," answers he, prisoning of her hands. " Listen, Rawdon's just in receipt of a note from Mistress Kitty, Sir Thomas Trevor's daughter, which he brought to me, since it says Sir Thomas, ripe for battle, is coming here to-night to rate you that all men sue at no other ladies' slippers save yours ! " Pamela laughed, not with conscious coquetry, but mirthful and incredulous. " 'Tis a fact he comes to administer to you a piece of his mind, and Kitty sends the warning to you with her love." " 'Tis a sweet lady, and I honour and thank her." " You must not have the encounter ! I'll not allow his damned tongue wag you into tears," exclaimed the young man hotly. " Lud ! " said Pamela, " your Grace takes the matter too seriously. An old gentleman's a right to give away his opinions if he so desire ! " " 'Twill be rudely done. I'll not have it." " Trust me," says Pam. " Trust thee," whispers Harlowe. " Pamela, thou knowest that which lies ever next my heart and lips ! " His voice was low and serious. 128 PAMELA CONGREVE " Aye," answered she, mischief in her eyes, " thy shirt and a mug of wine ! " " Mistress, mock me not. I worship you." " Nay ! " with little curious airs half-put-him-off , half-call-him-on. " There's nobler ladies. Bethink you, what's a player anyway? A laughing toy, a dancing- jinny, that he who pays his shilling can take his fill of gazing at." " Pamela," said Harlowe, stopping short in his pursuit of her across the room. " Will you marry me to-night? " And, " Oh, no ! " she answered in affright at the strange seriousness of his tone, the strange new inti- macy of his ardent eyes. Her voice was as serious as his own, for in it lay the secrets of her strange and unknown past. For a second, as their glances met, hers raised to his, both mingling in a new delight, perchance the dearer that it was strangled at its birth, there was a pause, a hush broken only by the hubbub of the stage. Then Pam spoke first, laughing again. " You know I play the Quaker maid to-night. As Pastorella I'll meet Sir Thomas, rout, flout, pout Sir Thomas into into inviting me to his home for the PAMELA CONGREVE 129 Christmas holidays! What say you? What a jest 'twould be? I wager your Grace a kiss upon this hand ! you'll take me up ? " " Aye ! " cried he, a curious smile parting his lips. " Will I not? and play I've lost and haste now to pay my debt," attempting to suit action to his word. " No, no, I'd not have it so," said she. " Is not your humble suitor worthy of a hope thrown out as a crumb to a dog? " " Harlowe ! " Pamela broke away from him run- ning. " I'm no mate for thee." She paused at her door, an impulse to throw herself into his arms so strong upon her that it cost her a bitter struggle to deny it. Then she added proudly, almost defiantly, " What's my past? " " I ask for thy future," he answered gently. " Nay," said she, the thunders of applause from the audience, impatient for her entrance, echoing to their ears. " Yonder's all my future. Forget me, Harlowe, save when 'tis to be merry and an encounter like this I swear to have with Sir Thomas Trevor ! " And off she whisked into her room, the door slam- ming loudly under Jess's robust hand. Harlowe stood still. Then he turned to behold a 130 PAMELA CONGREVE slight cloaked figure advancing cautiously into the room from the alleyway without. " Mistress Kitty ! " he cried. " Aye," answers the newcomer, darting back a step and dragging Sir Toby in by the tail of his cloak, shivering behind his hat and plumes. " Madam ! And your father to be here, as you say in your note to Rawdon, at any moment! What's the excuse for such a piece of risk, I beg? " Sir Toby ventured to advance a step, nodding vig- orously in assent. " Tut, tut, your Graoe ! Give me a better welcome than, to scold and frown. I risk coming because I am sworn not to obey my parents. Because, not only my father should be here anon " Sir Toby shivered anew and took a peep over his shoulder " but my mother and my Cousin Betty are both in their chair on the road hither, the latter having the intention to bestow on Mistress Congreve a portion of that same dish my dad has a-cooking to wit, her mind! And know you why? Because you're tardy at your wooing ! These interviews are to break for- ever the chains that bind your Grace and Lord Raw- don to Mistress Congreve. Nay, thank me not; 'tis on Toby's account that I am come ! " PAMELA CONGREVE 131 " Nay, mistress, but I do thank you, and I pledge you Mistress Congreve shall be warned in time." Kissing Kitty's hand, Harlowe made off to scribble a line to Pamela informing her of the novel visitors she must now expect, at the same time a very reason- able joy tincturing his reflections at the beautiful possibilities of the tourney should Lady Trevor and her husband come face to face in the greenroom of the theatre! " Kitty, let's go home," said Sir Toby, edging to- ward the alley, when the Duke's back was turned. " Home? " cried Kitty, " and me just arrived in a theatre for the first time in my life! No, sir, not until I've seen the play out behind the scenes, if my father forbids me the stalls ! " At this particular juncture the voice of Kitty's father made itself heard in the alley, at which Sir Toby, shaking like an aspen, rushed madly from side to side, with lamentable outcries: " Your father ! Kitty, your father ! St. George and the Dragon ! What '11 we do ? " and Master Valiant fled to cover behind his charmer's spreading hoop. " Do this ! " retorted Kitty, hauling her suitor up the room by the ribbon of his queue, and bestowing 132 PAMEL'A CONGREV'E him and herself in the shadow of a pile of scenes representing the ruins of Troy. " Dear Toby, now are you as safe as a mouse in a cheese ! " " Would it were rather a mouse than I ! " cried he. " Tush ! " she said, peeping out as her father came in thumping with his cane, yet not so absorbed in his errand that he forgot to turn an eye on pretty Jess. " Saw you that, Toby? Daddy never looked at me that way in his life! What a thing it is in the matter of a young lady's education to be able to ob- serve her father from behind the scenes ! " Whereat Sir Toby giggled, Kitty pinched his arm, and, had it not been for an opportune burst of melody from the orchestra, this pair of mice would have then and there been trapped. CHAPTER XIII " PASTOEELLA " WITH some natures it is but a short cry from tragedy to comedy, from tears to laughter, the " De Profundis " of the soul to the lilt of a tripping tongue. There are women who can cover up the pity of a wound to the death, with as jocund a mirth as ever threw a whirl of sand in the onlookers' eyes. When Pamela rushed away from her noble suitor into her tiring-room, there to make ready for her appearance as the Quaker maid, though she laughed and jested with Jess at her mirrors and rouge pots, yet her hand shook, and in and out of the rosary of her thoughts ran the miserable endless thread of wonder as to Pelham and his life or death. As for that other thing, the mystery that lay even further back in her young life, it too obtruded itself more than ever upon her memory, as the temptation to yield her heart to Harlowe grew with each rise of sun. 133 134 PAMELA CONGREVE " Oh," she cried, " away with you ! " meaning all these pieces of the past, but Jess took the words to herself and put her hand on the latch, saying merely as she went: " Madam, will you have the posies his Grace sent you ? " " No," returned Pamela, looking at the nosegay on the stand. " Let be. I'll none of 'em. Get you gone, Jess ; take a peep at the house. Quaker maids must not be decked with ducal roses. Besides, I've a wager to win, girl ; a wager to win, and I must be about it quick, lest I've not time to reach my goal. Go fetch me word if an old gentleman's yet come into the greenroom." " Lawk ! he's been there a-cooling his heels this quarter-hour." " Alone ? " asked Pam, tiptoeing to her door. " Aye, and waiting on your entrance, for aught I knows." " Go out and see." Pamela herself opened the door and Jess popped out; Pam's ear was to the crack, all the sprites of mischief twinkling at one another in her eyes. Sir Thomas, his cane uplifted, like a veteran war- steed reawakened by a martial air, for he kept toler- PAMELA CONGREVE 135 able time to the orchestra with the beat of his stick, almost fell foul of Jess as she came in. He lost no time when he spied her. " I'd see your mistress at once, if Mistress Congreve be she, d'ye hear? " " I ain't deaf," remarked Jess demurely. " If you want to see her, she'll soon be on the stage. Go round and look at her." " Baggage ! " cries Sir Thomas " me ! me within the sinful walls of a theatre ? Never ! " " Where are you now ? " flouted Jess, eyeing the testy baronet and throwing a powder puff full in his face. At which, such are the contradictory possibilities of his sex, he sputtered, laughed in glee, made a lunge at Jess, kissed her cheek and cried (while Kitty and Pamela each looked on). " Split me, lass! but thy cheek's of velvet ! " But Jess, laughing gaily, plucked his gold snuff- box from his hand, and crying : " Exchange ! Ex- change ! " made off merrily. At the door she paused a moment and, with another shout of " Powder ! Powder and shot ! " aimed the puff-box so truly at Sir Thomas' hat that she sent him whirling across to the mirror to brush the telltale cosmetic from his cheeks. When he turned away from the looking-glass he 136 PAMELA CONGREVE encountered a little maiden all in grey. Sedate, blushing, her hands crossed under her kerchief, she curtseyed low and raised her eyes. The start she gave was almost imperceptible, but her heart beat the quicker as she recognised at once the old gentleman whose cane she had restored at the Greene Shippe, now so long ago. Sir Thomas had no memory of the barmaid at the Inn, and was fully im- pressed with the idea that her halt was due to his port and presence. She said most humbly in a low and measured voice: " Thee is the manager of the playhouse ? Nay, deny it not I know ! " for Sir Thomas fell to shak- ing his head most emphatically, standing stock-still, but getting deeper drunk each second with these un- accustomed doses of beauty. " Great men always deny their greatness," the minx added, curtseying again. " Hoity-toity, mistress, I am nothing of the kind ! " he cried, not so much displeased at being mis- taken for what he was not. " Yea, thee is. Lawk ! Can I not see it in the trick of thine eye, the tie of thy queue, the elegance of thy whole aspect? " And Pamela dropped him another most reverential curtsey. 'He encountered a little maiden all in grey." PAMELA CONGREVE 137 " Damme ! " whispered Sir Thomas to himself, " I'll see how it feels to be a manager." Then with added pompousness : " Ah-hem ! what can I do for you ? " " Everything," answered she. " I am come up to London, a runaway from home, to make my fortune with world's people. They said the surest road to 't was the theatre; they said thee was the man to tell me what to do. Will thee ? " pleaded the puss. " That will I, all in my power ! " replied the baronet, now strutting with such dignity that Kitty almost choked on the lace veil she stuffed into her mouth to restrain her mirth. " What's your ahem, name? " " Pastorella. What's thy name? " queried she in turn. " I am Sir Thomas Trevor of Harlowe House, Surrey, at your service," he answered with a salute that would have done no discredit to his early youth. Pamela nodded, then, untying her bonnet strings as she went, she fetched an ottoman across to where Sir Thomas stood, motioned him to a chair and seated herself on the lowly cushion beside him. " Now, Thomas," said she, as the old man men- tally congratulated himself on the prerogatives of a manager, quite forgetting that it was a Quakeress 138 PAMELA CONGREVE that addressed him thus ; " Thomas, prithee tell me all the things I shall have to learn to become one of thy company of players ? " "Ecod!" gasped Sir Thomas, " Pastorella," fairly flushing at his own splendid audacity, " you have the first step well taken, you are beautiful." It was said in a whisper, for across Sir Thomas' vision, charmed though it was, there arose, even at this point, a mirage of what might be were his lady ever to find out this encounter. "Lawk!" cries Pamela, "Thomas, thee is jest- ing." And every " Thomas " that she uttered merely put him into the deeper state of that paradise which is the fool's and the wise man's alike, when a woman makes it so. " Thomas, what else, what else? " she urged. " Can you dance? " asked he. " Oh, nay, Thomas, that were wicked." " Play the harpsichord, or sing? " " Nay, both of 'em open gates to perdition," she answers with an air of deep solemnity. "Paint your face?" added the baronet, with a glance at Meg's mess of rabbit's foot and carmine, and actually experiencing a thrill of joy at his own temerity of speech. PAMELA CONGREVE 139 " Nay, Thomas ! that were indeed to sell myself to Satan," and with one small finger she rubbed the rouge from her cheek and painted a spot on her ker- chief, smiling to herself. " Can you sigh, Pastorella ? " " Aye ! " and she sighed most mournfully, topping it off with such a glance as threw Kitty into a fresh fit of mirth behind the walls of Troy, and set Sir Toby shivering anew. " Can you," Sir Thomas thumped his cane ag- gressively, cleared his throat loudly, as if to say " who's afraid ! " and then went on boldly, " Pas- torella can you ogle ? " " Ogle ? " repeated Pamela, as if puzzled and shak- ing her pretty head. " Ogle? Nay, Thomas, I can- not ogle. I know not even what it is to ogle but, sit down, prithee," plucking lightly at his sleeve, for he had risen in his excitement, " and, Thomas, now teach me how to ogle ! " At this juncture the walls of Troy shook, scatter- ing dust in the eyes of the pair concealed behind them. Both sneezed. Pam, quick as a flash, sneezed in concert, yet Sir Thomas was a bit disconcerted and went pounding up the room. " Damnation ! " he burst out. 140 PAMELA CONGREVE Then Pam stopped her ears, horrified. " I'll gallop the road to kisses if I look into her eyes again," thought Kitty's father as he paced, pompous, proper, up and down ; recalled to his senses and his mission by the further squeak of Troy's walls beneath his daughter's weight. " Go seek Mistress Congreve, girl. She'll teach you that deviltry of ogling to your fill ! " " Is she the devil ? " asked Pam, her suppressed mirth almost beyond her control. " The devil she is ! bewitching the town and all the men in it ! " The baronet gave a loud rap on Mis- tress Congreve's door to mark his speech. " Thomas ! " Pam utters his name softly. " Thomas ! " says she a bit louder. " Thomas ! " repeats the mischief, standing in front of him, her bonnet twirling at its strings before her. " Is this Mistress Congreve more bewitching than I am ? " and all the light of her splendid blue eyes shone full up into his face. " Zounds ! she cannot be ! " cries he in ecstasy. " I never saw her, but listen, Pastorella, you must come to Harlowe House for the Christmas holidays. I swear to you I am no manager, but I have a daugh- PAMELA CONGREVE 141 ter Kitty, who shall love you. Young gallants, Rawdon, Harlowe, Spencer, shall teach you the con- tredanse. Will you come?" " Thomas," answers she, " if you leave me now and go find Mistress Congreve whom you were seeking when I came in, I'll come ! " Then, like a flash, she was off to the wings. " Congreve ! the minx, the hussy ! the ogler, the syren! That will I as different she from Pas- torella as night from day. I'll go find her, to her cost ! " and Sir Thomas ran out into the corridor. His back was no sooner turned than out popped Kitty from Troy's ruins, dragging Toby in her wake, and Pam peeped in from the side ; and such a meeting was there between these three of wit, merri- ment, plan, plot, and youthful spirits as was never heard before, with Kitty swearing Pam must really come for the holidays ; Pam thanking Kitty for her goodness, Toby on the watch tower, terror written in his waxen features, yet still heroically eager to do Kitty's will. Then Pam secreted the pair on a step-ladder be- hind Troy's walls to watch the play, and as Jess called her, tripped off to show London town, the King and Court, how Pastorella should be played. CHAPTER XIV THE ADORABLE CAPTAIN MIRABEAU BEAUCLERC met Sir Thomas at the door and had much sport in luring him once again to White's. The hunchback had had speech already with Lady Betty and her aunt at the door of their chair, and, not knowing of Kitty's opportune arrival on the scene, was beside himself with anxiety lest Pamela should be met and flouted, unprepared, by this brace of irate ladies. In vain he essayed, once Sir Thomas was safe in White's at a game of whist, to reason their lady- ships out of their purpose and the precinct. While the elder was but too ready to go home faster than she came, Betty was not to be moved, and swore she'd not sleep again until she'd beheld Mistress Congreve at short range ; nor would she permit Beauclerc to leave her, but bespoke his arm to lead her to the greenroom. " Tush, aunt ! " she said ; " hold your peace. Sit 142 PAMELA CONGREVE 143 still in the chair, since you're afraid to follow my lead. 'Twill not be long, I promise you, ere I've made the hussy understand her place. Now, Mr. Beauclerc, sir, if you please." She laid a plump hand upon the poet's arm, and out she tripped. He trusted to be able to involve his fair companion in some labyrinthine spot behind the scenes, and there to cage her while he went forth seemingly to seek and fetch Pamela, but in reality to warn her. Lady Betty upheld her skirts most loftily, and went forward with her nose sky-tilted and a sneer upon her handsome lips. " Sir, is this the place the wench frequents ? " she asked, stepping ahead of the hunchback, unabashed by the strangeness of the place, peering well into the greenroom, which, as luck and Beauclerc's prayers had it, was quite empty. " A most vile environment ! " she added, inspecting the place with a malicious scrutiny. " 'Tis here, Lady Betty, that the noblest gentle- men in England deign to tread and count it honour," said he, walking up close to the walls of Troy, be- hind which were the steps containing Kitty and Toby. As he stood, a fan attached to a ribbon fell before 144 PAMELA CONGREVE his face. He glanced up as it was quickly with- drawn. Lady Betty was reading the name on Pam's door. Beauclerc beheld Kitty peeping over the walls. " Go ! " she cried under her breath. " Mistress Congreve's all armed cap-a-pie for Betty's coming. Get you gone, sir, and leave the two to fight their battle," and down the mischief ducked, leaving the poet convulsed with amazement and mirth. " I swear ! " said Lady Betty, " 'tis a hell-hole. Did my Uncle Thomas know my aunt was ever so near it as she is, he'd divorce her on the spot/' " Aye ! " returned the hunchback. " Mr. Beauclerc, why does she not come forth ? I've sent in from the curb now by one they called her porter. She should appear before me at once." Betty now grew impatient, as the tapping of her foot upon the floor plainly showed. " I pledge you my word, my lady, if you will but stop here long enough, la Congreve's bound to pass this way. You're not afraid? I'll leave you and return anon to fetch you," answered Beauclerc, now at the very verge of laughter; for both Kitty and Toby were bobbing up and down as Lady Betty's motions would allow, with gestures that showed their intense amusement and impatience for the fray. PAMELA CONGREVE 145 " Afraid ! " echoed Betty. " Sir, you mistake me strangely. Pray, go and tell my aunt I'm aching for the encounter." The poet went willingly enough. " S'lif e ! The minx ! the low-lived sly-boots ! which way comes she? " Lady Betty now knocked so heavily upon Troy's walls that she set Sir Toby's teeth chattering once more. " I would I knew that I might the better set my face against the vile and im- portuning baggage." Then came a figure, gallant from the crown to heel, cautiously from the shadowy places at the right, opposite where Lady Betty had gone exploring a dashing young buck accoutred in scarlet and white satin, gold lace, point de Paris, a wig as white as powder could make it, a sword now swinging free of its scabbard and jewelled at the hilt, fobs and seals dangling, as well as a most impudent glass stuck in the corner of his eye. This gallant figure sought the mirror at once, and assumed before it a pose as if saluting at the least a lady of quality. " Ha, sapristi! What a man am I ! " said he. " Your servant, Captain Mirabeau. How do I re- semble a veritable coxcomb, by my life. A man of 146 PAMELA CONGREVE vogue ! a macaroni, a buck of the first water ! " Pam, for the first time in her career in man's attire, fell on one knee before the looking-glass and care- fully inspected herself. " Who'd ever guess that beneath these ruffles and furbelows beat a heart that sometimes ached? Oh, London town! ribbons and fallals; readin', writin', learnin', Pam's got 'em all and much beside." The encounter with Sir Thomas had set her thoughts backward on the dial, and the madcap spirit for a moment forsook her. She rose from her knee and stood irresolute, leaning on her rapier. Should she run off and away to the wings now and wait her cue, leaving this Lady Betty to her own devices? Who might Lady Betty be? Since Sir Thomas had proved to be a personage out of her past, was it not reasonable that his niece might like- wise turn out one of those great ladies who were in his company at the Greene Shippe long ago? Even while Pam pondered a clatter of tongues and shouts of laughter reached her ears, over which rang out a lively scream. Lady Betty, in her investigations, had penetrated to the spot where the Quakers of one play were occu- pied in transforming themselves into the French sol- PAMELA CONGREVE 147 diery of another, making not the least account of her presence. So she screamed, turned to flee, took the wrong passage, was not too gently turned about by the supe she ran into, and found herself spinning back into the greenroom in a temper which it would have been hard to match. Pam moved up as Lady Betty came twirling down, but she saw the face as she stood concealed by the screen at the farther end. It was a face she had seen before a face that recalled Pelham to her, and made her pause anew : made her draw away with a shiver. Then Jess peeped around from the other wing, and whispered, pointing down to Lady Betty, who was in a paroxysm, " Quick, madam, quick ! " " The quicker the better, say I ! " answered Pam, all the intense gaiety of half her nature called into sudden impetuosity by Lady Betty's speech. She motioned Jess away. Lady Betty, now mastering her tears, cried, shak- ing her fist at Pam's door: "So, it's thence she'll come to learn her lesson! I'll teach her to wile away all hearts. She'll be affrighted at my sum- mons, doubtless, and come with curtseyings, cozen- ings; I'll show her the road to trembling by the righteous sharpness of my speech. I wonder what 148 PAMELA CONGREV ( E does she look like? Painted, plastered, a thing of frills and feathers, perfumed like the civet cat. Ugh ! " And Betty flirted her handkerchief across her face with an expression of disgust, all uncon- scious of an excellent imitation by Pamela. " Sim- pering, silly," she continued. " La ! la ! la ! " Her voice grew higher and louder as she now sought Pam's door and beat vehemently upon it. " Come out, I say ! " " I come ! " called Pamela lustily, as she rushed to the side of the angry visitor, her rapier waving above her head, her eyes sparkling, and her lips curving with more than a suggestion of laughter. Then, with a strong foreign accent to her words, " Sacre-e-e-e, madame ! Who ees eet dares molest a ladi in deestress ? " Pamela crossed and recrossed the room, turning about in search of a supposed as- sailant, while Lady Betty, thrown into a fresh flut- ter, surreptitiously sought the mirror to compose her features. " Le Capitaine Mirabeau ! " continued Pamela, with a fine flourish of rapier to sheath, hat under arm, hand upon heart, bowing profoundly before her ladyship. Whatever memory of her first meeting with Betty lay in her brain, there was no hint of it PAMELA CONGREVE 149 on the radiant countenance which now confronted Sir Thomas' lively niece. " Le Capitaine Mirabeau of ze guard of his Majeste ze Keeng of France ees evair ze protector of beauty een misfortune ! " Such a glance as would have melted a less inflammable heart than Lady Betty's went with this speech, delivered in a bewitching ac- cent that did great credit to the instructions of Mon- sieur Gimbart. " Monsieur ! " exclaimed her ladyship, " I am but too grateful. I am Lady Betty " " Ah, madame, no matter who you are you are beautiful eet ees enough! Now, madame, I im- plore you to tell me where ees ze man who frightened you when I entair ? " Such martial bravery now spoke in Pam's mien as made even the Amazonian Betty quail. " For," continued Pam, " when I see heem, I keel heem ! " " Ah, monsieur, I was needlessly alarmed ! " Betty answered, praying Heaven to keep the actress bag- gage out of the way. " 'Twas a person of no ac- count, no one." " Ha ! ha ! well for heem ! " cried Pam, " for, mi- ladi, you see zis sword? Wiz heem I keel fourteen offi- 150 PAMELA CONGREVE cairs, twenty-three men, ten tigers, seven lions, five anacondas! Sacre, when I am excited! I scattair ze death so : ze right and ze left ! " Pam picked up a pack of cards from the top of the bass drum, and sent them deftly whirling up the room in a shower. " You see? You may confide yourself to Mirabeau." And she bent on Betty the tenderest glances. " I am sure of it ! " returned the fickle Betty, her mind made up within the minute to cut the recreant Pelham and the dawdling Harlowe with this new French blade. It was not long before she had led the conversation artfully to the point she wished to reach. " Sir, my aunt, Lady Trevor, will be here anon to fetch me, and I will present you to her. I do pledge myself she shall be but too eager to win the consent of so distinguished a visitor to spend some time with us at Harlowe House." Then, indeed, Troy's wall quaked ! But Betty was too deep in her scheme to mind a trifle of that kind, and she bent gracious eyes on Pam, and even pressed ever so little the hand that raised her own to Mira- beau's lips. " Miladi," answered Pamela, " wis ze greatest pleasure I accept, eef you pairmit me to say I cannot PAMELA CONGREVE 151 come before ze holidays, what you call? Noel! ah, ze Chreesmas, yais ! " " With all my heart ! " cried Betty, instantly ,plan- ning for every gallant she knew to be asked to Har- lowe for Yule-tide. Yet, envious as a true coquette of the least hint of anything that may be taking precedence of herself, she added : " Will not Monsieur Mirabeau tell me what or who 'tis detains him up in town from now till the holidays, some three months off?" " Ze engagement, madame, ze affaire ; I come from France to see ze life of your grand monde, ze rout, ze ridotto, ze Vauxhall, ze Court, ze theatre. ze " Ah, the theatre ! Have you seen the Congreve? " asked Betty, her dark brows contracting. " Nevair, madame ! " answered Pam. " And you ? " "Not I!" returned Betty. "Report hath her beautiful." " Ah, zey tell me zat to-night she look precisely like a man," retorted Pam, brimming with her mis- chief, edging up to Troy, and rapping the walls to such a tune as set Sir Toby shivering again. " Aha ! " smiles Lady Betty, well pleased at this account. " One of your teasing, swearing, hoyden 152 PAMELA CONGREVE sort ? " And she thought, " No gallant will ever stick long to such." Then Pam: "Parbleu! S'death! Egad! Zounds! By Heavens, madame, yais! She do just like zat! I swear ! by gad ! " And Captain Mirabeau pranced up and down the greenroom at such a pretty pace as set the dust flying and Betty's heart going with " Monsieur, can la Congreve dance ? " asked she. " I have never seen her do so," answered Pam. " But madame weel geeve me ze promise to dance wis me on ze Chreesmas Eve ? " " That will I with all my heart," replied her lady- ship tenderly, when in upon this pretty scene flounced my Lady Trevor. Then there were presentations and bowings, curtseyings, mutual delights, invitations, acceptances. They were broken by the quick en- trance of the call boy with a word to Pam : " Mira- beau, the stage waits for you ! " " Mesdames, you hear? " said Pamela, sending the boy flying with a merry prick of her weapon. " Ze stage coach waits ! " A kiss upon Lady Trevor's hand, its mate upon Betty's. " Eet takes me to fight a duel ! " Screams from both the fair ones greeted this an- PAMELA CONGREVE 153 nouncement, Betty's coupled with a promise to swoon, of which she thought better when she saw Mirabeau's arms were not outstretched. " Ha ! fear not ! " Pam kissed her finger-tips, and poured all the glamour of her eyes straight into Betty's own. " Fear not, sweet miladi, I keel heem every night from now teel Chreesmas. Au revoir, a bientot! " CHAPTER XV THE DEED TO HARLOWE HOUSE 1 , to the tune of " Marlborough's Man a-Courting Went," Pamela made her en- trance from the greenroom to the waiting stage. Presently, the innocent ladies could hear the applause in thunders, little guessing their cause that King, Prince, and Courtiers were beholding Mirabeau for the first time in their lives, too. Lady Betty, settling her furbelows, looked up at her aunt's query, " Well, niece, you've seen the Con- greve? " " La, aunt, no ! with such a beau as this French gallant, I thanked Fate she kept to her room. Lis- ten, I've planned how to bring Pelham to his senses, and Harlowe, too. We'll have a party at the holi- days, with Mirabeau for the lodestone, and trust me, I'll so play off my card from across the Channel, as will set them to their paces, if there's any heart in 'em at all." 154 PAMELA CONGREVE 155 "If there isn't, what then?" inquired Lady Trevor guilelessly. " Damnation ! madam, as my Uncle Thomas says," cried Betty. " What d'ye mean? " " I mean," retorted the older lady, " you're here to clap a stop on the actress jade, and you're moved off your purpose by the first gallant you encounter. I mean that if by coquetting with Mirabeau you hope to bring down Pelham or Harlowe, you're mis- took. They're both too deep in their adoration of la Congreve. I have it direct from Mr. Beauclerc. None knows the gossip of the town so well ! I mean," concluded Lady Trevor, her voice rising, as is the fashion with many ladies, to match the overflow of their tempers. " I mean you've brought your aunt into an accursed hole of Satan's own domain, where, if my poor dear Sir Thomas were to know " And at this instant, while Troy's walls cracked ominously, and four eyes peered through the chink, were heard advancing footsteps, the well-known thump of a cane. Lady Trevor and Lady Betty popped on their masks, and shrank down in a corner of the greenroom as Sir Thomas entered, blustering, Godfrey Gimbart at his heels in unavailing remon- strance. 156 PAMELA CONGREVE " 'Tis Mistress Congreve I will see now, sirrah," cries he. " If you lock the doors you lock me inside, but I'll view the hussy ere I sleep to-night ! " Then rang out, from the house beyond, the wildest sort of applause. Then the lutes and viols played their bravest; posies fell thickly upon the stage; then the soul of the manager was filled with joy; and in the midst of all this hubbub in rushed Pamela to the greenroom, her quick eye taking in the whole scene. Down she ran to Sir Thomas, her hands meekly crossed upon her breast, notwithstanding Mirabeau's garments, and she said : " So thee shall, Thomas, so thee shall!" " Thou ! Damnation ! This is monstrous ! Where am I? " The testy baronet floundered from side to side of the room, until he brought up in touch of his lady's swishing taffetas. " Where are ye? " cried she, snatching off her mask, now intent only upon the confusion of her lord. " You're here in the greenroom of a theatre, cruel, infamous, deceitful ! " " Tut, tut, my lady ! " returned Sir Thomas, planting his stick. " By my life ! now where are you? " PAMELA CONGREVE 157 " Sacre-e-e, madame ! " cried Pam, rushing to the rescue, while the walls of Troy fell in final ruin, and in trooped Harlowe, Beauclerc, and Rawdon, with a dozen more young gentlemen of the highest fashion. " Mirabeau count ze hours until he go to ze Har- lowe House to spend ze Chreesmas wis you," kissing Betty's finger-tips as before, " and Thomas ! " There were shouts now from the house of: " Con- greve ! Congreve ! Congreve ! " and the call boy made a dash to pull Pam away, while Doddington and Jess were cloaking her. " If you be she," said Betty, with a new sternness, " 'twill be for your good that you never dare show your face within a mile of Harlowe House, you jade!" " Tush, Betty," said her uncle, clapping his hand over her mouth, and, for his pains, getting a bite from her sharp, white teeth. " Your pardons all," now said Harlowe, " but lend me your presence for a moment longer only. Mis- tress Congreve, is it allowed one to ask you if you've yet read the letter sent you to-night in a nosegay ? " " That I have not," answered Pamela, " nor did I even know there was one. Jess, girl, fetch me the letter." 158 PAMELA CONGREVE Harlowe waited till it was in her hands, and then continued gravely, " Read it aloud now, if you will." " 'Tis no letter ! " cried Pam, in amazement, " but rather a deed." " To Harlowe House ! " the Duke added. " Our house ! " exclaimed Lady Trevor. " Nay, madam, not ours, as you're well aware, but rented, and in arrears; and out we go at once." And Sir Thomas, lost between the delight of his wife's confusion and the doubtful balance of his own position, pounded the floor uproariously. Pamela raised her hand to beg for silence, all the mischief dying out of her eyes, as she took in the sorry situation brought about by her mirthful wager. " Nay, Sir Thomas Trevor and my lady, tarry, tarry as long as ye will, I pray you, for I can live nowhere but in London, even should I accept his Grace's gift to the player. But I will go down at Christmas-tide, as I have promised ye all." And then the applause in the greenroom echoed as loud as that without. " Sweet ladies, fair sirs, fail me not every one that's here to-night; be there when I come, if ye love me or, if ye love me not," she added with a PAMELA CONGREVE 159 smile at Betty. " I swear this one I bid you to '11 be the merriest Christmas of any you did ever see." From behind the crumbling ruins of the Trojan citadel Kitty jumped out, dragging Toby by the ear, and kissed Pamela and hugged her, while Sir Thomas, meek and dejected, was led away out of the pit of perdition by his lady, assisted by Betty, making the best of it as she could ; all thanking Fate they were not to be turned out of doors yet awhile. CHAPTER XVI THE PARAMOUNT THIED PAM went home with Godfrey and Jess, as her custom was, the two pairs of pattens click- ing on the wet pavements,the lad carrying above his mistress' head an immense oilskin umbrella, one of the few then to be seen in London. The Duke of Harlowe's invitation to supper had been declined, and his Grace, with Rawdon and Beau- clerc, were fain to content themselves by turning back to White's, where, as a matter of course, Lord Charteris was already at it with commerce and a thousand guineas in the pool. " Your servant, sirs," he said, as the trio entered and seated themselves near him for a game of ombre. " Ha, Charteris ! " cried Rawdon, " I thought you begged me most abjectly for a presentation to Mis- tress Congreve in the greenroom to-night. Why were you not there? " 160 PAMELA CONGREVE 161 " I'd a fancy for putting off the pleasure," re- turned the other, his tone careless, but his shrewd eye taking a top peep at his opponent's hand while he spoke. " Is't not the manner of an epicure to procrastinate for his choicest morsel, in order that his palate may be whetted to the highest pitch by that sharpest of all lances, impatience? Eh, Beau- clerc, have I not the right of it? " Beauclerc did not reply at once. In Harlowe's eyes the fire flashed. To hear Pam- ela spoken of thus, in a tone of half -derisive im- pudence, sent his right hand to his hilt, and, had he not dreaded the entangling of her name with this blackguard's, as he mentally called him, blood would have spilled within the quarter hour. " Indeed, my lord," now spoke the hunchback, " during your absence abroad, London has come to think la Congreve needs no whet ! 'Tis a lady most fine, adorable, and beautiful in every way." " Ha ! " laughed Charteris, as he raked in his winnings, " 'pon my life ! our poet's in the meshes deep, it seems." " Too deep, sir, for jest," and the pale face of the hunchback became paler. " What says his Grace of Harlowe? " inquired 162 PAMELA CONGREVE Charteris, surveying the Duke with a stare of sub- dued interest. " On what subject, sir? " asked Harlowe. " The one under discussion." " Name it." There was a hint of danger in the Duke's intonation, but the poet's lean hand was laid upon his knee, and he strove to compose himself. " The newest mode in players ! " smiled Pelham. "La Congreve; what is your opinion of her, eh?" The tone is one of covert insult, but his Grace is de- termined that no quarrel shall arise upon Pamela. " Too complex and too perfectly respectful, my lord, to bandy about a gambling table." Charteris' eyebrows lift, and he smiled ambigu- ously. " This lady's parts, forsooth, seem to enchain the flower of the ton. S'death! gentlemen, what's the peculiar fascination of her? Come you, sir poet, let us hear. Is it beauty, wit, merely youth and spirits, or what, that crowns her quite a nonesuch in your estimation? " " She has youth, prettiness," Beauclerc was glad to have the chance to take the burden of the response upon himself for more reasons than one. " By my faith, a most engaging pair, but la Con- PAMELA CONGREVE 163 greve possesses, sir, that paramount third that never has been defined, the quintessence men call, for lack of other way to name it, Charm: without which no woman, however beautiful, is aught else than your dull, insufferable, deadly average." There was a heavenly glow upon the thin face as Beauclerc spoke, a something that transfigured all his homely features. There was a pause in even the rattle of the dice-boxes, and then the applause rang out, and an enthusiastic youngster cried: " Sir, you should be laureate were I King ! " A hundred voices shouted, " Aye, aye ! " and a bumper was drunk to Beauclerc in Burgundy ; Charteris drinking the deepest and shouting the loudest. But every vein in Harlowe's body ached to stretch itself and measure its power with the man whom instinctively his Grace knew for his enemy from this hour. Beauclerc looked at his friend: he saw the storm rising, and determined to do all in his power to allay it so he sang out lightly as the laughter subsided: " Now, Charteris, since I've complied with your de- sire, pray you, sir, tell us all here, your friends and comrades, what it was took you so suddenly out of 164 PAMELA CONGREVE England and kept you in France until a few weeks since? " " Aye, aye ! " cried the whole company. " Come, Charteris ! " called Rawdon, young and ripe for a romance ; the kind of dear fellow who saw the fringe of a pretty petticoat swishing behind every move a man made. " Come, now ! was it not for a lady's sake you fled away ? " There was a slight pause, cards held high, and boxes silent, lips apart, two dozen pairs of eyes ex- pectant, fixed on Charteris' handsome face. He smiled. " You mean, Rawdon, the mystery of the stab I got in my ribs at the Greene Shippe more than a twelvemonth since, and self -banishment into France, eh? " he asked deliberately. Lord Rawdon nodded, and still the dice were quiet, and the eyes fixed. " Well, my lords and gentlemen, I do confess 'twas for sake of a lovely face I quitted England. Noth- ing out of the ordinary, I do assure you; a tale every man of ton knows by heart ; a kiss, and some- thing more, satiety, disappearance; an unexpected meeting at an inn." Charteris laughed unpleasantly as he threw down his cards. " Recriminations, PAMELA CONGREVE 165 threats, attempted murder! Zounds, sirs! were not absence and silence the better part, if I would pre- sume to woo an adorable lady ? " He raised his glass to his lips, and at the signal every gentleman did the same. " Here's to Lady Betty Wyndham ! " he concluded seriously. " By my life ! " cried Harlowe, " I do remember seeing a girl there near you, where you lay when I entered ! " Charteris turned paler than his wont, his hand shook, but he squared around, and looked steadily into the Duke's face. In that second of palpitating uncertainty he had much to think of. But Harlowe was still speaking. " I descried not her face." Charteris did not move a muscle, but the peril was past, and his breath came more freely. " She would not turn her head, even at my entreaties. Was it she ? " he added. He could not have told why he put the question; it was one of those impulses toward the fulfilment of Destiny's wild schemes to which we are all mere servants. " Yes," replied Charteris with a shrug. " It was she. She was beautiful, and, I believe, true to me." His curving mouth droops into a smile of supreme self-satisfaction. 166 PAMELA CONGREVE " What's become of her? " gasped the young Ro- mantic, importunate for a sentimental ending. " Tush, Rawdon, lad ! " and Harlowe laid a re- straining hand on his junior's arm. " Let alone ! " cried Charteris. " A proper ques- tion, sir, and easily answered, for I fancied an hour ago only I recognised her among the sirens of the stage. Perhaps, who knows? I'll get the chance of er renewing old associations." There was such a sneer in the tone as moved Har- lowe's hand once more toward his hilt. Always a knight errant, ready to fight a woman's battle, be she who she might, he was insensibly eager to cross swords with this man. He felt in his blood a tingling itch to run him through, and nothing now was to hold him back. All the while, too, he saw Pamela's face before him, and he said quietly to the Earl: " Why not marry her? " The silence of expectation in the room grew more intense. Beauclerc's arm was laid in warning upon Harlowe's shoulder, only to be shaken off; and the one man there who seemed absolutely unmoved was Lord Charteris. He had no mind to be laid up with a wound, and so done out of the future he had planned with Pam- PAMELA CONGREVE 167 ela; no mind for anything but to lay hands on all the money he could get, go to her, and lay his heart at her feet ; for he was more her passionate adorer now than ever he was in the old days. He answered Harlowe, therefore, with a derisive, compassionate smile. " What a devilish fine business the parsons and the ring-makers 'd do, Harlowe, if you had the rul- ing of us men of fashion, ha ! ha ! ha ! " " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " echoed all down the room. Beauclerc whispered to Harlowe : " For God's sake, out of this. Tarry not a mo- ment longer, for, on my life, if you do, Charteris may drag her name into any quarrel that ensues, and that, although she's never seen him, would be dam- nable. Come ! " Harlowe put the hunchback gently aside; he sheathed his rapier ; took up his hat, and crossed to where Charteris sat lolling in defiant, careless ease: " Sir," said he, " it is too evident you are shy of a challenge to-night. Every gentleman here can bear me witness to this fact. 'Tis well I leave you without one, but, by Gad! my Lord Charteris, the next time we sit at table you'll not get off so easily ! Our meeting's but postponed, sir, not annulled, and if you will have a cause for our quarrel, 'tis this 168 PAMELA CONGREVE I'll fight for the nameless girl who by your own show- ing was true to you. Your servant, my lord ! " He bowed to the ground, saluting the whole company with one courteous, " Gentlemen ! " and, linking arms with the poet, left the room. Charteris laughed loud and long when once the door was closed. "By my faith, now, will you?" said he between his shut teeth. CHAPTER XVII THE HOUR BEFORE THE DAWN WHEN the two gentlemen went out from White's, by a common impulse their footsteps turned in the direction of the river, down Gooseberry Lane, passing Monsieur Gimbart's shop, and thence to the gardens on the bank. The rain had ceased, the mists hung low, the soft plashing of the tide against the little pier was the one sound to break the silence, for every reveller had long since gone, and not a light shone from any win- dow but one. Both men saw it, and knew in whose casement it flickered. Their arms parted; the Duke turned up the path, while the hunchback set his face the other way. They could not speak to each other of her whose image filled both their hearts. It was a curious friendship, for while each well knew the measure of 169 170 PAMELA CONGREVE the other's passion, this bred no angry rivalry, but the rather a strange sympathetic comradeship, which was as admirable as it was rare. It is true that a man like Harlowe, so handsome in face, figure, and mien, could hardly have felt the pangs of jealousy to the cause of a misshapen creature like Beauclerc; yet a young gentleman in love is as apt to be jealous of one as of another. As for the poet, his was a mind of infinite justice, which could sit apart in judgment on his own heart and body; his passion of love was overwhelming, but his passion of solicitude for the loved one no whit less. To Beauclerc nothing in this world was so desirable as Pamela's happiness. He knew it was not for him to make it; he hoped for nothing; so far as he knew himself, even in his thoughts, to be the Duke's rival was no part of his fancies. If she smiled upon him, he basked in the sunshine, for she never frowned his way ; if she forgot him, well, some day, perhaps, she would re- member him again. And ever through his mind there ran the old-time tale of that fair lady, who, when she had teased every gallant at the Court and torn their hearts to shreds with her caprices, at last gave her whole self into the keeping of a gentleman more ill-favoured than himself. It was this conceit that PAMELA CONGREVE 171 kept Beauclerc sane and able to lead his life; but Beauclerc did not know it. He paced up and down close to the water's edge; lines in praise of Pamela chasing each other through his brain, mingled with contemptuous remembrance of Charteris' chatter. Harlowe walked farther and farther away from his companion, his eyes riveted on Pam's window, where the lamp shone. He even fancied he beheld her figure, softly clad in clinging white, gleaming in a slip of the moonshine, for now the cloud had passed, and already in the East was rosy preparation for the marriage of Dawn and Night. Soon his steps led him to that end of the Sweet- Acre which bordered the Thames. It was the work of but a moment to vault the wall and gain the narrow path, his eyes still upon her casement. Suddenly the lamp went out. The square of case- ment which had held his eyes was blank, and all was silence. Presently this was broken by the slow turning of a key. The Duke stood still, his hand upon his hilt, lest this unlocking should be a threat of ill from without. Soon he saw it was not. The near door opened and a woman's figure emerged. By the light of the large moon, and the hint of the day to 172 PAMELA CONGREVE come, he saw her well, except her face, a serving wench, doubtless, clad in blue linsey, with cloak and hood close drawn, footsteps cautious, head once turned backward, fearing detection, as his Grace's heel ground upon a pebble. Then on she sped across the breadth of the Sweet-Acre to Monsieur Gimbart's corner, Harlowe after her merely for youth and high spirits, and that inborn thirst for the chase which animates some men, even when they know not the nature of the game, and would not crave it if they did. But the girl in the linsey frock outstripped the Duke, and by the time he reached the Square all he caught was a glimpse of her turning down toward the city. He laughed as he paused, breathless, at his own folly; then set out at a swinging pace back to the river to seek Beauclerc, and, not finding him, thence to his own house in St. James'. CHAPTER XVIII ALL IN A CARRIER'S CART WENT SHE WHEN Pam had reached the house in Gooseberry Lane after the theatre that night, she sent Jess off to her slumbers, latched her door,- and sat down on the edge of her bed, the lamplight revealing a very perturbed countenance. The splendid cloak and veil, the stage jewels, the laces, the posies, even that which the Duke had sent, were all tossed here and there about her chamber. In her hand she held the deed to Harlowe House, and in her heart the image of the giver. A thousand thoughts flew, one after the other, through her head. Since Fate had once more brought her into contact with these people who were Pelham's friends, why had she not had the courage to ask them of his whereabouts, and so learn if he were dead or living? If he were dead, then farewell forever to even the name of happiness; if he were living, well, what then? Was there not something back yonder, swinging by the sea, that struck at her heart and her 173 174 PAMELA CONGREVE hopes, with every wind that beat it back and forth? Was there not something in the past that forbade her to think of a future? She nodded her head, and folded up the deed. He had told her it was his betrothal gift to his lady ; he had refused to take " No " from her lips ; he had sworn she should be his ; he had vowed he would wait until the world's end but he would win her, and a hundred more foolish fond persuasions, old as the earth and sky, but somehow sweeter, each one thinks, than ever they have been before. She put the deed in the bosom of her smock; she blew out the lamp, opened the casement, leaned out into the damp air, her white indistinct figure shining in the film of moonlight sliding down the house. Then Pam breathed more freely ; then she felt her- self getting away from it all, the trackings and the gewgaws, and the tinsel laughter and tears, and spites and triumphs, and pities of her London world; felt falling from her the mask of all she had learned, all she'd done, felt once more the anxious thrilling hunger for the good brown earth, the deep salt sea. In some way she was sure, once away from London, she would be better able to fight the bitter duel between her past and her future. PAMELA CONGREVE 175 She drew in, with the fever unslaked in her veins, yet now with a definite purpose in her mind. She relighted her lamp, slipped off her costly garments and quick into an old linsey frock of blue, a cloak and hood of the same, rough shoes, a crimson ker- chief about her neck, her purse with a little money. No pause, no hesitance ; a girl's glance into the mirror to note how now she was once again the old Pam of the boats and the tides and the isles; then a puff at the wick, another glance out of the window, and then she was off and away. She sped noiseless, speed-shod, through the garden, then fleet as a hunted fawn up and past Monsieur Gimbart's corner into the Square. And so she came to the Cat and Fiddle, there to take seat in a carrier's cart starting at sun-up for the village of Cleeve. Pam knew it well. In the old days she had sometimes put in there with her people, and stopped ashore for a week or less, as tide and fortune directed. She would go there now, where no one knew of her changed conditions, where she could be alone. Beyond this she had no plan. To the elementary soul this absence of scheme is possible, and Pam, though she was an actress, was still at one in many senses with the earth of which she was made. As she jumped into the carrier's cart, a man 176 PAMELA CONGREVE glanced at her with curious eyes. Not catching sight of her countenance, he settled back disappointed in his chair, and while he watched her tresses streaking behind her in the turmoil of the wind, the poet plied his pencil on the edge of his broad-sheets, concocting an ode to the very locks on which his eager eyes were fixed. CHAPTER XIX 'WHERE'S PAMELA?" J*"" "^ HE afternoon of the day following the en- counter between the gallant " Captain Mirabeau " and Lady Betty Wyndham, found her ladyship dawdling over her chocolate and almond cakes with Kitty and Lady Trevor, in close confab over the events of the night before, not the least of which, one may be sure, was the matter of the deed to Harlowe House. " Of a certainty," exclaimed Betty, " none but a jade of the lowest quality would accept such a gift from any gentleman ! " " Tush, Betty," spoke her aunt. " You do mis- take and show your lack of knowledge of the ton and their ways ! 'Tis of a piece quite with customs now- a-days that any gallant may thus express his admira- tion for art by bestowing on any lady of the theatre a mansion or a park, and she none the worse, but only the richer." 177 178 PAMELA CONGREVE " Mayhap 'tis so, aunt ! perchance I know not town fashions at all ! But I do know that when this mum- mer comes to Harlowe House, out I pack, and I should hope all persons of gentle birth and breeding would follow me, if my elders do not set me the example by going now ! '* The girl set down her cup and saucer with a crash that made the tray rattle and her aunt and cousin jump. Up spoke Kitty ardently : " That will I not, either lead or follow. When Mistress Congreve comes to take possession of her own, Kitty Trevor stops as long as she's made welcome, and Sir Toby's invited, too!" " Hold your tongue, miss ! " cries Lady Trevor, " and you not yet eighteen. I swear you shall follow in our lead ! " " Then you, at least, aunt, do not purpose remain- ing at Harlowe? " asked Betty, without circumlo- cution. " Sweet niece," answered Lady Trevor, " this must be as your Uncle Thomas says." " Lud ! Madam ! " cried Betty, rising and kicking the hassock out of her path across the room. " Since when does your ladyship ' obey " your lord and mas- ter? " PAMELA CONGREVE 179 " Betty, a truce to your impertinence ! " answered the older woman. " 'Tis all very well for you, with forty thousand pounds at your back, to swear you'll quit Harlowe yet, I doubt if you can find refuge and a willing chaperon to your flyaway tempers and your guardian's consent," she added blandly, " anywhere else." " But, of a truth, aunt, you'll not stop? " " 'Tis like we shall remain, Betty, since your guar- dian and uncle's over his ears in debts ; in arrears three years for his rentals and nowhere else to go. Now, that you've got the whole truth, I trust you are satisfied. After the holidays, when Sir Thomas may have had time to adjust his affairs with the money lenders, we may settle ourselves in town, but for the present we shall stop at Harlowe House, whither we return this day." " Zounds ! " cried Betty scornfully, " that I should have to be beholden to this player for my shelter ! that I should have to remain over Christmas in her house ! I'd sooner kill myself than do it ! " " Go hang then, coz," cried Kitty. " But it might be well to pause ere you buy the rope! Listen, the Duke will Be at Harlowe House for the holidays, and can you not invite whom you will for guest? Mistress 180 PAMELA CONGREVE Congreve bade us each and all. I have asked Sir Toby already, and you may doubtless ask Lord Charteris and any other gentleman you fancy. I'll wager you all my quarter's pin-money to nothing," added Miss Slyboots, laughing, " that as Mistress Congreve's to be there, both Duke and Earl will come ! " " Take that, you imp ! " shrieked Lady Betty, aim- ing a costly cup at her cousin's head. " Ugh ! could I tear you to pieces, Kitty, 'twould suit my humour well!" " Nay," laughed Kitty, dodging the china, " if you did that, sweet coz, there'd be a funeral and no Christmas party at Harlowe ! " And off she danced, to ogle Sir Toby at the drawing-room window, know- ing her mother would be well occupied for a half-hour at least with her cousin. Lady Trevor sighed as she picked up the bits of broken Sevres. " 'Twere as well concede the facts, niece," said she, Kitty once out of hearing. " The child has the right of it. All the town's alive with the matter of Har- lowe and Mistress Congreve. She has but to nod, and he is ready to lay his ducal coronet at her feet ! " " Harlowe ! " replied the younger. " I'd spurn him if " PAMELA CONGREVE 181 " You had a chance ! " obligingly finished the aunt. " Bah, madam, a truce ! I swore to you cnce 'twas Pelham I wanted, and 'twas a true oath." " Aye, I know it ; therefore, if you're a sensible young lady, guided by prudence and discretion, you'll call in your red flag of temper, hang out the white one, and make up your mind for Harlowe House at Christmas-tide; for thither, if you invite not Char- teris, be sure the player will. Lady Hammond told me he looks at no one else ! " " Mr. Beauclerc swore that the two had never met," said Betty, dismally enough, drumming on the pane, and taking no heed of Toby kissing his fat fingers to her cousin Kitty at the casement below. " True ; but you know Charteris as well as I do. 'Twill not be long ere he becomes intimate with any lady that hath entrapped his fancy to the extent this one, report says, hath ! " " Din it not into my ears," cried Betty, distracted. " So far as I can see, this actress-woman, with her wiles, is like to rob me and all the other ladies in Lon- don of all our gallants. I wish she were at the bottom of the Channel, or somewhere that " (here the page- boy ushered in Surrey Beauclerc, but Betty's con- temptuous eloquence flowed on to the end) " that no 182 PAMELA CONGREVE one could find her! This saucy baggage of a Con- greve ! " " Ladies," said the hunchback, his hat under his arm, and a fresh print in his hand, bowing defer- entially, " your servant." " Mr. Beauclerc, sir," Lady Trevor answered with a sweep of her fan, ordering the page to fetch another plate of wafers and fill the cream jug. " Ha, Mr. Beauclerc ! " cried Betty, " I hope, sir, you bring news ! news ! news of any colour to drive away my present indisposition. Prithee," pointing to the paper in Beauclerc's hand, " what's there abroad of interest? " " Well," returned he doubtfully, as he recalled her speech at his entrance, " the town's agog from one end to the other with but one matter, fair lady." " What is it ? " they both gasped eagerly. " Has his Majesty quarrelled afresh with the Queen? Hath the Prince once more derided his royal father? Who hath sought a divorce? or who eloped with whose wife husband pray, sir, your news ? " " Of a truth," answered Beauclerc, " 'tis none of these, sweet ladies, but Heathcote, the manager of the theatre, the whole Court and quality, all the bucks and gallants, put into an extreme disorder since PAMELA CONGREVE 183 Covent Garden was closed last night, and is like to re- main so to-night." " Is Congreve dead? " cried Lady Betty, her eyes sparkling with hope. " God forbid! " ejaculated the poet earnestly, man of the world though he was, and most unlikely to hang his heart-thoughts upon his sleeve: the less so that a hope of learning something of Pamela's where- abouts had been the sole cause of his morning call upon Lady Trevor and her niece. " God forbid ! I supposed," flicking the snuff from his breeches as he took a seemingly careless pinch, " mayhap your ladyship could impart some information regarding Mistress Congreve? Hath she, peradventure, to your knowledge gone down to Harlowe? " " We know naught, Mr. Beauclerc, but I am positive she's not there, since my man Jerry is but newly come up to fetch us the week's butter and eggs, and he would have known it had a stranger arrived." " Ah, precisely so," replied the poet. " We're returning to the country to-morrow," added Lady Trevor firmly, her eye on Betty. " Yes," confirmed the niece, " but tell me, do, I 184 PAMELA CONGREVE pray, sir, how do you know that the Congreve's really disappeared? " " She's not at home at Sweet- Acre House, not at the theatre, nor does anyone know of her whereabouts. Mr. Heathcote's almost off his head and going down post-haste to Bath in quest of the Bicknell, that he may at least reopen his doors to-morrow night." Lady Betty's colour rose high, beneath even the splashes from her rouge-pots. " Mr. Beauclerc," she asked, trembling with eager- ness, and yet an ambiguous smile playing about her lips, " hath any gentleman disappeared also from his haunts?" " Nay," he returned quietly, his blood rising in his face as hotly as Lady Betty's. Then he added, looking squarely in her eyes : " His Grace of Har- lowe, I hear, goes up and down the town well-nigh distraught, seeking news of her ; and when I saw Lord Charteris at the Bedford but now, he was too deep in both his cups and his cards to understand the news." " Ah," said Betty, relieved, and again crossing to the casement; but her mind was still far away from Sir Toby flattening his nose against the opposing pane and kissing of his hand to the lively and ad- venturous Kitty below stairs. PAMELA CONGREVE 185 Presently Mr. Beauclerc took his leave; and now, throwing to the wind his mien of scant interest, he en- tered his chariot and bade the man drive fast to the Cat and Fiddle. He had suddenly remembered the carrier's cart of the early morning, the long locks of dark wind-blown hair, the unseen face, and the slender form in the coat of Norwich drug- get. In less than ten minutes, by the watch he held in his hand, he was talking with mine host of the Cat and Fiddle, and had purchased much more than a half-crown's worth of information. Emerging from the Inn, he cried to his coachman, " To the Duke of Harlowe's in St. James' Street, and quickly ! " Then, entering the vehicle, he sank back and closed his eyes in deep and anxious thought. Where had she gone, and why? Well, he would presently dis- cover that : surely before another f our-and-twenty- hours. Had someone gone to join her? Was it Harlowe, or another unknown to him? He had already seen the Duke, as he told Lady Betty. In the lobby of the theatre, at noon, he had stood with Heathcote and all the company of play- 186 PAMELA CONGREVE ers, news-gatherers, wits, and scribes as they won- dered, surmised, and exclaimed. Harlowe had been silent, pacing up and down the corridors, arms folded, brows knit, lips indrawn, all the ruddy blood forsaking his face, leaving it pinched and haggard. Beauclerc realised now that Harlowe had then made off on his horse, without so much as a nod to him or any other, not waiting for the tidings to be brought by Peter Twiss, who had posted off, waddling to Sweet-Acre House that instant, the sixth messenger to go thither from the theatre. He remembered Harlowe's expression: the beauty of his pallid countenance, the expression that im- parted to it an added charm that greatest one in women's eyes ; that tells them there is more unspoken than was ever told in words and the hunchback gritted his teeth and clenched his long hands. " Gad ! " said he thoughtfully, " a man's a man, and has his chance, albeit God hath given to one all his gifts, and to another but the art to versify! Must I go to him with all I've discovered, little clue as it is ? Nay ! if I can find her out and recover her from her disposition for secrecy, I'll do it unaided, and, mayhap, win a smile a thought ; a little speech PAMELA CONGREVE 187 wherein we shall masquerade as dear comrades to my poor ears in memory of that dear day when none other was able to spy her out save only Beauclerc." He pulled the string impatiently. " Home ! " he cried. " Not to the Duke's to-day ! " CHAPTER XX AT THE CAT AND FIDDLE WHEN his Grace of Harlowe jumped into his saddle at the kennel before the theatre, he guided his horse as rapidly as he dared in the narrow and crowded thoroughfare, to that entrance to the Sweet-Acre whence he had seen a figure emerge and flit, shunning observation, out to the Square, and then toward the city. The house-door once opened he questioned Jess. Had any of the servants, man or woman, gone off? The answer, given with many and genuine tears, was no. He stood a moment in moody silence. Then a sudden thought struck him. " Hold, lass ! Which of your mistress' clothes are missing? " " None of 'em, my lord," she sobbed. " What ! in her nightrail ? Distraught, mad* perchance or walking in her sleep ! She may be in the river ! God Almighty ! " 188 PAMELA CONGREVE 189 His face was lined and grey. " None of her duds, your Grace, is missin' but a blue linsey-woolsey frock she wears in the play of The Country Girl.' " "Ha!" " And my Norwich drugget cloak " " Go on ! go on ! " " And a red kerchief in yellow borders, your Grace, that goes with the stage frock." "Clues! clues! What shoes are missing? Any?" " Them russets as goes with the costume." " Where is Godfrey Gimbart? " " Up and off a-scouring of the bridges, a'most crazed for his mistress, as any one of us all." Sobs choked her speech for the moment. " Has the house been searched? " " Aye, from roof to cellar." " Hast heard her hint at any weariness, or mind for change and rest ? " " Nay but hark ! Here's Godfrey now, back from his search." "News?" " Nay, none." Harlowe threw a crown to Jess, and, waving her off, took Godfrey breathlessly by the arm. " Up to 190 PAMELA CONGREVE my stables, and saddle the fleetest horse I have ; then ride to every Inn in town below Cheapside where coach or carrier comes and goes, and beg or buy news as to the character and aspect of any passengers that have gone off since midnight. Cover you the district within two miles from here; I'll to further away. Meet me, if you glean but a hint of your lady, at er where will you fetch up at the last, eh? " " At the Cat and Fiddle, your Grace ; I'll go to the Tub now a beastly hole, but the Almighty alone knows what a lady will choose if she's bent on giving her friends the slip." Tears of despair stood in the lad's eyes. " Waste not a second ! " cried his Grace. " The Cat and Fiddle be it, and God grant it be soon ! " Harlowe swung himself into his saddle and made off, while Godfrey ran to the mews back of St. James', and presently emerged on the back of a finer horse than ever he had dreamed of bestriding. So these two, that pleasant autumn morning, visited between them every Inn in London the man drinking more mugs of ale than he could carry to cover his errand, the master not halting for such subterfuge, but tossing his gold out recklessly and learning not a syllable. PAMELA CONGREVE 191 Dozens of passengers had shaken the dust of grimy London from their shoes that blessed day in coaches and carts, starting out as early as three o'clock, but none of these gave promise of any lady clad as Pamela must have been. Harlowe had got through his list before Godfrey, and rode into the yard of the Cat and Fiddle two hours ahead of Pamela's porter, though four-and- twenty hours had been spent. Here, when he had almost lost heart, he was roused by tidings of a young carrier with a passenger in his cart, from Cleeve, and bound back thither with a load of creels full of foul linen to be washed there and returned, his wife being a laundress to the quality and mistress of all the arts of crimping and fluting. " Gad's life, man," interrupted his Grace. " The passenger ! the passenger ! I care not for crimps or flutes ! Pour for the company Burgundy, yes ! and tell me of the passenger ! " " A young and comely person." " Dark or fair? " " Dark her hair falling, streaking in the wind as she went through the yard." " Portmanteaux, boxes ? " 192 PAMELA CONGREVE " Nay, nothing." " Lace fall? or hood? " " Hood, aye ; no fall, but she held her head close within the hood and not much peering. Not quality ! Oh, no ! a cloak of Norwich drugget and a petticoat of blue linsey-woolsey, yes I think 'twas blue and " "What else? 'fore Heaven! What else? Aught around her throat ? " " A kerchief " hesitating. "Yes? yes? its colour, man, its colour?" " 'Twere aye, 'twere red wi' yellow borders." In a moment Harlowe was in the saddle. " Cleeve, you say? The carrier's name? Jo Fogle? There's for your trouble ! good-morrow." Off he dashed, no thought of tarrying for Godfrey, who later came galloping in, spent and wan. Away back to the mews sped the faithful porter, and on a fresh and swifter steed was soon off eastward toward the sea. It was three o'clock of the second day after Pam's disappearance when the Duke of Harlowe left the town. By chance he turned the corner by London Bridge just as Beauclerc's chariot rumbled over; the dust PAMELA CONGREVE 193 from wheels and hoofs mingled and stung the eyes of both. The chariot had to swing aside for the horseman, who was not at all disinclined to trample any obstacle in his path. He gave the lash to the poet's beasts, and as luck had it, the tang of the leather flicked the ears of another pair of horses which were dragging my Lord Charteris home, in the arms of his man, from a night of it at the Bedford. Here was as pretty a concurrent triangle of hearts as anyone could wish to observe. Harlowe took the lead and pressed onward hotly, Beauclerc at his heels, but falling into the rear by degrees. Charteris just roused himself to ask the cause of the sudden jolt and start. " His Grace of Harlowe, my Lord, and Mr. Beau- clerc." " Whither went they, you damned varlet, whither?" " Toward Surrey, my lord, ridin' an' drivin' like the devil!" " Devil take 'em, then ! " " Aye, my lord." " Fetch me up at the first tavern we pass, you scoundrel! I'm thirsty. Egad! I lost, did I not? How much, Pink? how much? I swear, 'an you kept not the tally, and I too deep in my cups to do it 194 PAMELA CONGREVE myself, you'll never get your wages, nor a character when I send you off! Eh, how much? " Charteris rolled from side to side of his coach, his head lolling on Pink's shoulder, the lace ruffles at bosom and wrists stained with wine and snuff ; his fine eyes dull, his red full lips apart, his wig tumbled off and hung up on the window-roller of the coach, bobbing as the vehicle made its way over the miserable ruts, puddles, and holes that stood for paved streets in the good old days when George the Third was King. It was indeed a sorry spectacle ; yet Charteris had been much in this condition now for eight-and-forty hours; galloping into such a pile of debts, by way of wine and cards in league, that it was hard to say how or when he would ever pay them. Pink was his master's ally as well as his valet. He answered, with a side-glance at the burden reposing on his broad shoulder, " Fifteen hundred pounds, my lord." " Fifteen hundred pounds, you infernal idiot ! " cried Charteris, rousing himself somewhat out of his stupor. " What d'ye mean ? You lie, you devil ! What d'ye suppose I keep you for? What have I taught you all the tricks of the game for if not that PAMELA CONGREVE 195 you may ply 'em when I'm drunk, or at least fetch me off in time? " " Well, my lord," returned the man, well used to such addresses, " asking your lordship's pardon and with submission, just when your lordship was a-whip- pin' out your dice-box with the false bottom from your stockin' roll, I see his Grace of Harlowe comin' in, and his eyes on your game like a flash ; it couldn't be worked " " The puppy ! " interrupts the Earl. " It couldn't be worked that time, my lord, although it were a pity, for the gentlemen as you were a-playin' with was all of a muddle and in as fine condition for pluckin' as your lordship could desire. But I stopped your lordship quick, and makin' to pick up summat as hadn't failed, I snatched the box from you and hid it in my sleeve." " Gad ! Harlowe's a sneak, a damnable sneak. How long did he stop ? " " But a short while, my lord. He's a-seekin' in- formation as to some lady or wench escaped out of town the night before." " Ha ! Women ! the dog ! He'd have had me marry well, well, one of 'em. Fifteen hundred pounds ! and I've not fifteen farthings to my name ! " 196 PAMELA CONGREVE " My lord, 'twas luck." " Luck be damned ! " shouted the Earl ; then, more quietly, sinking back in his corner, " Go on what more? " " Your lordship took the top-peep as neat as ever you did when sober, and all your lordship's cards was thumbed. Gad! my lord, askin' your lordship's pardon, I never see you play so well, but the luck wasn't with you ! " " Fifteen hundred pounds ! I'd h'ke to put you in the pillory ! " . Pink smiled with lofty security. " Nay, my lord, that would be a bad place to put me. I might squeal to the watch, how things went once on a time down Chilton ways, by the sea." " Shut your mouth, curse you ! " cried Charteris, raising his arm to strike. Pink caught it in the air above his head with a fist as strong as a vice. The two men looked in each other's eyes a moment then the Earl's arm dropped listlessly at his side. The valet laughed softly. " Your lordship was wantin' a drink of wine? " he said. " Here be the Cat and Fiddle: a fine cellar, though not a place of much repute or fashion. Will your lordship alight?" PAMELA CONGREVE 197 " Yes," replied the master. " Look you, Pink," cozening his man's arm with trembling fingers, " lend me five guineas, like a good fellow. I'm un- known here, and with a marked pack still in my stock- ing roll, can I recoup our fortunes here in this hole of common folk ? " Pink handed out the guineas and pulled the string. The coach came to a sudden halt before the Cat and Fiddle, and master and man entered the tavern. Once within, steadied by a cup of wine and re- freshed by the bathing of his head with a wet hand- kerchief, his wig set on, his ruffles pinched, and his cravat new-tied by his faithful Pink, Charteris, not- withstanding his stains and the dark circles about his eyes, presented as reputable an appearance as many another young gentleman of the time, after a night of pleasure. He came out into the room, and was presently deep engaged in as scandalous a game of loo, with as ras- cally and depraved a set of men, and women too, as ever sat down with pasteboards at a table. Ribald jests, oaths unspeakable, stories unthink- able, laughter echoing up and down the street, strong waters poured down throats that were always thirsty ; such was the entertainment. And the Earl of Char- 198 PAMELA CONGREVE teris the fop, the macaroni, the buck with the bluest blood of England in his veins, enjoyed it hugely : Pink silently watching at his side. Charteris won to the tune of five-and-twenty pounds : a bagatelle to him, a fortune to his victims, but nothing was said ; and putting out the bait of the loss of a guinea he soon had them all in the best of humours. " More wine, host ! " cried he, " more and the best ! The company here is worthy of it, I swear ! " Thus he spent nearly all his winnings to put them into a condition that should make them think little of their losses. In an hour or so Charteris had swept the green. When there was no more to win, and his companions were under the table, he paid his reckoning; then stopped to pick up a damp news-letter just thrown in by the barmaid. His eye arrested by the first lines he saw, he stopped suddenly, sank into a seat, and read: " When this sheet meets the eyes of our patrons, more than eight-and-forty hours will have passed since the extraordinary, unaccountable, and most mystifying disappearance of Mistress Pamela Con- greve. Two successive evenings now has Covent PAMELA CONGREVE 199 Garden been closed, since Mistress Bicknell persist- ently refuses to return from Bath to resume playing. Albeit the town and suburbs hath been scoured, the bell-man ringing from one end to the other, the Thames dragged, every inn, tavern, and hostelry searched, no hint or clue to the lost lady has been gained. His Gracious Majesty has been pleased to send inquiries twice a day to the playhouse for tidings, as well as their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales. It is not to be doubted also that many gentlemen of the nobility are put into a sore strait by the distressing and inexplicable occur- rence. 'Tis said at the Clubs and chocolate houses, that his Grace of H . . e hath gone quite mad and is secluded in his house in St. James under a proper re- straint " here Charteris smiled " that the Honour- able S . . . y B . . . c spends his time driving from pillar to post in vain endeavour to find some trace of her who was alike the pride of the theatre and the inspiration of some of that gentleman's best verses; that my Lord C . . . s hath not been seen in his accus- tomed haunts since the fatal news broke out ; and that ladies fair of every grade and disposition are lament- ing one of the most remarkable and unfortunate oc- currences of modern times." 200 PAMELA CONGREVE The Earl gritted his teeth together. " Gone ! " thought he, " with Harlowe ; since Harlowe's invisible and hath himself, doubtless, given out this silly tale of madness! What to do? For, by the Ruler above us, I'll have her yet, Harlowe or no Harlowe ! I have it ! " Charteris sprang up, tossing the news-sheet from him, and beckoning to Pink. A moment later he was in his chariot, flinging the order to the coachman, " To Cagliostro's in the Strand. Fast!" And from the Cat and Fiddle they went at a round pace. It was the custom of those days for all classes and conditions learned scholars, divines, scullions, and kings alike to visit the fortune-tellers; and such was the faith pinned to them that there was no lady or gentleman of any pretensions to fashion but had a favourite soothsayer, and consulted him upon every occasion, from a love affair to the purchase of a hat or a stock. Charteris, therefore, was no solecism when he sought out the renowned Cagliostro in his " Temple of Futurity." He paid his guinea, and came out though none the wiser as to Pamela. He went next to all his coffee-houses, with an appearance of calm- PAMELA CONGREVE 201 ness, for he was sober enough now he had been struck at his heart. He loved Pamela with all the passion of which he was capable, and her vanishing in this way from even his sight but whetted his longing. Everywhere he heard only amplifications of that which he had read in the public print at the shabby little Inn in Falconer's Lane. Returning to his rooms near the Temple, he said to Pink: " Did not you tell me that Harlowe was at the Bed- ford night before last, seeking tidings of some wench that had quitted the town secretly ? " " Aye, my lord, he was," answered the man with a piercing glance at his master. " Then," returned the Earl, " Pink, you may re- fresh yourself with a holiday. I'm going out of town for a few days." The man bowed obsequiously, packed his lordship's clothes, and said nothing. Charteris swore to himself he would be the first to reach Pam's side ; he believed that he knew the direc- tion in which she had fled toward Chilton most likely, back Tamworth-way, or near the place where 'he and she had last met. He was unaware whether she thought him dead by her own hand, or had heard 202 PAMELA CONGREVE of him as living; possessed with the idea that she really loved him, he saw in her flight a sure indication that he was still in her mind, and that instinctively she would resort to a spot associated with his pres- ence. So it came about that Charteris took the coach for Tamworth at the same time that Harlowe and Beau- clerc were speeding toward Cleeve. CHAPTER XXI AT THE THRESHOLD OP ST. BEES H IS Grace of Harlowe went astray several times on the road to the strange little fishing hamlet, but this made less differ- ence to him in the saddle than to the poet in his travelling chaise. So it fell out that the Duke was the first to reach a level plateau looking out far on the sea-line, and bringing the apology for a road to an abrupt end. A shepherd was tending his flock on the misty downs, and to him the horseman said: " Good-morrow, my man, where's Cleeve? " tossing pennies into the midst of the old man's knitting with an accurate aim. " Yonder, your worship," jerking a knotty thumb toward the edge of what seemed like a sheer precipice. " Thank 'ee," clutching at the coppers with the greed of unaccustomed handling. Harlowe surveyed the prospect with puzzled eyes,, then put spur and was off. 203 204 PAMELA CONGREVE " Hold ! hold ! my lord ! " screamed the aged shep- herd at the top of his lungs. " No horse ever yet rid into Cleeve. Hold ! for your lordship's life ! " and. with his knitting-ball twining around his spindle legs, the shepherd hobbled after the traveller, calling as loudly as his ninety years would permit. Harlowe drew rein, turned in the seat, and put his hand to his ear. The wind was now lashing the sea into a fury of yeasty billows. " Humbly, my lord, 'ee must alight, tie 'ee horse here I'll mind it and wi' your lordship's legs go on the gait to Cleeve. No far 'n a mile more, but a deevil path, all pebbles. There be's sledges and donkeys for them as comes, the squire and likes o' him and his ladies, but rest 'n us walks." The Duke dismounted the more readily that, hav- ing now reached the edge of the escarpment, he could look over and perceive no other fashion of entering the hamlet, which lay built on the dunes three hun- dred feet below where he stood. "An Inn?" " Aye, my lord, the Puss and Mug. Few ever comes to 't save the carrier, and him leavin' his cart yonder see 't atop o' the rock wall? and fetchin' down his goods on donkey's back." PAMELA CONGREVE 205 Harlowe nodded. The word " carrier " had sent the blood swirling through his veins magnificently. With a long, steady stride he pushed on down the curious deep groove cut in the rocks, which wound in and out like a fanciful ribbon, until, the end nearly reached, he saw the hamlet of Cleeve at nearer range. A score or two of rude huts huddling in the midst of the sandhill, garden patches brilliant with the greens that no air like the salt breath of the ocean can produce; smoke curling from chimneys above thatched roofs ; tiny crawling paths, meandering as the will of the sheep had led; a child, brown as the stubble, kicking in a mound; creels, nets, fish-poles, lines scattered everywhere ; boats at anchor, riding on the waves, or hauled upon the beach. " Where's the Inn ? " he cried to the child. Pulling its forelock in awe of the stranger, the boy made answer, " Here he is, your worship, but all's from home. Dame, host, and all gone up coast wi' all the men and women folk to see 'ee wreck." Harlowe, throwing him some coins, stopped before the Puss and Mug. He entered the yard, knocked perfunctorily, slipped the latch, went into the tap- room, the parlour, mounted the twisting staircase, called at each door. No answer came; all was still. 206 PAMELA CONGREVE Which room was hers? For he had no doubt that here she was, somewhere about. He paused at one of the little doors and put his ear to the panel to catch, if might be, the rise and fall of her breathing. No, not a pulse or sigh, nor laughter nor sob. The urchin had been correct the inn was empty ! Harlowe came down to find the child open-mouthed on the step, gazing at his money. " Who else went to see the wreck ? " " All Cleeve, savin' me an' the shepherd up aloft wi' sheep ! " " Was there a stranger a lady " Harlowe hesi- tated a second for his description, " living at the Inn? Did she go, too? " The boy shook his head and regarded the strange gentleman with dull saucer-eyes ; nor could any fur- ther word be wrenched from him. Truly, there was no one else in Cleeve but this child, and he, it seemed, was more than half an idiot. All the little toy-houses empty ; all the miniature gar- dens vacant ; all the tortuous paths forsaken. Above, on the cliff, one could hear the tinkle of the sheep- bells and the bleat of the lambs ; here only the half- witted child and Harlowe stood staring at each other. Presently the boy shrieked with mindless laughter, PAMELA CONGREVE 207 and went tumbling down to the beach, where he stood on his tow-head and threw all his pence into the angry lashing waves. The Duke had a mind to swing out for the wreck. It was not visible, but he could try first up the coast and then down. A moment later he decided against this plan. If Pam were here, he did not wish to sur- prise her and come upon her suddenly in the midst of a company of louts. He sat down on the bench in the yard, a thousand thoughts crossing each other in his brain. The perturbation and suspense of it all now seemed to vanish. He felt in some way assured that Pamela was not far off. He had not touched mattress or pil- low for the space of three days and nights; his eye- lids drooped. Yet it was not slumber, but a curious reverie wherein this man, always master of himself, gave rein to the illimitable fancies in which repressed natures at times indulge. In imagination he held Pamela m his arms and she was willing, nay, coaxed her way nearer to his breast. He felt her sweet breath warm upon his throat and cheek, her soft arms clasped about his shoulder, her lips parting to whisper to him the most dear of all a maid's confessions. 208 PAMELA CONGREVE She would promise to be his ; to quit the stage for- ever for his sake; to be the lady of his home and hearth ; to come to him, away from every memory of the time when throngs could gaze upon her for pay- ment, to come into tHat safe, best shelter that a man can give, a woman take, this side of heaven. Aye, she would promise all of this, he knew it. To be his " to have and to hold." The Duke was not too much at his prayer-book, but ever since he had met Pamela Congreve he had been reading the marriage ceremony, and, to his way of thinking, nothing had ever yet so expressed his own particular creed. To him the knowledge that the woman he loved was earning money was so repellent that often he had been on the point of wishing that the theatre would burn down. It was for a man, he argued, to protect and cherish, to endow and provide for her in every way; and had it been necessary, he would have set himself to hew wood or stone and draw water rather than that she should work, even in such a fashion as the stage afforded. Would he have her " obey " him ? Aye, by the Lord! would he, and knew full well in his heart that she he loved would rather obey him than com- mand an army of other men. While Harlowe dreamed on, the storm was creeping PAMELA CONGREVE 209 closer up the coast. A mile to the south it had already broken landward, bearing on its breast the wreck the idiot boy had spoken of. The wind was nearing Cleeve, and by the cry of the gulls and the moan of the waters it would not be long before the hamlet was awhirl with the tempest that lurked in those two low- hanging cloudy threats chasing one another far aloft. Presently he heard the child's shriek, and looked up. The weird little figure stood on an upturned buoy and pointed at the sky, where the splendid masses of the clouds were at war with the keen, beat- ing, swaggering, royal wind. The urchin shouted and laughed with glee ; he was not afraid His feeble pipe of mirth struck a curious note against the thun- dering pulse of the invading tempest, and hark ! into the midst of these clanged the jubilant, mellow music of a bell. The Duke started to his feet and turned in the direction toward which the gleeful child pointed. He saw there the little church of St. Bees, and the bell swinging in the beautiful open tower. It was but a stone's-throw, and he got up and went there. The shepherd was pulling at the rope as though his life depended upon it, His hands, though so old, still cunning at the lift and slip. 210 PAMELA CONGREVE "What now? You, my man, here?" said the Duke. " Aye, your worship, he's bell-ringer, town-crier, shepherd, sexton, undertaker, and tax-gatherer here in Cleeve now these seventy years. Felt storm a-risin' and came back; climbed tower, and seen 't a-crawlin' 'long from southward. When the wind's aiming Cleeve-ways and the folks off, bell must ring, or all o' Cleeve's go surely out to sea. Doors must shut and windies, and chimbleys be covered, and beasts tethered in, and people got home. It's a-comin', sure." Clang! clang! went the tongue of the bell in its full bronze throat. Boom ! boom ! went the waves, beating and striking at the shore. And the hurricane came whirring and thundering and crashing and shouting up from the south into the midst of the hamlet of Cleeve. " Better 'ee get inside o' doors, my lord ! " called the old shepherd, jerking his white head toward the church, for the bell-tower was of two centuries be- fore, and stood outside the edifice. Harlowe, who had been looking, his eyes shaded with his hand, as far off as he could see, catching, he PAMELA CONGREVE 211 thought, a glimpse of a ship-end being bullied and teased by the great boil of the waters, now turned away, and, in his fixed reliance that, once the villagers returned, he should find, or, at the least, hear tidings of Pamela, stepped quickly out of the belfry into the yard and across, against the blast, to the porch. A man stood there, who had arrived before him by only a few moments. This was the poet. His long, gaunt hand was on the latch; a second later he had pushed the door ajar, and was looking in. Harlowe followed his eyes. A great flush of blood mounted to the cheeks of both the men, in joyful triumph. Before the small altar, her head bowed upon her hands clasped upon the rail, they saw Pamela. Beauclerc turned sharply as he felt the other's presence; His smile did not die, but deepened. Had not he found her first? Harlowe's grip upon the lin- tel tightened; he gasped, stood still, wished to God they had not so encountered. Beauclerc, a foot's length nearer to her, took his fingers from the latch, looked at her a moment, then up into the Duke's radiant and beautiful face. Sighing, the hunchback turned on his heel, and, without a word, went away from Cleeve back to London. CHAPTER XXII THE WRECK OF THE PORTAFERRY FRIGATE WHEN Pamela got into the carrier's cart at the Cat and Fiddle, she had no plan beyond the infinite desire to get away from the whole of her presen l environment, and back to a nearer touch with Nature. When she reached Cleeve, and even before it, as she drew her charioteer into conversation, she learned that almost all the people she had known there in her childhood were either dead or gone to the colonies or the wars. She had been told by the carrier that he was the father of six, the youngest a simple (i. e., foolish) lad of six; that his wife was a Scotswoman, and would gladly give her lodging and something to eat, if she would help with crimping and fluting the linen and fine laces of the quality that he fetched down from town every fortnight ; and so on until they reached the place where the old shepherd sat cross- legged on a hillock, knitting his winter stockings. 212 PAMELA CONGREVE 213 Pam ran swiftly down the pathway and into the village of Cleeve; soon made friends with the Scots- woman and her half-dozen of bairns ; soonest of all, won to herself the love of the simple lad, who clung to her apron strings ano! cried when she was out of his sight. The carrier's wife, being much bur- dened with work, was glad to have assistance, even at the expense of another mouth to feed. She asked no questions, but took Pamela at her face value, and was glad of her apt hands and of her idiot lad's devo- tion to his new friend. Pamela, on her side, hugged to her soul the splendid long reaches of the dunes, the far-stretching brown meadows, the exhilaration of all of which she had been so long deprived. She put out of her mind the playhouse and all it contained ; the music and mirth ; the glitter and dazzle; the applause and flatteries; the bickerings and backbitings; the whole curious compound of the town life, and, caring nothing for the disturbance her flight must occasion, she revelled in a return to the haunts she had known of old. It fell in with her mood to draw the water and fetch the peat; stir the fire and lay the coarse cloth; cut the flowers for market and dig the carrots and leeks for dinner ; tidy the living-room, and hold the simple 214 PAMELA CONGREVE child on her lap, sing him to sleep, or waken him in the morning and give him a dip in the water. To ig- nore all the fine lady's ways she had learned in Lon- don, and leave her long locks hanging down her back, half unbraided ; to sit for hours gazing out to the line of the horizon at twilight, to wonder and to think. Of what? Of what did Pamela think these two days and nights after she left Sweet-Acre House? Pam, who had laughed, coquetted, trifled, and mocked at Love for these many weeks, now found her- self confronted with his profounder aspect. Some- thing told her that if she had lingered longer near the Duke of Harlowe, she must have listened and said yes to all his pleading. Hitherto, with the light yet firm touch that some women have, she had kept him from being too serious. In his most passionate and importunate moments, when he beheld that radiant, bantering face looking up at him with quizzical eyes, he had been forced to cool his ardour, and give her raillery for raillery, or, in any event, try to meet her mood with something else than an outpouring of his adoration. But the night that sHe found the deed to Har- lowe House among his flowers, Pamela learned that she could play a game at hearts no more that when PAMELA CONGREVE 215 this man knocked, she must open. And to open was just what she could not do. Therefore, to the winds with theatres, managers, public, friends, foes, com- rades; up and away to some place where they could not follow ! where, alone, she could sit and reckon up the past with her soul, and renounce that which she cared for most of all. The only flaw in Pamela's plan was this, that she had counted without the man. Leaving him in town, she had forgotten that he had a will and would find a way to match it. The morning the storm broke northward, all Cleeve, except the simple lad, went hurrying up the coast to meet the wreck, arid save life if might be, or to make their profit of whatever goods, casks, jewels, and the like were thrown upon the sands, Pam stayed behind. She said she would mind the Scotswoman's youngest bairn, and therefore set him, after his porridge bowl was emptied, to playing in the sands and sticking a mound full with faded posies. Then she fetched the crimping-iron out into the little garden and fell to work on the fine ladies' laces, glancing up now and then to where the child was dancing and singing, all false notes, but happy ones, before the Inn door. 216 PAMELA CONGREVE Suddenly something pulled sharply at her heart- strings and made them quiver. Her hand dropped the iron, and she walked out of the garden between the fuchsias and the red geraniums that nodded all around her in the wind. Her face was toward London; someone that way was compelling her to come to him, begging and beseeching her to return to him, for him; and, as in a dream, her feet followed the call, obeyed the pull at the strings of her heart. Forgetting the simple child, she was walking up and out of Cleeve, when suddenly she paused before the portal of St. Bees, remembered her mother, and smiled and went into the church. " La, la, God A'mighty ! " thought the young creature to herself, as she stood looking at the high- backed oak pew-tops, at the rich colouring of the windows, at the chancel screen, all carved with birds and fishes, brought out of Flanders three centuries before ; at the altar and the picture over it, of Mary of Magdala and the Compassionate One outstretching his divine hands above her head. Pam crept up to the rail, and knelt down on the step; and then and there her fight was fought, her struggle with herself proceeded. Up from its hiding place came her past ; in its wake PAMELA CONGREVE 217 the thousand things she had almost forgotten in the two years of London life. Up came gibing at her from Chilton-side a gibbet, and the face of a man once dear. Then came the day when the coach was spilled at Tamworth, the day Pelham here Pam's head sank down upon the rail, and her body shook, and her sobs rent her fiercely. She said aloud, yet softly : " Mother, be 'ee nigh me, as I know 'ee were that day I lay in the corn- furrows Tamworth way ? Are 'ee fightin' and prayin' with the Lord A'mighty for me? Are 'ee, mother, an' is't 'ee a-counsellin' me, an' sayin' I must give him up? Aye, I knows it; Pam knows it. She ain't for the likes o' him, never nohow ! La ! la ! " She shivered, and her teeth closed cruelly over her red under lip. " I love him so, mother, I do ! But I loves him so I can give him up." Her voice was steady, and the heroic blood that was in her veins pulsed with a new resolve to keep her vow, because she loved the man better than she did herself. As she knelt there her purpose became clearer. It was to stay in Cleeve and lead the life of the people o Cleeve, and never more to stir from Cleeve till death took her. There was no loophole or subterfuge in her mind 218 PAMELA CONGREVE it was an honest purpose, simply planned, with no affectation of tears or posturings, though it cut her more keenly than a knife. Just as she had said her Amen to this future in Cleeve, the church door opened, and Beauclerc and Harlowe looked in. The poet went his way and the Duke, tiptoeing lest he should frighten or disturb her, his eyes fixed covetously on the little figure kneel- ing there in the linsey-woolsey frock, reached her, fell on his knees beside her, and cried ardently, " Pamela, love of my soul, I've found you ! " Drawing herself free, with terrified eyes, she looked up and saw him. There are temptations so full freighted with car- goes of bliss and peace that it takes your bravest soul to push them out of reach. It may be that Pam would then and there have given in and taken the rest she so dearly craved for a second, as she felt the fold of his arm, the warmth and tender care of it but across their meeting glances struck a bolt from the sky. There came a flash so vivid that it brought them both to their feet and set the bell to new and fiercer pealing. It sent Harlowe and Pamela out into the open, to find the sea rolling intoxicated with the wine of the wind, lashing, roaring, and on PAMELA CONGREVE 219 its crest a ship, splitting, twisting this way and that at the wild waters' will. " Be's the Portaferry frigate ! " shouted the old shepherd to them as they ran. Pam fled down the little path straight to the beach, Harlowe with her ; all the yearning of her soul rising to mate and match this war of the elements. She sucked in the salt mist, and longed to be among the folk, to do something to help if she could. For all the Cleeve people were back in their village again; with quick feet they had followed the storm and the frigate it drove before it. " There be lives to save ! " cried the carrier. " Aye, an' good firewood ! " quoth his Scots spouse. And all the men were straining at the ropes, all the women, too, then staring out into the turmoil keen-eyed, as the life-savers dashed off into the buffet of the deeps. It took hours, but even in the teeth of such a storm all were brought to land, though the rescuers were nearly as exhausted when they reached it as their burdens. Pam, with the other women, was tending and com- forting these wretches, when down crashed the thunder 220 PAMELA CONGREVE anew with a peal so frantic that it sent all who were standing to their knees with " God ha' mercy ! " on their lips. The frigate gave one last leap, a huge rent in her side swallowing all the sea it could. Every hut in Cleeve trembled, and more than one roof flew scurrying over the dunes; chimneys, scattered into single bricks, came tumbling about their ears; they thought the Judgment Day arrived, and fell to prayers and supplications. All save the simple child, who, uplifting his hideous lilt in glee, dashed himself into the great brawl of the ocean and in a few seconds was almost hidden from sight. " My bairn ! " shrieked the mother. " My bairn ! him I love best o' all my simple, foolish bairn ! Save him, oh, save him ! " The men had done all they could; Harlowe was carrying a sailor in his arms up to the Inn. The carrier tried to quiet his wife by saying : " Whisht, lass ; 'tis the Almighty's will." " Wull me no wulls, A'mighty or none. He's my bairn. Eh, wull no one save him ? Look at him ! Look at him ! " Pam looked up from her work for one of the rescued looked from the mother's face to the face PAMELA CONGREVE 221 of the little child, where it showed for a moment in the boil and swash of the sea. " Hush ! " she cried, springing to the ropes and throwing the loops over her waist and shoulders. " I'll fetch him back to you. Here, have hold, all of you, and help me if you can ! When I catch him, pull ! pull for your lives ! " They sent up a shout and seized the ropes as Pam ran barefoot down the sands to plunge into the sea. " Pamela ! " It took Harlowe but an instant to wrest her free of the ropes, lift her back into safety, cast the loops about his own body, and dash into the water. " You ! " he cried, as his arms went around her, " you to risk your life while I live ! My girl, you know not what love is." But she did know. As, with the rest, she held the ropes and watched the breakers buffet him; now draw him under and now pitch him up on their white crests, Pam knew indeed what love was. She watched him attain, then lose; then reach again; then slip; then clutch the child. He caught him with a grip of iron, and then the peo- ple of Cleeve pulled, pulled against the devil himself, 222 PAMELA CONGREVE it seemed, in league this day with the sea and the storm. Dudleigh Duke of Harlowe was a strong man of a splendid fibre, but when he reached shore and laid the witless boy in his mother's arms, he staggered a bit, and turned with a smile to Pam, saying : " I cannot tell if I've bones broke or not, but if I have, will you come to the Inn and take care of me? " The girl smiled back, as she toiled with the mother over her child. The whole of the Cleeve people that were able to, set up a huzza for the stranger and his valour, and among them they bore him off to the Puss and Mug. Then the sun came peering through the mist and spray. Before long it was shining full above the timbers of the Portaferry frigate, tossed on the lulling waves; shining upon all the wreck and strewage on the sands, shining full upon his Grace of Harlowe as he got into the dry garments of the hostler at the Inn ; upon Pam as she ran thither and yon about the business of the carrier's household, too long neglected because of the hurricane. However fatal the stress that comes upon our human nature, once it is removed we go quickly back to our old ways ; and, by afternoon, the Scotswoman PAMELA CONGREVE 223 was elbow-deep in her tubs, while Pam, out in the garden under the trellis, was busy enough crimping fichus and capes, and the simple lad, none the worse for his adventure, fetched and carried irons for her from the fire indoors. Harlowe intercepted him presently, took the flut- ing-piece from him, and sent him off to the sweet shop for comfits, himself crossing the dishevelled bit of garden to find Pam standing at the table at work. With a low bow he handed her the iron. " Am I permitted," said he, half lightly, for he dreaded the dismissal he had read in her eyes so few hours ago, and thought to parry it by a gaiety of demeanour foreign, at this moment, to his sentiments " am I permitted to wait upon the toast of all London, and to ask wherefore this whim of clear-starching ruffles, frills, and rustic bravery ? " Pam curtseyed ; she was ready to meet the merrier mood, since she knew full well she could not endure the other one. " May not the toast of all London, your Grace, toast her fingers with a hot iron if it please her? Call it whim if you like, but if it is, your Grace knows that whims are things without wherefores ! " " Pamela," cried he, catching at her hand, " in the PAMEL'A CONGREVE name of Heaven, what brought you here? Tell me, won't you? " " Aye," she answered mirthfully, " the carrier's cart." " Oh, Pamela ! Sweet witch " he laughed despite the seriousness of his glances " to quit London with never a hint, and put me into a frenzy, fearing you were dead, murdered, God knows what! Pamela! Was it kind? Was it just? Was it right? " She nodded, thinking it was indeed all these three things. " Pam ! " The young man leaned across the table where she bent at her work, his strong hands impris- oning both of hers relentlessly. " Pam, came you hither alone? " " Yes," she answered simply. " For a man's sake ? " the Duke pursues. " Yes," she answered, as if brought to bay. " Pam, his name, his name ! " whispering agonised, his ruddy face, as he sat on the table, bending over her pale one. " I cannot tell it." " Pamela ! " All the fierce tide of a man's best passion flooded up into his voice and yet the tone was so low as scarcely to be audible. PAMELA CONGREVE 225 He was so near ; so dear ; so true ; so brave ; so all she craved and yearned for; so much the answer to her every need. She was so near so utterly exquisite and dearly beloved; the darling and centre of his life and heart; the sweet heaven of his every hope; so palpitating with fond delights and witcheries and charms And yet and yet A strange impulse crept into her face; he felt the essence of her ebbing from, not toward him. In that moment, rather than resign her, he would have struck her to the heart. But Pam shook herself, body and spirit, free of him ; she laughed and pulled the laces over to her. " Your Grace," she said, " the town 's a-pining for you, doubtless. Why tarry you here? " " Pamela," answered he madly, " did you ever love anyone in your life, any man, I mean ? " There was a pause. Then she crimped the ruffles most carefully into place, turned the pretty head this way and that. Yes," she said, I did." Harlowe bit his lip till the blood came. " God help me ! " he said brokenly, going away from her. 226 PAMELA CONGREVE She stared at him, and her slender arms went out. He turned, saw them, and rushed straight back to her. " Life of me ! " he cried, on his knees and clasping hers, his kisses raining on the linsey-woolsey, rap- turously. " Oh, Pam, even did you once love some other man, 'tis I am in your heart to-day! Nay, Pam, can you not deceive me. Tell it me, confess it ! In the name of Heaven above us stand not so chill, as there were something between us some barrier." Pamela pressed her two hands on his head; there were tears somewhere in her speech. " There is." She turned from him and fled into the cottage. I CHAPTER XXIII BACK IN LONDON same day that the Earl of Charteris had gone down to Tamworth, persuaded he would find Pamela there, Heathcote and fat Peter Twiss had also visited the town where they had first discovered the beautiful player. Of course, like the Earl, they failed to find the object of their search, or any least trace of her ; and back to town all three came, by different conveyances, no wiser than they went the peer, as we Rave seen, to Cagliostro's, the manager to his theatre, and poor rotund Peter following disconsolately in his wake. From Godfrey these latter presently learned of his fruitless search, and that the Duke of Harlowe was distractedly scour- ing London and the suburbs for news of the lost player. The prints kept Lady Betty informed, and so long as doubt lay upon the matter of finding Pamela, her spirits ran high; while Kitty spent her time sobbing 227 228 PAMELA CONGREVE fit to break her heart, and paid not the least attention to all Sir Toby's sighings. Sir Thomas, himself much perturbed, presently ordered his household down to the country, but not before Betty had contrived, by a fortunate accident to her chair in front of his coffee-house, to have a meeting with Charteris, and ask him down to Har- lowe for the Christmas holidays now fast approach- ing. " With all my heart, Lady Betty," responded he, solicitous for her comfort in the now replaced sedan. " And is it sure you'll have all your heart with you when you come? " she asked, bridling. " By my life ! that I know not, for, look you, I've not much of the commodity left. You, with your frowns and flounces, have nigh bereft me." He threw a proper ardour into his glance, while his thoughts were intent upon the probability of the names and bank accounts of the gentlemen to be met at Harlowe. When a man has a fine pair of eyes and knows how to use them, it is sometimes hard to reach precisely what the calculation behind them may be. " La ! " ogled her ladyship, " I protest, Charteris, I've no frown for you to-day, if you give me your word to come. I must be returning to my aunt's, PAMELA CONGREVE 229 since we are quitting town ourselves this very after- noon." " My word is yours, dear Lady Betty ; upon my soul I do swear it," and his hand inclosed hers and carried it to his lips. She was borne off, well satisfied, and Charteris re- turned to his game in a like frame of mind. He knew that Harlowe House had been presented by its owner to Pam ; that she had bidden a large com- pany down for Christmas; that she herself would be there and the picture thus presented was most pleas- ing to his fancy. For Charteris had now no doubt of Pam's safety. Like most men of his calibre, he was thoroughly superstitious; and Cagliostro had that very day assured him that Pam was safe. This had required no very wonderful powers of second-sight for the astrologer had had the news ten minutes earlier from Godfrey, who came to engage a half -hour for his mistress on the following morning. For Pam was back in London. No sooner had she fled into the Scotswoman's cot- tage from Harlowe's fond persuasions than she had been seized with one of those changes of mood which render the Fair so perpetual and yet so delicious a riddle to the opposite sex. 230 PAMELA CONGREVE Quite as keen as had been her relish for getting away from town and the playhouse was now her im- portunate craving to get back. Finding her sole ob- ject foiled, and that here as well as there her lover would be at her side, Pam felt she could fight her bat- tle more easily amid the glitter and bustle, the tumult and excitation of the mummer's life than in the silent remoteness of the sand and the sea. Back she went, giving no explanation of her dis- appearance it seemed a fine thing to be thus a power and not compelled to furnish reasons for her acts. She was greeted with a wild acclaim ; with tears of joy; even Twiss fetching posies for her, and God- frey from his father's shop bearing lily creams new- named in her honour. The prints were loud and long on her mysterious disappearance and recovery, nor did they shrink from indicating that the cause of her absence was a gentleman of the first quality, whose suit, not prospering, became too ardent, and had sent Mistress Congreve into retirement, whence happily she had now emerged more beautiful, more radiant, if possible, than ever before. When she appeared on the stage the evening after her return the enthusiasm of the audience knew no bounds, and, not content with the ordinary signs of P'AMEL r A CONGREVE 231 approval, the ladies had torn their bracelets, rings, and chains from their places and flung them to the favourite. In vain, among all the noisy throng, Pam's eager eyes sought him she longed yet dreaded to behold there. Harlowe was not in the house. Instead he sat gloomily in White's, ready almost to stick himself through the heart with his own rapier. " How is this, your Grace? " said Beauclerc, who had come in from the theatre to seek him. " You not in Covent Garden on this night of nights ? " "No," returned the Duke. "Why should I be there? Staring myself into a worse case by feeding only on the smiles intended for all others. Surrey, once you envied me; put up that sentiment in your pocket, sir; there's no more cause but, God bless you for the generous thing you did when last we met at the threshold of St. Bees." His hand clasped over the poet's lean fingers, and the pressure was returned in kind. There was a pause, tense with feeling on both sides, and Beauclerc wist- fully put the question that lay near his heart. " Of a truth tell me, if you will did our lady deny you ? " " Aye, by my faith ! " answered the Duke, rising, " with a logic most unanswerable." PAMELA CONGREVE " There's naught * unanswerable ' in any lady's vocabulary until she swears she loves another, and God Almighty! Pam never said that to you I know she loves you ! " " Tush, Surrey, man of my heart ! Hark there's someone between me and Pamela Congreve. Back to the playhouse, sir, I'll home, or to hell ! What mat- ters whither? " So Pamela missed him, and all the while her sweet eyes sought him, her laugh grew louder, and her smile gayer, and her glances more merry, the better to conceal the failure of her search. Well as she knew she had put him away from her forever, still she yearned unspeakably for one glimpse of him, even across the sputter of the footlights. Morning came after the gala night of her return. She said to Jess : " Send Godfrey to Cagliostro, and let him say I can't be there to-day! but will to-morrow, do you hear?" " Aye, madam, I am calling Godfrey by the bell- rope now, and in the minute he'll be off to the Strand. Please, you, at what hour to-morrow? " " Noon." Godfrey ran to Monsieur Cagliostro's fleet-foot PAMELA CONGREVE 233 and alert, now that his adored mistress was once more restored to his vision. In his youthful zeal, clambering up the marble steps, he almost tumbled over Lord Charteris, who, having followed the wizard's instructions the night before at the gambling table, was the richer and come to spend some of the winnings on the charlatan who had chanced to hit the mark. " S'death ! Lout ! Bumpkin ! " cried he, making to kick Godfrey out of his path, but the boy was too nimble for him ; full of laughter, he dashed in ahead, delivered his mistress' message, and was out again and away by the time the Earl had gained the landing. " Good-morrow, signer ! " cried he to the quack, " who's this that nearly knocks a nobleman into the kennel at your portal, without so much as ' by your leave'?" " Ah, milord, milord ! " answered the wily Ital- ian, shaking his fat forefinger playfully. " Milord moost not quarrel wis zat leetle boy. No! No! No!" " Why not? Who's the boy? " " Zat ees ze leetle page of ze diva ! Ze Goddess, what you say ? la Congreve ! Aha ! " The small black 234, PAMELA CONGREVE eyes of the magician peered insinuatingly up into the dark orbs of liis titled patron. Charteris stood still. Devious as were many of his methods, he yet possessed, when his brain was un- clouded by wine, a power of thinking quickly, and of taking full advantage of the circumstances that pre- sented themselves. He smiled now, shrugged his shoulders in the French fashion, filliped his boot with his cane, and waited the other's further speech. " She comes here to-morrow, milord." Charteris had not dreamed of this ; he had only sup- posed, like many of her sex, that Pam had sent her sovereign and would get in return the soothsayer's dictum in a few hours. His mind had been quite made up to buy the Italian into sending something to Pamela concerning himself, but that she was coming to the house in the Strand called up new plans in his brain. He looked about, beckoned the fortune-teller into one of the three crystal pagodas that surrounded his spacious entrance hall, and drew the violet velvet cur- tains closely together, shutting out all the glare of the great gilt candelabra ; leaving merely the murky glimmer of the incense burning in its splendid jars PAMELA CONGREVE 235 at either side of the large carved empty picture- frame, wherein Cagliostro at will, it was believed, could, for a fee of five guineas, show to any lady or gentleman his or her future wife or husband. Here the two men stayed in close conversation for a quarter of an hour, until the fact being made known to him that no less than eighty ladies of quality and half as many gentlemen were waiting on him in his gorgeous crimson anteroom, Signer Cagliostro was forced to cut short the interview. With profuse nods and grimaces he ushered the Earl to his sedan, and returned to ply his engaging trade. Charteris' last words to the charlatan had been: " To-morrow, then, at noon." With a smile wreathing his lips he returned to his house, and Pink had the satisfaction of seeing his master in a better humour than for many months before. Charteris did not go out that night, but sat before the fire dreaming of winter and summer nights in the past; nights when the moon had shone on the deck of a fishing-smack, on the face of a girl whom he loved; nights when he and she had sat on the rocks above the Smuggler's Cave at Chilton, and he had told her, as he well knew how, the oldest story in the 236 PAMELA CONGREVE world, in the newest and sweetest way. He re- hearsed to his fancy the first kiss he had pressed upon her hand, the wide clear eyes that had looked into his ; the child's soul just awaking to delicious woman- hood, of which he had had the first glimpse. The Earl ground his teeth together, as he thought with relish that before any other man on God's earth he had seen the light of love burn up in Pamela Con- greve's face. And he swore a deep and cruel oath, as he sat sipping his Burgundy by the hearth, that he would have her his once more or kill the man that thwarted him. " Pink ! " he cried at midnight, " warm my sheets now, and call me at ten. Two hours for my toilette to-morrow, d'ye hear, and order my chair for ten minutes before noon ; 'twill but take so long to reach Cagliostro's, eh? " " Aye, my lord, ten minutes is enough, even though the day be wet and the roads heavy. Your lord- ship's night wrapper lies ready, and the perfumes are burning in the jar." " Aye, so good-night, you need not attend me." And Lord Charteris went up to his bed, promising himself much delightful pleasure on the morrow. CHAPTER XXIV AT THE ASTROLOGER'S IN THE STRAND f~ ~"^HE morrow dawned resplendent, all a-sparkle with frozen drops upon the trees. Hurrying holiday crowds were buying Christmas gifts ; country folk come up to town for their shopping, and town folk skurrying to get down into the country, all were radiant with smiles and cheerfulness. It is a long time, more than seventeen hundred years, for the shadow of the world's greatest joy to linger on the earth yet year by year and century by century the reach and glory of it strengthens, deepens everywhere. Charteris rose at ten, and never was gentleman more captious at his toilette; he displayed all the whims and caprices of a lady, as he tried first this wig, then that; one perfume now, and now another. " With submission, my lord," remarked Pink, the submission not appearing at all in his manner, " one would suppose your lordship was a-dressing for your wedding." 237 238 PAMELA CONGREVE " Hold your tongue, you damned rascal," answered the master, luxuriating in the rich fragrances of Monsieur Gimbart's best essences, and for a moment lying back in his arm-chair before the mirror and closing his eyes in anticipation of the triumph to come. Such was his confidence in his own power over Pamela that the thought of failure never occurred to him. When he alighted from his sedan before the astrol- oger's in the Strand, it yet lacked twenty minutes of noon. His lordship picked his way carefully up and in, and presently disappeared behind the purple curtains of the crystal alcoves. A little later Pamela's chair stopped before Cagli- ostro's. She was alone cloaked, hooded, and veiled most carefully, lest spying eyes should recognise her. She was admitted by the pompous lackeys in silence, and presently Cagliostro himself entered the great hall and conducted her to the alcove in the centre. The magician drew the curtains close; he stirred the incense in the jars with the tip of his jewelled wand; took a heavy and ancient-looking tome from a carved recess, the gilt chain that fastened it to its column jangling on the mosaic pavement as he opened it, and turned the black-lettered leaves. PAMELA CONGREVE 239 The lights on the candelabra twinkled and lowered ; a faint breeze from above caused the fluted silk ceiling and walls to wave uncertainly before Pam's gaze as she dropped her golden guinea into the palm of the astrologer's Arabian familiar, who then glided noise- lessly away, leaving the quack and his client alone together. Then music sweet as honey, smooth as silk, low as lovers' whispers, came lilting in to her from some far-off spot. The voice of Cagliostro sounded weirdly out from the small gilt pulpit in which he stood, his volume before him on a jewelled lectern, his keen Italian visage framed in the Eastern turban he habitually wore. " Mademoiselle comes for tidings of ze one most dear to her? " He looked searchingly at her, his forefinger with its big diamond pressed upon the page in front of him. Pam laughed, not too much impressed with the soothsayer's theatrical methods, though her faith was full in his ability to reveal something to her. " Mademoiselle," continued Cagliostro, unheeding the mirth of his fair client, " zis ees ze great day in your life. Ah, yais ! ze stars behold ! say so ! " He pointed upward, and at the same moment the fluted silken ceiling parted, \