The Master of the Ceremonies Part 118

"It is not true. He could not have done such a thing."

"Indeed!" said Denville bitterly; "and yet I saw him leave the bedside, and stand with the jewel-casket in his hand. I say so to you, for I cannot bear it, child. Let them kill me if they will. Let them save my son; but let me, my child, let me go to my grave with the knowledge that you believe me true and innocent, and that I bore all that my son might live."

"Then you will not denounce him?"

"I? To save myself! No, though I would live. You do not believe me innocent, my child. You think me a murderer."

"Father, I believe you were beside yourself with your troubles, and that you were going to take those jewels when you were interrupted, and, in a fit of madness, did this deed to save yourself and children from disgrace."

"Claire, Claire," groaned the old man, "if you--if you only could have believed in me, I could have borne all, but you turn from me. Will you not believe in me? Have you not realised my self-sacrifice?"

"Oh, father, what can I say--what can I do?" cried Claire. "Do you not see my position? Can I think of my poor brother now as the guilty man?"

"No," he said, taking her in his arms, and trying to soothe her in her agonised grief; "it is too much to ask you, my child. It is too much for such a one as you to be called upon to even think of. I will not press you, Claire; neither will I ask you to forgive me. I could not do that now. Only try to think of me as innocent. I ask you once more, my darling; I ask you once more."

Claire threw her arms round his neck and drew his head down to her bosom.

"I am your child," she whispered softly. "Father dear, good-bye-- good-bye."

"So soon?" muttered Denville. "Yes; good-bye--good-bye."

He held her hand till she was half through the door; and then, as it was closed, he tottered back to his seat, and once more sank down to bury his face within his hands.

Volume Three, Chapter XXI.

FROM PRISON TO PRISON.

"Morton," said Claire hoa.r.s.ely, as she returned to where her brother was waiting, "are you still strong at heart?"

"Strong? Yes," he cried. "What do you want me to do?"

"Take me to Fred."

The young officer started, but he drew a long breath and rose erect.

"Come along," he said. "Colonel Lascelles will give me an order to see him. But, Claire darling, can you bear to meet him now?"

"My own brother? Morton, could I stay away from you if sickness or a wound had laid you low?"

"Come," he said abruptly; and, taking her arm, he led her along the parade on their way towards the barracks.

Before they had gone far Morton's cheeks flushed, for he saw Lord Carboro' approaching, and he felt ready to turn out of the way.

"He will cut us dead," thought Morton. "We are disgraced for ever."

To his surprise, as they drew near, Lord Carboro' took off his hat, and held it in his hand, bowing low to Claire as she pa.s.sed him.

Fifty yards further they encountered Richard Linnell and Mellersh, who, without having seen Lord Carboro's act, imitated it exactly, and drew aside to let them pa.s.s.

Morton felt his heart throb with pleasure. He had expected those who knew them to treat them slightingly, and his sister was being treated with the deference due to a queen, while he was receiving respect such as had never been paid to him before.

He held his head the higher, and gaining in confidence walked boldly on, proud of the closely-veiled figure at his side, as Claire drooped over his arm; but, as he drew nearer to the barracks, he felt a curious tremor attacking him, and it needed all his strength of mind to keep up and face his brethren of the mess.

Claire shrank more and more as they entered the gates and crossed the barrack-yard, but Morton had screwed himself up to the sticking point, and he would have died sooner than have turned tail now.

Dragoon after dragoon saluted him, and he caught sight of Sir Harry Payne, but that officer had the grace to turn off, and they reached the Colonel's quarters without an unpleasant encounter.

They were shown in at once, and without taking chairs Morton stood defiant and proud awaiting the entrance of the Colonel, and supporting his sister.

They were not kept waiting long before the Colonel entered, Morton meeting his eyes with a fiercely independent look.

He was armed against an unarmed man, for the old Colonel's first act was to place a chair for Claire, bowing to her with chivalrous deference, while directly after, in place of treating his subaltern with freezing distance, he held out his hand and shook Morton's warmly.

The young officer had truly said that he was only a boy, for this kindly act and the old Colonel's sympathetic look threw him off his balance, and his lip began to quiver and his face to change.

"You've come to ask for a pa.s.s to see your brother, Denville," said Colonel Lascelles. "Yes, of course, of course. Very sad--very painful business, my dear lad. No fault of yours, of course. Don't scruple to ask me for any a.s.sistance I can give you, my dear boy. As far as my duty will allow me, you can count upon me. There: that's it," he said, blotting a sheet of paper, and handing it promptly to the young officer, while he chivalrously refrained from even glancing at the sorrow-burdened figure at his side.

"By-the-way, Denville," he whispered, calling the young fellow aside, "you can take what leave you like now."

The flush came back to Morton's face, and he was drawing himself up, but the Colonel took one hand, while he laid his left upon the lad's shoulder.

"No, no, no: I don't mean that, my dear boy. You have behaved uncommonly well, and I never respected you half so much as I do now. No gentleman in the regiment, I am sure, will think otherwise than I do.

Yours is a very painful position, Denville, and, believe me, you have my sympathy from my heart."

Morton grasped his hand firmly, and then hurried away, for he could not trust himself to speak.

Another encounter had to be gone through, though, and that was with a tall, dark officer who came upon them suddenly.

Morton flushed up again as he felt Claire start, and saw Rockley stop suddenly, as if about to speak eagerly to the shrinking girl; but he found Morton's eyes fixed upon him, and returning the look with an angry scowl he pa.s.sed on.

A minute later and they were in the infirmary, where, looking white and pinched of aspect, Fred Denville lay, with a regimental nurse at his side.

The man rose, and left the side of the bed, for Claire to take his seat.

"He is to be kept very quiet, ma'am. Doctor's orders," said the man respectfully. "I shall be just outside if you want anything."

Fred was lying with his eyes half closed, but he heard the voice and opened them, recognised his visitors, and tried to raise his hand, but it fell back upon the coverlid.

"Claire?" he said in a voice little above a whisper. "An officer?"

He smiled sadly, and then seemed half choked by a sob, as Claire threw herself on her knees by him and Morton went to the other side, bent over, and laid his hand upon that lying helpless upon the coverlid.

"Fred, old fellow," said Morton in a husky voice.

He could say no more, but stood looking down upon the prostrate figure, awe-stricken at the ravages caused by the wound.

"Fred--dearest Fred," whispered Claire, kissing the hand she held.