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Leatherface Part 23

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Finally, on the outside of this packet she wrote with a clear hand:

"To don Juan de Vargas at his refidence in Brufsels. To be given unto Him with the Seal unbroken in the eyent of My death."

II

Lenora tired out with emotion and bodily exertion slept soundly for a few hours. When Inez came in, in the late morning to wait on her, she ordered the old woman to put up a few necessary effects in a small leather valise, and to pack up all her things and all her clothes.

"My father hath need of me for a few days," she said in response to Inez' exclamation of astonishment. "We start this morning for Brussels."



"For which the Lord be praised," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Inez piously, "for of all the dull, miserable, uncomfortable houses that I ever was in in my life..."

"Hold your tongue, woman," broke in Lenora sharply, "and see to your work. You will never be done, if you talk so much."

And Inez--more than ever astonished at this display of temper on the part of a young mistress who had always been kind and gentle--had perforce to continue her mutterings and her grumblings under her breath.

Whilst the old woman laid out carefully upon the bed all the pretty things which she had stowed away in the presses only twenty-four hours ago, Lenora busied herself with yet another task which she had set herself, but which she had been too tired to accomplish in the night.

She wrote a short letter to Laurence.

"My DEVOTED FRIEND," she wrote, "You promifed Me a very little while ago that if ever I wanted You to do fomething for Me, I was only to fend You this ring and You would do whatever I afked. Now, in the name of Our Lady, I adjure You to leave Ghent at once taking Your Mother with You.

A grave danger threatens You both. I know that You have relatives in Haarlem. I entreat You--nay! I afk it of You as a fulfilment of Your promife to go to them at once with Your Mother. Your Father is in no danger, and Mark will be efcorting Me to Brufsels, and I fhall try and keep Him there until all danger is paft...."

Having written thus far, she paused a moment, pen in hand, a frown of deep puzzlement and of indecision upon her brow. Then she continued in a firm hand:

"It is Your Mother's and Your own complicity in the plot which is being hatched in Ghent again ft the Duke of Alva which has brought Your lives in danger."

She strewed the sand over her writing, then read the letter carefully through. After which she took a ring from off her finger, enclosed it in the letter and sealed the latter down.

"Inez!" she said.

"Yes, my saint."

"I shall be starting for Brussels within the hour."

"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed the old woman. "I shall not be ready with the packing. Why this hurry, my angel?"

"Your not being ready, Inez, is of no consequence. I shall start with Messire van Rycke. You will follow on in the wagon."

"But, my saint..."

"Now do not talk so much, Inez," broke in Lenora impatiently; "if you add to my anxieties by being quarrelsome and disobedient I shall surely fall sick and die."

Evidently the young girl knew exactly how to work on her faithful old servant's temperament. Inez reduced to abject contrition by the thought that she was rendering her darling anxious and sick, swore by every saint in the calendar that she would bite off her tongue, toil like a slave and be as obedient as a cur, if only her darling angel would keep well and cheerful and tell her what to do.

"You must not fret about me, Inez," resumed Lenora as soon as the old woman's voluble apologies and protestations had somewhat subsided. "My husband will escort me as far as Brussels, and in my father's house little Pepita will wait on me till you come."

"And if that flighty wench doesn't look after you properly..." began Inez menacingly.

"You will make her suffer, I've no doubt," quoth Lenora dryly. "In the meanwhile, listen carefully, Inez, for there is something that I want you to do for me, which no one else but you can do."

"For which the Lord be thanked!" said Inez fervently. "What is it, my dear?"

"This letter," she said.

"Yes?"

"I want Messire Laurence van Rycke to have it, after I have gone."

"He shall have it, my saint."

"He may be from home."

"I shall find him."

"He must have it before midday."

"He shall have it."

"Promise!"

"I'll swear it."

The old woman took the letter with the ring which her mistress held out to her, and then only did Lenora feel that she had done all that lay in her power to reconcile her duty to her King with her sentiment for those who had been kind to her.

III

How Lenora spent the rest of the long, wearisome, interminable morning she never afterwards could have told you. The very atmosphere around her oppressed her well-nigh unbearably. There were the farewells to be said to the family--to the High-Bailiff who was apologetic and obsequious, to Clemence who cried, and to Laurence who looked sadly enquiring and reproachful.

Fortunately Mark had paved the way for these farewells in his usual airy and irresponsible manner. It was the Spanish custom--so he had a.s.sured his mother--that brides, after spending twenty-four hours under their husband's roof, returned to their parents or guardians for a few weeks.

Clemence had smiled incredulously when she had heard this--but had allowed herself anon to be persuaded. There were such queer marriage customs in different parts of the world these days. (Why! in many parts of Germany the bridegroom was, according to tradition, soundly thrashed by his friends directly after the religious ceremony--it was in order that he should be prepared for the many vicissitudes of connubial life.

And there were other equally strange customs in foreign lands.) Spain was a curious country--Clemence was prepared to admit, and ... ah, well!

perhaps it was all for the best! She had been attracted by the beautiful girl whom indeed a cruel fate seemed to have tossed into the very midst of a family with whom she had absolutely nothing in common.

Clemence had been sorry for her in her gentle, motherly way but she had mistrusted her ... and just now all Clemence's thoughts were centred on her country's wrongs, on the great fight for political and religious liberty which had received so severe a blow, and which the n.o.ble Prince of Orange was still determined to carry on with the help of G.o.d.

And so--though Clemence cried a little, and though her kind heart ached for the young girl who looked so pathetic and so forlorn when she bade her good-bye--she nevertheless felt a sense of relief when she remembered all that had been talked of and planned in this house last night, and thought of the packet of papers which were locked away with her most precious jewels. She kissed the girl tenderly, and spoke of the happy day when she would come back to her new home never to leave it again. Lenora, pale, like a young ghost, with dark rings under her eyes, and lips that quivered with the sobs she was vainly trying to suppress, made an effort to respond, and then hurried out of the room.

But when she saw Laurence he was alone in the hall and she contrived to whisper to him: "You remember the ring?"

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