The Brown Mask Page 12

  CHAPTER XII

  BARBARA HELPS TO CLOSE A DOOR

  There was no doubt in Barbara's mind that the presence of Lord Rosmoreat Aylingford boded no good to the man who was at that moment in thetower across the ruins. She was to be questioned concerning him. Whatwas she to say that could be the truth while not harming him?

  In Lord Rosmore's mind there was no doubt that the woman before him,framed by the curtains which she held, was very beautiful, a possessionmuch to be desired. There was nothing on earth he would not do to makeher his own. It was a vow he had registered before; he registered itanew as he stood erect and Barbara advanced into the room.

  "You are back sooner than I expected from the West, Lord Rosmore," saidBarbara.

  "Lord Rosmore comes upon a grave matter," said Sir John, and his facewas serious enough to give his words ample meaning, "a matter thatconcerns us all. I fear there are days of trouble in front of us, and Iam too old for such things."

  "Your uncle takes too melancholy a view of a circumstance which wasbeyond his control," said Rosmore.

  "Beyond it--yes, but can I prove that it was so?" asked Sir John.

  "There are many ways," said Rosmore. "Sir John, Mistress Barbara, wouldhave you sent for, although I begged him not to disturb you. I hadmentioned your name--I could hardly help doing so--but with no intentionof dragging you into a matter with which you have really nothing to do."

  "Tell her, Rosmore," said Sir John. "She may have more concern in itthan you imagine."

  "Rebellion brings many things in its train, Mistress Barbara--thehunting and punishment of those who rebel, for instance; unfortunately,some of this hunting has fallen to my lot," said Rosmore, and he had theair of gently concealing some of the horrors he had witnessed from hisfair listener. "I was commanded to arrest one Gilbert Crosby, ofLenfield, and it was in speaking of him that I mentioned your name. Youwill remember that we spoke of him on one occasion."

  "I remember. It was you who told me his name," said Barbara; and,whatever fears were in her mind, she spoke with absolute indifference.

  "As I told you then, he is a man of most contemptible character,"Rosmore went on, "a cowardly enemy and a dangerous friend. And he issomething more. We surrounded his house at Lenfield; we saw him enter,and then I rode to the door, demanding to see him. The servant went tocall him, and returned to say she could not find him. A few momentslater he appeared from the direction of the stables, mounted on the mostsplendid animal I have ever seen. Cantering across the open park, heeluded our pursuit by putting his horse at a fence that I should havesworn was impossible to take had I not seen that animal take it. It wasa marvellous leap, and I grant you this man is no mean horseman; but,Mistress Barbara, his outward appearance was changed. For the time beinghe was no longer Gilbert Crosby, the rebel, but Galloping Hermit, thehighwayman, and wore a brown mask."

  "I would I had seen the leap," said Barbara impulsively as a child mightsay it; and both men, who knew her love for horses, heard nothing butgenuine excitement in her remark. It concealed her real thoughts. Ifthis story were true, Gilbert Crosby had deceived her.

  "We followed him, but not over the fence," said Rosmore, "and a long,stern chase began. We had no horse amongst us to match the highwayman's.He could have left us behind sooner than he did, but he was playing acunning game. I divided my men, and whilst some followed him, I and twostout fellows turned aside with the object of cutting him off when hedoubled on his tracks, as I was convinced he would do."

  "You take a great while coming to the point," grumbled Sir John.

  "Indeed, uncle, I think Lord Rosmore tells the story most excellently,"said Barbara. "I am all excitement to know with what success you met."

  "We failed to take him," said Rosmore. "There was no choice left but tolet him go, and I admit I was disappointed as I rode through thevillage, close to an inn we had searched, on my way to beg a night'sentertainment from my friend, Sir Philip Faulkner. There was some kindof feast in the village, and in a barn by the roadside there was dancinggoing on to the scraping of a fiddle. I have no soul for music, but thenotes of that fiddle haunted my sleep that night and all the next day asI rode back to Lenfield. At Lenfield I understood why. That littlesequence of notes was familiar to me. You must often have heard ityourself. I was convinced that the fiddler was none other than MartinFairley."

  "Martin!" exclaimed Barbara. "Surely he would not be so far afield?"

  "I asked myself the same question," said Rosmore, "and I acted promptlyas well. I have often warned Sir John that there was method in Martin'smadness, and in this case, at any rate, I was right. Yesterday Martintravelled back towards Aylingford in company with a stranger. Unless Iam in error, that stranger was Gilbert Crosby, otherwise known asGalloping Hermit, and I have taken care to guard every road of escapefrom the Abbey to-night."

  "Certainly a wise precaution," said Barbara quietly; "but how does itconcern me?"

  "Can you swear that you did not send Martin to bring this fellow toAylingford?" said Sir John. "You certainly had some interest in this manCrosby, and Martin would try and do your bidding if you asked him tofetch you the moon."

  "My interest was surely natural," Barbara answered, "for I assure you Iwas in an unpleasant situation at Newgate when this man came to myrescue--Lord Rosmore has doubtless told you the circumstances--but Icertainly did not send Martin to bring this man to Aylingford."

  She laughed lightly as though the mere suggestion were absurd. So farshe could answer honestly, but she dreaded the next question.

  "I do not suppose my niece would do such a thing," returned Sir John,"but the world is hardly likely to have the same faith in her. I warranteven you have your doubts, Lord Rosmore."

  "I assure you, Mistress Barbara, your uncle has no reason to suggestsuch a thing," said Rosmore. "As I have said, I am told off forunpleasant duty, and that duty has brought me to Aylingford to arrest arebel, and compels me also to arrest Martin for assisting a rebel."

  "Poor Martin! A madman!" said Barbara.

  "I have much doubt as to his madness," was the answer, "but you haveonly to persist, and those doubts shall vanish. If you desire it, Martinshall escape--you have my word for that."

  Barbara was alert. She was prepared to have traps set for her, and hadno intention of stepping into them if she could help it.

  "That is generous of you, Lord Rosmore," she said, thanking him with acurtsy, "but I would not ask you to neglect your duty."

  "Nonsense, child," said Sir John, who seemed irritated by this bandyingof words. "You talk ignorantly. For my part I am most anxious that LordRosmore should not do his whole duty. If he did, he would reportAylingford Abbey and ourselves suspect. I am most desirous that heshould remember friendship as well as duty--indeed, I have already urgedthis upon him."

  "That is true, but Sir John is too anxious in this matter."

  "You know perfectly well that I am justified in that anxiety," Sir Johnreturned. "The King is as bitter, even more bitter, against those whoassist rebels than against the rebels themselves. This fool Martin hasbrought disaster to our doors, and we have got to meet it promptly. Itis well that you should understand this clearly, Barbara," he went on,turning to his niece. "No one will believe that Martin has actedentirely by himself in this matter, and since you have confessed someinterest in this fellow Crosby, you are suspect, let Lord Rosmore hidethe fact as he will."

  "Bear me witness, this is your uncle's declaration, not mine," saidRosmore.

  "It is a hard fact, that is what concerns us," said Sir John; "and itbecomes necessary to prove beyond question that we are heart and soulfor King James. There is one way that you may easily do so, Barbara. Youwill remember a conversation I had with you recently concerning LordRosmore. He wished--"

  "I pray you, Sir John, this is not the moment to thrust my wishes uponyour niece."

  "I say it is," was the sharp answer. "I have wit enough to see thesafest road, and to take it. Since it is also a pleasant road, whyshould there be any
hesitation or delay?"

  Rosmore shrugged his shoulders, and with a helpless glance at Barbaraturned to contemplate the great iron dogs in the fireplace, kicking alog which lay there with some impatience. The conversation had taken aturn which was not to his liking, it seemed.

  "You remember the conversation to which I refer, Barbara?"

  "Perfectly, uncle."

  "Lord Rosmore has done us the honour to ask your hand in marriage. Myown satisfaction may have made me a little too hasty in telling you. Youwere naturally unprepared, and, womanlike, were inclined to resent anyidea of being forced into a marriage. Since then, however, you have hadtime to consider the matter. You may guess my own feelings concerningsuch an alliance. From the moment Lord Rosmore spoke to me I have seennothing but advantage in it. Now, there is an additional reason why youranswer should not be delayed. Affianced to Lord Rosmore, whose wholeinterests lie with the King, no one would dare suggest that you had hadthe slightest sympathy for a rebel, or that Aylingford had everwillingly opened its gates to a fugitive from Monmouth's rabble army.Martin's indiscretion puts you in danger. If by some careless word youare responsible for that indiscretion, which may very likely be thecase, you are in grave danger. Rosmore is not here alone, and though hemay be silent, other tongues will wag. Is it not so, my lord?"

  "I do not wish to bias your niece," Rosmore answered, without turningfrom the fireplace.

  Barbara was in a hard case. The man in the tower was trapped; Martin,too, would be arrested. By a word she could save Martin; possibly LordRosmore might be induced to let Crosby also slip through his fingers. Ifshe consented to marry him she felt that she might persuade him toanything. The thought brought a quick reaction. If she could persuadehim to anything, he was not a man to trust. Duty should come first, nomatter how insidiously a woman might tempt. She did not trust Rosmore.She remembered the evil in his face that night in the hall when she hadstood between him and Sydney Fellowes. She remembered Gilbert Crosby;his grey eyes seemed to look into hers at this moment. He must besaved--but how?

  "I think you exaggerate the danger, uncle," she said quietly. "Surely amadman's folly is not sufficient to condemn us?"

  "I have told you the truth. Ask Lord Rosmore."

  "Will you tell me, please?"

  "Sir John forces my hand," said Rosmore, turning quickly towards her.For an instant he seemed angry, but his face softened as he looked ather. "I am torn between love and duty. Sir John speaks truly. Another inmy place to-night, one who had only his duty to consider, would probablyarrest both you and your uncle on suspicion, and you would have to proveyour innocence as best you might. King James is determined to trampleout this rebellion, and even some innocent persons may suffer."

  Barbara did not speak when he paused. She had glanced at her uncle andwondered whether this might be some plot between these two to force herto this marriage. She distrusted her uncle as much as, if not more than,she did Lord Rosmore.

  "If I consent?" she said.

  Rosmore made a step towards her, and Sir John looked up quickly. Theywere suddenly as men who had played a desperate game and won.

  "I said 'If,'" and she shrank back a little, unconscious how beautifulshe looked in that moment.

  "Consent to be my wife, and there is nothing that you can ask me that Iwill not do--nothing. Do you understand--nothing?"

  "And if I say 'No'?"

  Anger came back into Rosmore's face for an instant, but it was gone in amoment.

  "Even so I could not do my duty," he said slowly. "I should ask thatanother might take my place, and then--"

  "Then the heavy hand of the King upon us," said Sir John.

  "I must think. You cannot expect me to answer now, at once," saidBarbara.

  "Duty may not wait," said Sir John.

  "You shall have my answer to-morrow, Lord Rosmore," Barbara said. "Imust have the night to decide. Duty does not compel you to march MadMartin from Aylingford to-night."

  "I will give you until to-morrow," he answered.

  Barbara curtsied low and turned to the door.

  Rosmore drew back the curtains for her, and as she passed out whispered:

  "I love you, sweetheart. Say 'Yes' to-morrow."

  "Will she consent, think you?" Sir John asked as Rosmore came slowlyback across the room.

  "I think so; yes, I think so."

  "I spoke sufficiently?" questioned Sir John.

  "You were excellently diplomatic. Were she a woman easily frightenedthere would be no doubt of her answer. Your guests in the Abbey, SirJohn, must not know of my presence here, nor that the place is watchedto-night."

  "You are sure that Martin brought this man Crosby to Aylingford?"

  "Quite sure."

  "Why not take him to-night, quietly?" said Sir John. "If he is withMartin, he is probably in the old tower by the ruins. Is he most rebelor most highwayman?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Because, if he is most highwayman, you might influence Barbara's answerto-morrow by letting him escape."

  "I have thought of it, but--"

  "My niece and a highwayman! She may be romantic, my lord, but she is nota fool."

  "Gad! Sir John, you are lost here in Hampshire; you should be beside theKing to advise him. If we let him go to-morrow, this knight of the roadmay easily meet with an accident. In my company it should not bedifficult to find a man or two who can shoot straight. Your niece'sromance might prove inconvenient to me if Galloping Hermit were still inthe land of the living."

  "Settle that as you will," said Sir John, "but arrest him to-night."

  As soon as the door had closed behind her Barbara crossed the hallquickly; but she did not return to her own apartments. She had made herplans while she listened to her uncle and Lord Rosmore. Now, she hurriedalong a corridor to a small door opening on to the terrace, hardly everused except by herself when she went to talk to Martin in the tower.Between it and the ruins there was not much of the terrace to travel,and the shadows were deep. The sharpest eyes might fail to see a movingfigure amongst them. Barbara ran lightly, her skirts gathered from herfeet, and, entering the ruins, went quickly to the tower. The door wasshut, but not locked, and she mounted the winding stairs to Martin'sroom. It was in darkness.

  "Martin!" she called softly, but there was no answer.

  Had Crosby got knowledge of his danger, and gone? Even now he might bein the hands of his enemies, for were not all the ways of escape watchedto-night? What could she do?

  She stood for a few moments undecided how to act. She must not be foundthere by her uncle or Lord Rosmore who might seek her there if by chancethey discovered that she had not returned to her own rooms. Almostcertainly they would have her watched to-night. Yet she must stay towarn Martin and Gilbert Crosby, if by chance they were still ignorant oftheir danger. It would never do for them to be caught in the tower, fromwhich there was no hope of escape.

  There was a small landing outside the room. At the top of the windingstairs there was a door, fastened back by a clamp, and Barbara had neverknown this door to be shut. Another winding stair led to the flat roofof the tower, where Martin often spent hours, reading the future in thestars, he said. She went to the roof now, but it was empty, and she camedown again quickly. Perhaps they were sitting in the ruins, and had notheard her. She would go and see. As she descended a sound came toher--running feet--and through one of the narrow slits which gave a dimlight to the stairs in daytime she discerned two men crossing the ruins.It was so dark in the tower that she could see them easily. They werenot half-way across when other men came running from the terrace, butthe fugitives could easily have reached the tower and closed the doorupon their pursuers had not one of them caught his foot and fallen. Itwas Gilbert Crosby; he did not know every stone as Martin did. He was onhis feet again directly, but the advantage had been lost. Barbara wentdown a little farther until she was just hidden by the first bend in thestairs. There was the sudden clash of steel, and a pistol-shot rang outupon the night. All was confusi
on in the doorway just below her. Thentwo men came up slowly, and backwards, thrusting downwards as they came,and more than one groan told that the steel had done its work.

  "Be ready to rush when I give the word," Martin whispered; "then, at thetop, make a stand--we must close the door there somehow."

  The stairs were too narrow for two men to fight side by side. Martinwas a step or two below his companion, and it was no longer a fiddle bowwhich he held in his hand. It was doubtful whether he had ever used hisbow so well as he used a sword to-night.

  Barbara leaned down.

  "I am here, Mr. Crosby. I came to warn you," she whispered. "I know thedoor. Tell Martin."

  She went up quickly. The clamp which held the door back at the head ofthe stairs was stiff, but with her weight thrown against the woodwork toease the pressure she managed to unfasten it. The door creaked loudly asshe drew it forward. Possibly Martin heard the noise, for a moment laterhe shouted, and he and Crosby rushed on to the landing.

  "Into the room, mistress," Martin whispered, as he swung the door to andshot the bolt. "It won't hold long, but long enough." Then he followedthem quickly into his room and locked the door.

  Two men lay on the narrow stairs grievously hurt, and there was bloodflowing from a cut on the face of another man as he threw himselfagainst the door at the top, bent on settling a score rather than takinga rebel. He cursed and called to those below him.

  "It is a small matter," said Rosmore. "It shuts us out, but it shutsthem in."

  "The door will not take much breaking down," said Sir John; "the rot ofyears must be in it."

  There was some delay while a heavy bar was found with which to attackthe door, and a light to see by. The door at the head of the stairs soonyielded, but that of the room was another matter. It was of stout oak,and Sir John seemed to think that Martin might be persuaded to open it.

  "Martin! Martin!" he called, knocking as he did so. There was movementwithin, but no answer. "Martin! This riot is no concern of yours. Open!I have a message for you from Mistress Barbara."

  Again there was movement within, and someone spoke in a low voice, butSir John got no answer.

  "Your madman is defiant," said Rosmore. "We shall have to teach himbetter manners. We must break in the door, Sir John."

  The first blow of the bar fell heavily, and there came a sudden answer,a quick sequence of notes--the laugh of the fiddle--then silence. Blowupon blow followed quickly, but there was no answering sound fromwithin.

  "Beat where the lock is," said Rosmore. "It gives there, I think; and beon the defensive, Sir John. We have certainly one desperate man to dealwith--I think two."

  With a crash the lock suddenly gave way, and the door swung open; but norush of attack came out of the darkness. One man carried the light inand held it high above his head. There was no movement, no sound.

  The room was empty!