work in hand, the passions man the ship, the position is their apology: and now should conscience be a passenger on board, a merely seeming swiftness of our vessel will keep him dumb as the unwilling guest of a pirate captain scudding from the cruiser half in cloven brine through rocks and shoals to save his black flag. Beware the false position.
That is easy to say: sometimes the tangle descends on us like a net of blight on a rose-bush. There is then an instant choice for us between courage to cut loose, and desperation if we do not. But not many men are trained to courage; young women are trained to cowardice. For them to front an evil with plain speech is to be guilty of effrontery and forfeit the waxen polish of purity, and therewith their commanding place in the market. They are trained to please man's taste, for which purpose they soon learn to live out of themselves, and look on themselves as he looks, almost as little disturbed as he by the undiscovered. Without courage, conscience is a sorry guest; and if all goes well with the pirate captain, conscience will be made to walk the plank for being of no service to either party.
Clara's fibs and evasions disturbed her not in the least that morning. She had chosen desperation, and she thought herself very brave because she was just brave enough to fly from her abhorrence. She was light-hearted, or, more truly, drunken-hearted. Her quick nature realized the out of prison as vividly and suddenly as it had sunk suddenly and leadenly under the sense of imprisonment. Vernon crossed her mind: that was a friend! Yes, and there was a guide; but he would disapprove, and even he, thwarting her way to sacred liberty, must be thrust aside.
What would he think? They might never meet, for her to know. Or one day in the Alps they might meet, a middle-aged couple, he famous, she regretful only to have fallen below his lofty standard. 'For, Mr. Whitford,' says she, very earnestly, 'I did wish at that time, believe me or not, to merit your approbation.' The brows of the phantom Vernon whom she conjured up were stern, as she had seen them yesterday in the library.
She gave herself a chiding for thinking of him when her mind should be intent on that which he was opposed to.
It was a livelier relaxation to think of young Crossjay's shame-faced confession presently, that he had been a laggard in bed while she swept the dews. She laughed at him, and immediately Crossjay popped out on her from behind a tree, causing her to clap hand to heart and stand fast. A conspirator is not of the stuff to bear surprises. He feared he had hurt her, and was manly in his efforts to soothe: he had been up «hours», he said, and had watched her coming along the avenue, and did not mean to startle her: it was the kind of fun he played with fellows, and if he had hurt her, she might do anything to him she liked, and she would see if he could not stand to be punished. He was urgent with her to inflict corporal punishment on him.
'I shall leave it to the boatswain to do that when you're in the navy,' said Clara.
'The boatswain daren't strike an officer! so now you see what you know of the navy,' said Crossjay.
'But you could not have been out before me, you naughty boy, for I found all the locks and bolts when I went to the door.'
'But you didn't go to the back door, and Sir Willoughby's private door: you came out by the hall door; and I know what you want, Miss Middleton, you want not to pay what you've lost.'
'What have I lost, Crossjay?'
'Your wager.'
'What was that?'
'You know.'
'Speak.'
'A kiss.'
'Nothing of the sort. But, dear boy, I don't love you less for not kissing you. All that is nonsense: you have to think only of learning, and to be truthful. Never tell a story: suffer anything rather than be dishonest.' She was particularly impressive upon the silliness and wickedness of falsehood, and added: 'Do you hear?'
'Yes: but you kissed me when I had been out in the rain that day.'
'Because I promised.'
'And, Miss Middleton, you betted a kiss yesterday.'
'I am sure, Crossjay — no, I will not say I am sure: but can you say you are sure you were out first this morning? Well, will you say you are sure that when you left the house you did not see me in the avenue? You can't: ah!'
'Miss Middleton, I do really believe I was dressed first.'
'Always be truthful, my dear boy, and then you may feel that Clara Middleton will always love you.'
'But, Miss Middleton, when you're married you won't be Clara Middleton.'
'I certainly shall, Crossjay.'
'No, you won't, because I'm so fond of your name!'
She considered, and said: 'You have warned me, Crossjay, and I shall not marry. I shall wait,' she was going to say, 'for you,' but turned the hesitation to a period. 'Is the village where I posted my letter the day before yesterday too far for you?'
Crossjay howled in contempt. 'Next to Clara, my favourite's Lucy,' he said.
'I thought Clara came next to Nelson,' said she; 'and a long way off too, if you're not going to be a landlubber.'
'I'm not going to be a landlubber. Miss Middleton, you may be absolutely positive on your solemn word.'
'You're getting to talk like one a little now and then, Crossjay.'
'Then I won't talk at all.'
He stuck to his resolution for one whole minute.
Clara hoped that on this morning of a doubtful though imperative venture she had done some good.
They walked fast to cover the distance to the village post-office, and back before the breakfast hour: and they had plenty of time, arriving too early for the opening of the door, so that Crossjay began to dance with an appetite, and was despatched to besiege a bakery. Clara felt lonely without him: apprehensively timid in the shuttered, unmoving village street. She was glad of his return. When at last her letter was handed to her, on the testimony of the postman that she was the lawful applicant, Crossjay and she put out on a sharp trot to be back at the Hall in good time. She took a swallowing glance of the first page of Lucy's writing:
'Telegraph, and I will meet you. I will supply you with everything you can want for the two nights, if you cannot stop longer.'
That was the gist of the letter. A second, less voracious, glance at it along the road brought sweetness: — Lucy wrote:
'Do I love you as I did? my best friend, you must fall into unhappiness to have the answer to that.'
Clara broke a silence.
'Yes, dear Crossjay, and if you like you shall have another walk with me after breakfast. But, remember, you must not say where you have gone with me. I shall give you twenty shillings to go and buy those bird's eggs and the butterflies you want for your collection; and mind, promise me, to-day is your last day of truancy. Tell Mr. Whitford how ungrateful you know you have been, that he may have some hope of you. You know the way across the fields to the railway station?'
'You save a mile; you drop on the road by Combline's mill, and then there's another five-minutes' cut, and the rest's road.'
'Then, Crossjay, immediately after breakfast run round behind the pheasantry, and there I'll find you. And if any one comes to you before I come, say you are admiring the plumage of the Himalaya — the beautiful Indian bird; and if we're found together, we run a race, and of course you can catch me, but you mustn't until we're out of sight. Tell Mr. Vernon at night — tell Mr. Whitford at night you had the money from me as part of my allowance to you for pocket-money. I used to like to have pocket-money, Crossjay. And you may tell him I gave you the holiday, and I may write to him for his excuse, if he is not too harsh to grant it. He can be very harsh.'
'You look right into his eyes next time, Miss Middleton. I used to think him awful till he made me look at him. He says men ought to look straight at one another, just as we do when he gives me my boxing-lesson, and then we won't have quarrelling half so much. I can't recollect everything he says.'
'You are not bound to, Crossjay.'
'No, but you like to hear.'
'Really, dear boy. I can't accuse myself of having told you that.'
'No, but, Miss Middleton, you do. And he's fond of your singing and playing on the piano, and watches
