how noble and generous. I cannot insult him by a doubt.'
'Then he should not act as no true woman can endure.'
'And it would hurt him.'
'Tut, tut, child; if the lightning did not harm him how can this flash? I tell you no man has a right to trifle with you in this manner, and it is your duty to yourself and all of us to find out the truth. Some young rake may have bribed the black, and be personating him; and some day you may find yourself carried off you know not where.'
'Harriet, if you only knew either Mr. Belamour or Jumbo, you would know that you are saying things most shocking!'
'Convince me, then! Look here, Aurelia, if you cannot write to me and explain this double-faced or double- voiced husband of yours, I vow to you that I shall speak to Mr. Arden, and write to my father.'
'Oh! do not, do not, sister! Remember, it is of no use unless this temper of affection be on him, and I have not heard it this fortnight, no, nor more.'
'Promise me, then, that you will make the experiment. See, here is a little chain-stitch pouch-poor Peggy Duckworth's gift to me-with two pockets. Let me fasten it under your dress, and then you will always have it about you.'
'If the bottle broke as I rode home!'
'Impossible; it is a scent-bottle of strong glass.'
Here Mr. Arden knocked at the door, regretting to interrupt their confidences, but dinner awaited them; and as, immediately after, Mrs. Hunter brought her husband in his best wig to call on Madame Belamour and her relations, the sisters had no more time together, till the horses were at the door, and they went to their room together to put on their hats.
A whole mass of refusals and declarations of perfect confidence were on Aurelia's tongue, but Harriet cut them all short by saying, 'Remember, you are bound for your own honour and ours, to clear up this mystery!'
Then they rode off their several ways, Madame Belamour towards Bowstead, Mr. and Mrs. Arden on their sturdy roadster towards Lea Farm.
CHAPTER XXII. A FATAL SPARK.
And so it chanced; which in those dark
And fireless halls was quite amazing,
Did we not know how small a spark
Can set the torch of love ablazing.
T. MOORE.
Aurelia rode home in perplexity, much afraid of the combustibles at her girdle, and hating the task her sister had forced on her. She felt as if her heedless avowals had been high treason to her husband; and yet Harriet was her elder, and those assurances that as a true woman she was bound to clear up the mystery, made her cheeks burn with shame, and her heart thrill with the determination to vindicate her husband, while the longing to know the face of one who so loved her was freshly awakened.
She was strongly inclined to tell him all, indeed she knew herself well enough to be aware that half a dozen searching questions would draw out the whole confession of her own communication and Harriet's unworthy suspicions; and humiliating as this would be, she longed for the opportunity. Here, however, she was checked in her meditations by a stumble of her horse, which proved to have lost a shoe. It was necessary to leave the short cut, and make for the nearest forge, and when the mischief was repaired, to ride home by the high road.
She thus came home much later than had been expected; Jumbo, Molly, and the little girls were all watching for her, and greeted her eagerly. The supper was already on the table for her, and she had only just given Fay and Letty the cakes and comfits she had bought at Brentford for them when Jumbo brought the message that his master hoped that madam, if not too much fatigued, would come to him as soon as her supper was finished.
Accordingly, she came without waiting to change her dress, having only taken off her hat and arranged her hair.
She felt guilty, and dreaded the being questioned, yet longed to make her avowal and have all explained. The usual greetings passed, and then Mr. Belamour said, 'I heard your horse hoofs come in late. You were detained?'
She explained about the shoe, and a few sentences were passing about her sister when she detected a movement, as if a step were stealing towards her, together with a hesitation in the remark Mr. Belamour was making about Mrs. Hunter's good nature.
Quite irrelevantly came in the whispering voice, 'Where is my dearest life?'
'Sir, sir!' she cried, driven at last to bay, 'what is this? Are you one or two?'
'One with you, my sweetest life! Your own-your husband!'
Therewith there was a kind of groan further off, and as Aurelia felt a hand on her dress, her fight and distress at the duality were complete. While, in the dark, the hands were still groping for her, she eluded them, and succeeded in carrying out Harriet's manoeuvre so far that a quick bright flame leapt forth, lighting up the whole room, and revealing two-yes, two! But it did not die away! In her haste, and in the darkness, she had poured the whole contents of the bottle on the phosphoric cotton, and dropped both without knowing it on a chintz curtain. A fresh evening breeze was blowing in from the window, open behind the shutters, and in one second the curtain was a flaming, waving sheet. Some one sprang up to tear it down, leaping on a table in the window. The table overbalanced, the heavy iron curtain-rod came out suddenly, and there was a fall, the flaming mass covering the fallen! The glare shone on a strange white face and head as well as on Jumbo's black one, and with a trampling and crushing the fire died down, quenched as suddenly as it began, and all was obscurity again.
'Nephew, dear boy, speak,' exclaimed Mr. Belamour; and as there was no answer, 'Open the shutters, Jumbo. For Heaven's sake let us see!'
'Oh! what have I done?' cried poor Aurelia, in horror and misery, dropping by him on the ground, while the opened shutters admitted the twilight of a May evening, with a full moon, disclosing a strange scene. A youth in a livery riding coat lay senseless on the ground, partly covered by the black fragments of the curtain, the iron rod clenched in one hand, the other arm doubled under him. A face absolutely white, with long snowy beard and hair hung over him, and an equally white pair of hands tried to lift the head. Jumbo had in a second sprung down, removed the fallen table, and come to his masters help. 'Struck head with this,' he said, as he tried to unclasp the fingers from the bar, and pointed to a grazed blow close to the temple.
'We must lay him on my bed,' said Mr. Belamour. Then, seeing the girl's horror-stricken countenance, 'Ah, child, would that you had been patient; but it was overtasking you! Call Aylward, I beg of you. Tell her he is here, badly hurt. What, you do not know him,' as her bewildered eyes and half-opened lips implied the question she could not utter, 'you do not know him? Sir Amyas-my nephew- your true husband!'
'Oh! and I have killed him!' she cried, with clasped hands.
'Hush, child, no, with God's mercy! Only call the woman and bring a light.'
She rushed away, and appeared, a pale terrified figure, with the smell of fire on her hair and white dress, in the room where Mrs. Aylward was reading her evening chapter. She could scarcely utter her message as she stood under the gaze of blank amazement; but Mrs. Aylward understood enough to make her start up without another word, and hurry away, candle in hand.
Aurelia took up the other, and followed, trembling. When she reached the outer room the rush of air almost blew out her light, and pausing, afraid to pass on, she perceived that Mr. Belamour and Jumbo were carrying the insensible form between them into the inner apartment, while a moan or two filled her heart with pangs of self- reproach.
She hung about, in terrible anxiety, but not daring to come forward while the others were engaged about the sufferer, for what seemed a very long time before she heard Mrs. Aylward say, 'His arm is broke, sir. We must send for Dr. Hunter. The maids are all in their beds, but I will go and wake one, and send her to the stables to call the groom.'
'I had best go,' said Mr. Belamour. 'You are of more use than I. He sleeps at the stables, you say?' Then, seeing the waiting, watching form of Aurelia, he said, 'Come in, my poor child. Perhaps your voice may rouse him.' Every one, including himself, seemed to have forgotten Mr. Belamour's horror of the light, for candles were flaring
