White Lies [124]
sickening fear came over her.
What if this was no spirit's work, but a human arm--a strong one-- some man's arm?
Her first impulse was to dart up the stairs, and make sure that no calamity had befallen through her mistimed drowsiness. But, when she came to try, her dread of the supernatural revived. She could not venture without a light up those stairs, thronged perhaps with angry spirits. She ran to the kitchen. She found the tinderbox, and with trembling hands struck a light. She came back shading it with her shaky hands; and, committing her soul to the care of Heaven, she crept quaking up the stairs. Then she heard voices above, and that restored her more; she mounted more steadily. Presently she stopped, for a heavy step was coming down. It did not sound like a woman's step. It came further down; she turned to fly.
"Jacintha!" said a deep voice, that in this stone cylinder rang like thunder from a tomb.
"Oh! saints and angels save me!" yelled Jacintha; and fell on her knees, and hid her head for security; and down went her candlestick clattering on the stone.
"Don't be a fool!" said the iron voice. "Get up and take this."
She raised her head by slow degrees, shuddering. A man was holding out a cradle to her; the candle he carried lighted up his face; it was Colonel Raynal.
She stared at him stupidly, but never moved from her knees, and the candle began to shake violently in her hand, as she herself trembled from head to foot.
Then Raynal concluded she was in the plot; but, scorning to reproach a servant, he merely said, "Well, what do you kneel there for, gaping at me like that? Take this, I tell you, and carry it out of the house."
He shoved the cradle roughly down into her hands, then turned on his heel without a word.
Jacintha collapsed on the stairs, and the cradle beside her, for all the power was driven out of her body; she could hardly support her own weight, much less the cradle.
She rocked herself, and moaned out, "Oh, what's this? oh, what's this?"
A cold perspiration came over her whole frame.
"What could this mean? What on earth had happened?"
She took up the candle, for it was lying burning and guttering on the stairs; scraped up the grease with the snuffers, and by force of habit tried to polish it clean with a bit of paper that shook between her fingers; she did not know what she was doing. When she recovered her wits, she took the child out of the cradle, and wrapped it carefully in her shawl; then went slowly down the stairs; and holding him close to her bosom, with a furtive eye, and brain confused, and a heart like lead, stole away to the tenantless cottage, where Madame Jouvenel awaited her.
Meantime, Rose, with quaking heart, had encountered the baroness. She found her pale and agitated, and her first question was, "What is the matter? what have you been all doing over my head?"
"Darling mother," replied Rose, evasively, "something has happened that will rejoice your heart. Somebody has come home."
"My son? eh, no! impossible! We cannot be so happy."
"He will be with you directly."
The old lady now trembled with joyful agitation.
"In five minutes I will bring him to you. Shall you be dressed? I will ring for the girl to help you."
"But, Rose, the scream, and that terrible fall. Ah! where is Josephine?"
"Can't you guess, mamma? Oh, the fall was only the screen; they stumbled over it in the dark."
"They! who?"
"Colonel Raynal, and--and Edouard. I will tell you, mamma, but don't be angry, or even mention it; they wanted to surprise us. They saw a light burning, and they crept on tiptoe up to the tapestried room, where Josephine and I were, and they did give us a great fright."
"What madness!" cried the baroness, angrily; "and in Josephine's weak state! Such a surprise might have driven her into a fit."
"Yes, it was foolish, but let it pass, mamma. Don't speak of it, for he is so sorry about it."
Then Rose slipped out, ordered a fire in the salon, and not in the tapestried room, and the next minute
What if this was no spirit's work, but a human arm--a strong one-- some man's arm?
Her first impulse was to dart up the stairs, and make sure that no calamity had befallen through her mistimed drowsiness. But, when she came to try, her dread of the supernatural revived. She could not venture without a light up those stairs, thronged perhaps with angry spirits. She ran to the kitchen. She found the tinderbox, and with trembling hands struck a light. She came back shading it with her shaky hands; and, committing her soul to the care of Heaven, she crept quaking up the stairs. Then she heard voices above, and that restored her more; she mounted more steadily. Presently she stopped, for a heavy step was coming down. It did not sound like a woman's step. It came further down; she turned to fly.
"Jacintha!" said a deep voice, that in this stone cylinder rang like thunder from a tomb.
"Oh! saints and angels save me!" yelled Jacintha; and fell on her knees, and hid her head for security; and down went her candlestick clattering on the stone.
"Don't be a fool!" said the iron voice. "Get up and take this."
She raised her head by slow degrees, shuddering. A man was holding out a cradle to her; the candle he carried lighted up his face; it was Colonel Raynal.
She stared at him stupidly, but never moved from her knees, and the candle began to shake violently in her hand, as she herself trembled from head to foot.
Then Raynal concluded she was in the plot; but, scorning to reproach a servant, he merely said, "Well, what do you kneel there for, gaping at me like that? Take this, I tell you, and carry it out of the house."
He shoved the cradle roughly down into her hands, then turned on his heel without a word.
Jacintha collapsed on the stairs, and the cradle beside her, for all the power was driven out of her body; she could hardly support her own weight, much less the cradle.
She rocked herself, and moaned out, "Oh, what's this? oh, what's this?"
A cold perspiration came over her whole frame.
"What could this mean? What on earth had happened?"
She took up the candle, for it was lying burning and guttering on the stairs; scraped up the grease with the snuffers, and by force of habit tried to polish it clean with a bit of paper that shook between her fingers; she did not know what she was doing. When she recovered her wits, she took the child out of the cradle, and wrapped it carefully in her shawl; then went slowly down the stairs; and holding him close to her bosom, with a furtive eye, and brain confused, and a heart like lead, stole away to the tenantless cottage, where Madame Jouvenel awaited her.
Meantime, Rose, with quaking heart, had encountered the baroness. She found her pale and agitated, and her first question was, "What is the matter? what have you been all doing over my head?"
"Darling mother," replied Rose, evasively, "something has happened that will rejoice your heart. Somebody has come home."
"My son? eh, no! impossible! We cannot be so happy."
"He will be with you directly."
The old lady now trembled with joyful agitation.
"In five minutes I will bring him to you. Shall you be dressed? I will ring for the girl to help you."
"But, Rose, the scream, and that terrible fall. Ah! where is Josephine?"
"Can't you guess, mamma? Oh, the fall was only the screen; they stumbled over it in the dark."
"They! who?"
"Colonel Raynal, and--and Edouard. I will tell you, mamma, but don't be angry, or even mention it; they wanted to surprise us. They saw a light burning, and they crept on tiptoe up to the tapestried room, where Josephine and I were, and they did give us a great fright."
"What madness!" cried the baroness, angrily; "and in Josephine's weak state! Such a surprise might have driven her into a fit."
"Yes, it was foolish, but let it pass, mamma. Don't speak of it, for he is so sorry about it."
Then Rose slipped out, ordered a fire in the salon, and not in the tapestried room, and the next minute