Seeingmecomehehobbledonhissticktothegatetoopenitforme,whiningaprayerforalms。
’DoesMr。Wingfleldlivehere?’Isaid,pointingupthepath,andmybreathcamequickasIasked。
’Mr。Wingfield,sir,Mr。Wingfield,whichofthem?’heanswered。
’Theoldgentlemanhe’sbeendeadnighupontwentyyears。
IhelpedtodighisgraveinthechancelofyonderchurchIdid,welaidhimbyhiswife——herthatwasmurdered。
Thenthere’sMr。Geoffrey。’
’Whatofhim?’Iasked。
’He’sdead,too,twelveyeargoneormore;hedrankhisselftodeadhedid。
AndMr。Thomas,he’sdead,drownedoverseastheysay,manyawinterback;they’realldead,alldead!
Ah!hewasarareone,Mr。Thomaswas;ImindmewellhowwhenIletthefurrinergo——’
andherambledoffintothetaleofhowhehadsetdeGarciaonhishorseafterIhadbeatenhim,norcouldIbringhimbackfromit。
Castinghimapieceofmoney,Isetspurstomywearyhorseandcanteredupthebridlepath,leavingtheMillHouseonmyleft,andasIwent,thebeatofhishoofsseemedtoechotheoldman’swords,’Alldead,alldead!’
DoubtlessLilywasdeadalso,orifshewasnotdead,whenthetidingscamethatIhadbeendrownedatsea,shewouldhavemarried。
Beingsofairandsweetshewouldsurelynothavelackedforsuitors,norcoulditbebelievedthatshehadwornherlifeawaymourningoverthelostloveofheryouth。
NowtheLodgewasbeforeme;ithadchangednowhitexceptthattheivyandcreepersonitsfronthadgrownhigher,totheroofindeed,andIcouldseethatpeoplelivedinthehouse,foritwaswellkept,andsmokehungabovethechimneys。
Thegatewaslocked,andtherewerenoservingmenabout,fornightfellfast,andallhadceasedfromtheirlabour。
LeavingthehouseontherightIpassedroundittothestablesthatareatthebacknearthehillsidegarden,butherethegatewaslockedalso,andIdismountednotknowingwhattodo。
IndeedIwassounmannedwithfearanddoubtthatforawhileIseemedbewildered,andleavingthehorsetocropthegrasswherehestood,IwanderedtothefootofthechurchpathandgazedupthehillasthoughIwaitedforthecomingofonewhomIshouldmeet。
’Whatiftheywerealldead,whatifSHEweredeadandgone?’
I
buriedmyfaceinmyhandsandprayedtotheAlmightywhohadprotectedmethroughsomanyyears,tosparemethislastbitterness。
Iwascrushedwithsorrow,andIfeltthatIcouldbearnomore。
IfLilywerelosttomealso,thenIthoughtthatitwouldbebestthatIshoulddie,sincetherewasnothingleftforwhichIcaredtolive。
ThusIprayedforsomewhile,tremblinglikealeaf,andwhenI
lookedupagain,ereIturnedtoseektidingsfromthosethatdweltinthehouse,whoevertheymightbe,thetwilighthadfallencompletely,andlo!nightingalessangbothfarandnear。
I
listenedtotheirsong,andasIlistened,sometroubledmemorycamebacktomethatatfirstIcouldnotgrasp。
ThensuddenlythereroseupinmymindavisionofthesplendidchamberinMontezuma’spalaceinTenoctitlan,andofmyselfsleepingonagoldenbed,anddreamingonthatbed。
Iknewitnow,IwasthegodTezcat,andonthemorrowImustbesacrificed,andIsleptinmisery,andasIsleptIdreamed。
IdreamedthatIstoodwhereI
stoodthisnight,thatthescentoftheEnglishflowerswasinmynostrilsasitwasthisnight,andthatthesweetsongofthenightingalesranginmyearsasatthispresenthour。
IdreamedthatasImusedandlistenedthemooncameupoverthegreenashandoaks,andlo!theresheshone。
IdreamedthatIheardasoundofsingingonthehill——
ButnowIawokefromthisvisionofthepastandofalonglostdream,forasIstoodthesweetvoiceofawomanbegantosingyonderonthebrowoftheslope;Iwasnotmad,Ihearditclearly,andthesoundgrewevernearerasthesingerdrewdownthesteephillside。
ItwassonearnowthatIcouldcatchtheverywordsofthatsadsongwhichtothisdayIremember。
NowIcouldseethewoman’sshapeinthemoonlight;itwastallandstatelyandcladinawhiterobe。
Presentlysheliftedherheadtowatchtheflitterofabatandthemoonlightlituponherface。
ItwasthefaceofLilyBozard,mylostlove,beautifulasofyore,thoughgrownolderandstampedwiththesealofsomegreatsorrow。
Isaw,andsodeeplywasIstirredatthesight,thathaditnotbeenforthelowpalingtowhichIclung,Imusthavefallentotheearth,andadeepgroanbrokefrommylips。
Sheheardthegroanandceasedhersong,thencatchingsightofthefigureofaman,shestoppedandturnedasthoughtofly。
Istoodquitestill,andwonderovercomingherfear,shedrewnearerandspokeinthesweetlowvoicethatIrememberedwell,saying,’Whowandersheresolate?
Isityou,John?’
NowwhenIheardherspeakthusanewfeartookme。
Doubtlessshewasmarriedand’John’washerhusband。
Ihadfoundherbuttolosehermorecompletely。
OfasuddenitcameintomymindthatI
wouldnotdiscovermyselftillIknewthetruth。
Iadvancedapace,butnotsofarastopassfromtheshadowoftheshrubswhichgrowhere,andtakingmystandinsuchafashionthatthemoonlightdidnotstrikeuponmyface,IbowedlowinthecourtlySpanishfashion,anddisguisingmyvoicespokeasaSpaniardmightinbrokenEnglishwhichIwillsparetowritedown。
’Madam,’Isaid,’haveIthehonourtospeaktoonewhoinbygoneyearswasnamedtheSenoraLilyBozard?’
’Thatwasmyname,’sheanswered。
’Whatisyourerrandwithme,sir?’
NowItrembledafresh,butspokeonboldly。
’BeforeIanswer,Madam,forgivemeifIaskanotherquestion。
Isthisstillyourname?’
’Itisstillmyname,Iamnomarriedwoman,’sheanswered,andforamomenttheskyseemedtoreelabovemeandthegroundtoheavebeneathmyfeetlikethelavacrustofXaca。
ButasyetIdidnotrevealmyself,forIwishedtolearnifshestilllovedmymemory。
’Senora,’Isaid,’IamaSpaniardwhoservedintheIndianwarsofCortes,ofwhichperhapsyouhaveheard。’
ShebowedherheadandIwenton。
’InthosewarsImetamanwhowasnamedTeule,butwhohadanothernameinformerdays,sohetoldmeonhisdeathbedsometwoyearsago。
’Whatname?’sheaskedinalowvoice。
’ThomasWingfield。’
NowLilymoanedaloud,andinherturncaughtatthepalestosaveherselffromfalling。
’Ideemedhimdeadtheseeighteenyears,’shegasped;’drownedintheIndianseaswherehisvesselfoundered。’
’Ihaveheardsaythathewasshipwreckedinthoseseas,senora,butheescapeddeathandfellamongtheIndians,whomadeagodofhimandgavehimthedaughteroftheirkinginmarriage,’andI
paused。
Sheshivered,thensaidinahardvoice,’Continue,sir;Ilistentoyou。’
’MyfriendTeuletookthepartoftheIndiansinthewars,asbeingthehusbandofoneoftheirprincesseshemustdoinhonour,andfoughtbravelyforthemformanyyears。
Atlengththetownthathedefendedwascaptured,hisoneremainingchildwasmurdered,hiswifetheprincessslewherselfforsorrow,andhehimselfwastakenintocaptivity,wherehelanguishedanddied。’
’Asadtale,sir,’shesaidwithalittlelaugh——amournfullaughthatwashalfchokedbytears。
’Averysadtale,senora,butonewhichisnotfinished。
Whilehelaydying,myfriendtoldmethatinhisearlylifehehadplightedtrothwithacertainEnglishmaid,named——’
’Iknowthename——continue。’
’Hetoldmethatthoughhehadbeenwedded,andlovedhiswifetheprincess,whowasaveryroyalwoman,thatmanytimeshadriskedherlifeforhis,ay,eventolyingathissideuponthestoneofsacrificeandofherownfreewill,yetthememoryofthismaidentowhomhewasoncebetrothedhadcompanionedhimthroughlifeandwasstronguponhimnowatitsclose。
Thereforeheprayedmeforourfriendship’ssaketoseekheroutwhenIreturnedtoEurope,shouldshestilllive,andtogiveheramessagefromhim,andtomakeaprayertoheronhisbehalf。’
’Whatmessageandwhatprayer?’Lilywhispered。
’This:thathelovedherattheendofhislifeashehadlovedheratitsbeginning;thathehumblyprayedherforgivenessbecausehehadbrokenthetrothwhichtheytwosworebeneaththebeechatDitchingham。’
’Sir,’shecried,’whatdoyouknowofthat?’
’Onlywhatmyfriendtoldme,senora。’
’Yourfriendshipmusthavebeencloseandyourmemorymustbegood,’shemurmured。
’Whichhehaddone,’Iwenton,’understrangecircumstances,sostrangeindeedthathedaredtohopethathisbrokentrothmightberenewedinsomebetterworldthanthis。
Hislastprayerwasthatsheshouldsaytome,hismessenger,thatsheforgavehimandstilllovedhim,astohisdeathhelovedher。’
’Andhowcansuchforgivenessorsuchanavowaladvantageadeadman?’Lilyasked,watchingmekeenlythroughtheshadows。
’Havethedeadtheneyestoseeandearstohear?’
’HowcanIknow,senora?
Idobutexecutemymission。’
’AndhowcanIknowthatyouareatruemessenger。
ItchancedthatIhadsuretidingsofthedrowningofThomasWingfieldmanyyearsago,andthistaleofIndiansandprincessesiswondrousstrange,morelikethosethathappeninromancesthaninthisplainworld。
Haveyounotokenofyourgoodfaith,sir?’
’Ihavesuchatoken,senora,butthelightistoofaintforyoutoseeit。’
’Thenfollowmetothehouse,therewewillgetlight。
Stay,’andoncemoregoingtothestablegate,shecalled’John。’
Anoldmanansweredher,andIknewthevoiceforthatofoneofmyfather’sservingmen。
Tohimshespokeinlowtones,thenledthewaybythegardenpathtothefrontdoorofthehouse,whichsheopenedwithakeyfromhergirdle,motioningtometopassinbeforeher。
Ididso,andthinkinglittleofsuchmattersatthemoment,turnedbyhabitintothedoorwayofthesitting-roomwhichIknewsowell,liftingmyfeettoavoidstumblingonitsstep,andpassingintotheroomfoundmywaythroughthegloomtothewidefireplacewhereItookmystand。
Lilywatchedmeenter,thenfollowingme,shelitataperatthefirewhichsmoulderedonthehearth,andplacedituponthetableinthewindowinsuchfashionthatthoughIwasnowobligedtotakeoffmyhat,myfacewasstillinshadow。
’Now,sir,yourtokenifitpleasesyou。’
ThenIdrewtheposyringfrommyfingerandgaveittoher,andshesatdownbythetableandexamineditinthelightofthecandle,andasshesatthus,Isawhowbeautifulshewasstill,andhowlittletimehadtouchedher,exceptforthesadnessofherface,thoughnowshehadseeneight-and-thirtywinters。
Isawalsothatthoughshekeptcontrolofherfeaturesasshelookeduponthering,herbreastheavedquicklyandherhandshook。
’Thetokenisatrueone,’shesaidatlength。
’Iknowthering,thoughitissomewhatwornsincelastIsawit,itwasmymother’s;