CHAPTER XIII.

MARGARET GOES TO CASTLE BRAND.

It was about noon the next morning when, for the second time, Colonel

Brand presented himself at Dr. Gay's door, requesting the honor of an

interview with Margaret Walsingham.

"Shall you see him to-day?" asked the languid voice of Mrs. Gay, at the

lady's bedroom door, when she had delivered the colonel's message.

Margaret opened the door and looked out. Her great troubled eyes were

circled with violet shadows; she had not slept, and, if those wan cheeks

did not belie her she had wept many hours of the preceeding night.

"I must meet him, I suppose; I may as well have it over to-day. I want

to get rid of the whole business as fast as I can."

Colonel Brand rose as the tall, proud figure glided in, and with a quiet

bow passed to a distant sofa.

"We meet, I hope, more amicably than we parted," observed he, with an

intent watch on her countenance.

"On my part, yes," answered she, with a deep blush.

"I have heard how you refused to possess my fortune, feeling how you

would defraud me," said he. "I feel, of course, grateful to you for your

honorable conduct."

The measured tones fell harshly on the woman's high soul; she shrank

from the ignoble praise,

"Sir, I could not honestly take what was by right yours," she said,

looking proudly at the man, "I never meant to defraud you, or to stand

in your way. I only wish to get out of your way, now that you have

returned safely home. I am glad that you have come back, Colonel Brand,

for I regretted your death most bitterly."

Tears came to her eyes, and through them the thin visage of the soldier

seemed to narrow into a travesty of his old self, and she dashed them

away, ashamed of her weakness.

"I thank you for the kindness," said the soft, wary voice. "I did not

believe I had one friend in England who would mourn my death; perhaps,

had I known this, I should never have left it."

She glanced incredulously at him. How could he stoop to such

insincerity, who used to glory in his haughty plain speaking?

The words of kindness died upon her lips, and she turned away with a

heart-sick sigh.

"I see that I can hardly get Miss Walsingham to believe that I am not

the brutal scoffer who insulted her at Castle Brand, seven months ago,"

said he, with an ingratiating gentleness; "but I for one have lived to

see my mistake, and perhaps you may soon see yours. I have come back in

many respects a changed man."

"Changed?" faltered she, raising her wistful eyes to his. "Yes, you are.

I should not have known you."

And the shifting, contracting eyeballs answered her by dropping to the

carpet, while the olive face whitened to a deathly pallor, and the thin,

secret lips twitched suddenly.

Changed? Oh, Heaven! yes; had she been blind to read such nobility in

yon ill-favored face?

Changed? By all that was generous, brave, and true, this Colonel Brand

had belied her mad belief; no foolish devotee had ever bowed before a

more unworthy shrine than had poor Margaret Walsingham.

"One summer in the South, under such disagreeable circumstances, would

alter any man's appearance," quoth he, twisting his black mustache with

his long, brown fingers, and furtively reading her disdainful face.

"What between exposure, wounds, swamp fever, famine, and imprisonment,

personal beauty stands but a poor chance at the seat of war. But I hope

that what I have lost in personal appearance I have gained in the

qualities which a good woman admires most. I believe my heart is

bettered, my dear Miss Walsingham."

Hypocrite!

She vowed that she would rather hear that insolent laugh and the brutal

exclamation:

"Ye gods! what a Medusa!" than this silly sentimentality from St. Udo

Brand.

It was not like him to crouch at her feet, the hero whom she had

forgiven long ago for his roughness, exalting that roughness to the

pedestal of just contempt for a successful adventuress.

Why could he not, out of that nobility of heart which she had credited

him with, see that she had forgotten the old grudge long ago, and that

she was ready to do him full justice?

What did he take her for? a dissembling schemer, who had not been

sincere in her rejection of the Brand estate, and whom he must fawn upon

in order to win his own from her greedy clutch?

"I have nothing to do with your reformation, Colonel Brand," she said,

with cold formality. "My duty is plain to me, whatever you are. I shall

require no prompting to do it."

His eyes sparkled.

For the first time he looked frankly at her, and seemed at ease.

"I am relieved to hear you say so, Miss Walsingham," he said, with

something of the old free air; "for I was not inclined to quarrel with

you about my grandmother's disposition of the property. I should be

sorry to return to the angry feelings which I at first was fool enough

to indulge in against you; for I must admit that I am very much more

agreeably impressed with you to-day than I was that morning in the

library in Castle Brand. So, suppose we let by-gones drop, and begin on

a friendly footing."

"I repeat that your changed feelings have nothing to do with my duty,"

said Margaret, coldly. "It can make no difference whether you regard me

with toleration or indifference, I shall do you justice."

He stared suspiciously at her, and one or two wary wrinkles lined his

forehead.

"You don't mean to say that you are going to offer me some paltry

compensation instead of submitting quietly to the terms of the will?"

demanded he.

She turned a look of splendid scorn upon him.

Could he not find it in his soul to conceive of strict justice? Did he

not know the meaning of generosity? How mean, then, was his heart, which

ascribed such abject meanness to her?

"No; I did not think of that," said she. "You shall have every shilling

of your property, Colonel Brand."

"By Jove, you amaze me!" cried he, rising to approach near her. "Then

you have decided to marry me, after all, and let us both have the

lands?"

His exultation shone out in his evil countenance, and sent him hastily

across the room to take her hand.

But Margaret shrank back, and with a strong frown waved him away.

What had frozen the generous words on her lips?

Why did she let him rush to every conclusion but the right one?

She had come into his presence to say:

"I freely give up my claim upon your property, and place the deeds

entirely in your hands, wishing no further connection with it, or with

you; and so--farewell!"

But here she sat, chilled, bitter at heart, coolly asking herself:

"Is it well for me to be too hasty? Since I have been so utterly

mistaken in the character of this man, may I not be mistaken in rashly

following out my first impulse regarding his grandmother's property?

Yes, I am rash. I will wait a while before I make my intention known."

"I must know you better, sir, before I can form a just opinion of you,"

said she. "Perhaps we had better defer this matter until we have each

had time to decide upon the wisest course?"

"We have scarcely four months," said he, with a frown.

"They are ample for the purpose," she retorted, and rose to terminate

the interview.

"When am I to see you again, Miss Walsingham?" asked the softly-pitched

tones.

Without analyzing the strong impulse which prompted her, she replied:

"You are welcome to come here every evening, if you choose to make an

associate of your grandmother's companion."

And the satire checked the exaggerated deference with which he was

making his adieus, and sent him away with a touch of St. Udo's lofty

style.

She stood long at the window, following that tall, fine figure with

darkened eyes, and biting her lips fiercely.

"Oh, what a fool I have been," she groaned, when he had disappeared, "to

credit that small, chill heart with noble qualities! To invest that

suspicious soul with high impulses, and then to fall down and worship

him for a fallen god! Does not his quailing eye speak of a vile history,

of which he is such a coward as to fear the exposure? He, the gallant

soldier and invincible hero! Oh, blind world, to wear such a bandage of

credulity! He is incapable of bravery. I protest that a man with such a

downward eye could not look peril in the face. He fears me--_me_,

Margaret Walsingham, who trembled at his voice. How can this paradox be

explained? Is it possible that I have been so insanely mistaken in the

man as this?"

Colonel Brand forthwith began to visit Margaret Walsingham, with a view

to winning her for his wife, and at every interview her aversion

increased.

She soon came to shudder if she but heard his voice, and in her heart

violently contradicted every word he uttered, as if she saw the lie on

his face, when she detected his petty subterfuges to trap her interest,

and wily schemes to catch her love as regularly as he had recourse to

them. And she knew in her soul that the man was false in all except his

intention to win back his fortune.

"Where is that St. Udo Brand I mourned for?" wailed she, one evening,

after a stormy interview, when he had unwittingly disclosed the foul

distortion of his soul to her abhorring eyes. "Where has that great

spirit fled which cried for help to save itself from ruin at the hands

of Juliana Ducie? Must I accept the detestable truth that the gold which

I thought I had discovered behind the vail of sin was but tinsel all the

time, and tarnished with many an indelible stain of crime? Oh, St. Udo,

come back to me as you used to come in my grief, and reveal your sad,

heroic history once more, that I may believe in human nature again! But

for that secret, wily nature, I loathe it--oh, I loathe _that man_!" she

hissed, passionately. "Something rises up in my heart against him every

hour I see him, and whispers: 'Crush that serpent!'"

"How could he have concealed his real nature from everybody so

successfully? This wretch is not clever enough to conceal his nature

from me, and I am not particularly penetrating. _Can this be St. Udo

Brand? Good Heaven! What an idea!_"

Margaret suddenly relapsed into utter silence; the half-whispered

thoughts died on her lips, and she grew fearfully pale. The idea had

shot through her brain like a blinding flash of light; it dazzled, it

distracted her. She struggled against the fast-growing conviction as the

unconscious wretch from his half-fatal bath in the ocean struggles

against returning life, preferring the stupor to the throes of the new

life.

But it grew to her; she could not shake it off. She wondered, aghast at

herself for wondering, why she had not known it in the first stunned,

incredulous gaze, when all her joy at his return froze into cold

repulsion, and she recognized a worm instead of St. Udo, the hero.

Then she fell into a dreadful state of excitement; she paced her room

for hours, clasping her hands frantically, as if she felt her need of a

tight hold on some human being, and had no friend but herself; and every

dread possibility sailed slowly and with ruthless pertinacity before her

shrinking eye. She never had passed such a forlorn night yet.

When her strength gave out she lay on her bed, with her sleepless gaze

fastened upon the wintry sky, and thought out the ugly problem, with the

winking stars for counselors.

"That man has come here, determined to marry me for the sake of the

fortune I hold; and he has every hope that I will consent. He has traded

upon his _extraordinary resemblance to St. Udo Brand_, and, trusting to

our slight knowledge of St. Udo Brand, expects to pass without

difficulty for him.

"So St. Udo Brand _is_ dead, after all. Brave heart, forgive me for the

wrong I did you in believing this reptile to be you. Now, am I to suffer

an impostor to personate Colonel Brand, because I am a woman and feel a

natural terror of the villain? No, I swear that I will not suffer the

imposture. If all the world should believe in this man's identity with

Colonel Brand if I did not believe it, I would try to prove his

falseness. Mrs. Brand left her fortune to me, because she trusted to my

honor that I would do my best to save her grandson from destruction

through its agency; and, since he has perished, I will not permit any

other to get it upon false pretenses. Why should I? It would be wrong

for this man to get it, and, if he were my own brother, I would not give

it to him when it was wrong; how much less would I relinquish it at the

snarling of this hound? You wretch! I would far rather crush you than

enrich you," she hissed through her set teeth, while her eyes gleamed

like the stars she was gazing at.

"Thus far my mind is made up, that I will withstand the man who _calls

himself_ Colonel Brand. But how am I to do it? I will take possession of

Castle Brand at once, that he may not get it before me. I will hold it

against all his machinations. And when I am settled there I will try my

best to unmask him, and ruin his infamous scheme. I need hope for no

assistance from Mr. Davenport or Dr. Gay; as usual, they will call me

half mad and disregard my convictions. Unaided, uncounseled, I must

enter this strange conflict--where it may lead me, Heaven knows. But I

dare not shrink from it; whatever befalls me. I must and shall prove

this wretch an impostor."

Dr. Gay was startled at his breakfast by the apparition of his guest

coming into the breakfast-room with a grave, weary face.

"You have slept ill, my dear," said he, paternally offering her a seat

beside him.

"Doctor, I am going to Castle Brand to-day."

"Eh, bless me, what for?"

"To live there. Will you drive me over after breakfast, if you please?"

"But--how--what is your reason, my dear?"

"Please, do not ask it. I do not wish to reveal it as yet."

"Have we--has Mrs. Gay displeased you?" demanded the little man, growing

very red.

"No, she has not," said Margaret, sweetly; "you have both been most

kind."

"This is very extraordinary, after your last expressed decision that you

would never enter Castle Brand--is not that what you said?"

"I have changed my mind," she said, obstinately, "and you must not feel

displeased with me. I must go to Castle Brand immediately."

The doctor got up, and scurried through the room in great perturbation;

he knitted his brows, he pshawed, he stumbled against things in the most

provoking manner, and his wife looked after him with an air of Christian

resignation.

"Strange--unaccountable!" ejaculated the doctor, turning a suspicious

gaze upon Margaret Walsingham. "Pray, madam, has Colonel Brand anything

to do with your change of purpose?"

Then, indeed, her grave sweetness vanished, and a hard, bitter

expression crossed her face.

"I will answer nothing," she said, with a chilling reserve; "and you

will be good enough to allow me my own way, unquestioned, for once."

"Oh, certainly, Miss Walsingham," returned the doctor, with satiric

courtesy, and rushed from the room to order out his gig.

She was waiting for him in the little parlor when he came in, with her

bonnet and shawl on, and the sight of her white, desperate face added

fuel to the flame of the doctor's ire.

"My vehicle awaits your pleasure, madam," said he, stiffly; and with a

start she rose and bade her hostess good-by, and followed the doctor

out.

Not a word was spoken during the short drive. The chill winds met them

at every turn, whirling the dun crisp leaves high overhead, and stinging

the pale woman with their icy breath; but she did not seem to heed

either the bitter wind or Dr. Gay's bitter silence, but sat tranced in

her own mysterious thoughts, which she never asked the angry little man

to share.

Once only she roused herself; it was when they were passing through the

lodge-gates, when, for the first time, a fine view of the grand old

castle opened before them.

She bent forward, and regarded the hoary pile from turreted roof to huge

foundation stone, and a flash of scorn and hatred broke from her eyes,

and wreathed her lips with the unwonted sneer.

"It is something to plot for, I suppose," she murmured to herself. "It

has its fascination for such a cur."

"Beg pardon, Miss Walsingham, did you speak?" asked the doctor, sulkily.

"Yes, my friend; I was assuring myself that yonder fine building was

enough to rouse the envy of a covetous nature," she returned. "But we

shan't permit any foul play, shall we?"

She looked up with a strange smile; it was cruel and derisive, and the

little doctor subsided into uneasy silence, and stared hard at her all

the rest of the way.

When they came to the door, Mr. Purcell, the steward, and Mrs. Chetwode,

the housekeeper, bustled out to welcome the heiress home, and conducted

her in with the greatest deference.

She turned on the threshold and looked down at the doctor, who was

sullenly mounting his gig again.

"Tell Colonel Brand that his next visit to me must take place in my

castle," she said; "and that I hope to meet him suitably, and to repay

his devotion as it deserves."

She vanished within the gloomy portal, and Dr. Gay carried the message

to Colonel Brand, who swore a great oath that the girl had both sense

and spirit, and, with her castle to boot, would not make a bad

speculation.

So his next visit was paid at the old castle, and Margaret led him

through the length and breadth of it, and sought to trap him into

blundering over its various rooms and he answered all her questions

correctly, and comported himself with perfection as St. Udo Brand, and

left her in the evening, still and moody, thinking out her next secret

move to snare him.