Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 14 (29 page)

 
          
           
"Is that the Trevlyn coat of arms?" asked the boy abruptly, pointing
to a stone falcon with the motto ME AND MINE carved over the gate through which
they were passing.

 
          
           
"Yes. Why do you ask?"

 
          
           
"Mere curiosity; I know something of heraldry and often paint these things
for my own pleasure. One learns odd amusements abroad," he added, seeing
an expression of surprise on the woman's face.

 
          
           
"You'll have little time for such matters here. Come in and report
yourself to the keeper, and if you'll take my advice ask no questions of him,
for you'll get
no
answers."

 
          
           
"I seldom ask questions of men, as they are not fond of gossip." And
the boy nodded with a smile of mischievous significance as he entered the
keeper's lodge.

 
          
           
A sharp lad and a saucy, if he likes.
I'll keep my eye
on him, for my lady takes no more thought of such things than a child, and
Lillian cares for nothing but her own will. He has a taking way with him,
though, and knows how to flatter.
It's
well he does,
poor lad, for life's a hard matter to a friendless soul like him.

 
          
           
As she thought these thoughts Hester went on to the house, leaving Paul to win
the good graces of the keeper, which he speedily did by assuming an utterly
different manner from that he had worn with the woman.

 
          
           
That night, when the boy was alone in his own room, he wrote a long letter in
Italian describing the events of the day, enclosed a sketch of the falcon and
motto, directed it to "Father Cosmo Carmela, Genoa," and lay down to
sleep, muttering, with a grim look and a heavy sigh, "So far so well; I'll
not let my heart be softened by pity, or my purpose change till my promise is
kept. Pretty child, I wish I had never seen her!"

 
          
           
In a week Paul was a favorite with the household; even prudent Hester felt the
charm of his presence, and owned that Lillian was happier for a young companion
in her walks. Hitherto the child had led a solitary life, with no playmates of
her own age, such being the will of my lady; therefore she welcomed Paul as a
new and delightful amusement, considering him her private property and soon
transferring his duties from the garden to the house. Satisfied of his merits,
my lady yielded to Lillian's demands, and Paul was installed as page to the
young lady. Always respectful and obedient, he never forgot his place, yet
seemed unconsciously to influence all who approached him, and win the goodwill
of everyone.

 
          
           
My lady showed unusual interest in the lad, and Lillian openly displayed her
admiration for his accomplishments and her affection for her devoted young
servitor. Hester was much flattered by the confidence he reposed in her, for to
her alone did he tell his story, and of her alone asked advice and comfort in
his various small straits. It was as she suspected: Paul was a gentleman's son,
but misfortune had robbed him of home, friends, and parents, and thrown him
upon the world to shift for
himself
. This sad story
touched the woman's heart, and the boy's manly spirit won respect. She had lost
a son years
ago, and her empty heart yearned over the
motherless lad. Ashamed to confess the tender feeling, she wore her usual
severe manner to him in public, but in private softened wonderfully and enjoyed
the boy's regard heartily.

 
          
           
"Paul, come in. I want to speak with you a moment," said my lady,
from the long window of the library to the boy who was training vines outside.

 
          
           
Dropping his tools and pulling off his hat, Paul
obeyed,
looking a little anxious, for the month of trial expired that day. Lady Trevlyn
saw and answered the look with a gracious smile.

 
          
           
"Have no fears. You are to stay if you will, for Lillian is happy and I am
satisfied with you."

 
          
           
"Thank you, my lady." And an odd glance of mingled pride and pain
shone in the boy's downcast eyes.

 
          
           
"That is settled, then. Now let me say what I called you in for. You spoke
of being able to illuminate on parchment. Can you restore this old book for
me?"

 
          
           
She put into his hand the ancient volume Sir Richard had been reading the day
he died. It had lain neglected in a damp nook for years till my lady discovered
it, and, sad as were the associations connected with it, she desired to
preserve it for the sake of the weird prophecy if nothing else. Paul examined
it, and as he turned it to and fro in his hands it opened at the page oftenest
read by its late master. His eye kindled as he looked, and with a quick gesture
he turned as if toward the light, in truth to hide the flash of triumph that
passed across his face. Carefully controlling his voice, he answered in a
moment, as he looked up, quite composed, "Yes, my lady, I can retouch the
faded colors on these margins and darken the pale ink of the Old English text.
I like the work, and will gladly do it if you like."

 
          
           
"Do it, then, but be very careful of the book while in your hands. Provide
what is needful, and name your own price for the work," said his mistress.

 
          
           
"Nay, my lady, I am already paid—"

 
          
           
"How so?" she asked, surprised.

 
          
           
Paul had spoken hastily, and for an instant looked embarrassed, but answered
with a sudden flush on his dark cheeks, "You have been kind to me, and I
am glad to show my, gratitude in any way, my lady."

 
          
           
"Let that pass, my boy. Do this little service for me and we will see
about the recompense afterward." And with a smile Lady Trevlyn left him to
begin his work.

 
          
           
The moment the door closed behind her a total change passed over Paul. He shook
his clenched hand after her with a gesture of menace, then tossed up the old
book and caught it with an exclamation of delight, as he reopened it at the
worn page and reread the inexplicable verse.

 
          
           
"Another proof, another proof!
The work goes
bravely on, Father Cosmo; and boy as I am, I'll keep my word in spite of
everything," he muttered.

 
          
           
"What is that you'll keep, lad?" said a voice behind him.

 
          
           
"I'll keep my word to my lady, and do my best to restore this book, Mrs.
Hester," he answered, quickly recovering
himself
.

 
          
           
"Ah, that's the last book poor Master read. I hid it away, but my lady
found it in spite of me," said Hester, with a doleful sigh.

 
          
           
"Did he die suddenly, then?" asked the boy.

 
          
           
"Dear heart, yes; I found him dying in this room with the ink scarce dry
on the letter he left for my lady.
A mysterious business and
a sad one."

 
          
           
"Tell me about it. I like sad stories, and I already feel as if I belonged
to the family, a loyal retainer as in the old times. While you dust the books
and I rub the mold off this old cover, tell me the tale, please, Mrs. Hester."

 
          
           
She shook her head, but yielded to the persuasive look and tone of the boy,
telling the story more fully than she intended, for she loved talking and had
come to regard Paul as her own, almost.

 
          
           
"And the letter?
What was in it?" asked the
boy, as she paused at the catastrophe.

 
          
           
"No one ever knew but my lady."

 
          
           
"She destroyed it, then?"

 
          
           
"I thought so, till a long time afterward, one of the lawyers came
pestering me with questions, and made me ask her. She was ill at the time, but
answered with a look I shall never forget, 'No, it's not burnt, but no one
shall ever see it.' I dared ask no more, but I fancy she has it safe somewhere
and if it's ever
needed she'll
bring it out. It was
only some private matters, I fancy."

 
          
           
"And the stranger?"

 
          
           
"Oh, he vanished as oddly as he came, and has never been found.
A strange story, lad.
Keep silent, and let it rest."

 
          
           
"No fear of my tattling," and the boy smiled curiously to himself as
he bent over the book, polishing the brassbound cover.

 
          
           
"What are you doing with that pretty white wax?" asked Lillian the
next day, as she came upon Paul in a quiet corner of the garden and found him
absorbed in some mysterious occupation.

 
          
           
With a quick gesture he destroyed his work, and, banishing a momentary
expression of annoyance, he answered in his accustomed tone as he began to work
anew, "I am molding a little deer for you, Miss Lillian. See, here is a
rabbit already done, and I'll soon have a stag also."

 
          
           
"It's very pretty! How many nice things you can do, and how kind you are
to think of my liking something new. Was this wax what you went to get this
morning when you rode away so early?" asked the child.

 
          
           
"Yes, Miss Lillian. I was ordered to exercise your pony and I made him
useful as well. Would you like to try this? It's very easy."

 
          
           
Lillian was charmed, and for several days wax modeling was her favorite play.
Then she tired of it, and Paul invented a new amusement, smiling his
inexplicable smile as he threw away the broken toys of wax.

 
          
           
"You are getting pale and thin, keeping such late hours, Paul. Go to bed,
boy, go to bed, and get your sleep early," said Hester a week afterward,
with a motherly air, as Paul passed her one morning.

 
          
           
"And how do you know I don't go to bed?" he asked, wheeling about.

 
          
           
"My lady has been restless lately, and I sit up with her till she sleeps.
As I go to my room, I see your lamp burning, and last night I got as far as
your door, meaning to speak to you, but didn't, thinking you'd take it amiss.
But really you are the worse for late hours, child."

 
          
           
"I shall soon finish restoring the book, and then I'll sleep. I hope I
don't disturb you. I have to grind my colors, and often make more noise than I
mean to."

 
          
           
Paul fixed his eyes sharply on the woman as he spoke, but she seemed
unconscious of it, and turned to go on, saying indifferently, "Oh, that's
the odd sound, is it? No, it doesn't trouble me, so grind away, and make an end
of it as soon as may be."

 
          
           
An anxious fold in the boy's forehead smoothed itself away as he left her,
saying to himself with a sigh of relief, "A narrow escape; it's well I
keep the door locked."

 
          
           
The boy's light burned no more after that, and Hester was content till a new
worry came to trouble her. On her way to her room late one night, she saw a tall
shadow flit down one of the side corridors that branched from the main one. For
a moment she was startled, but, being a woman of courage, she followed
noiselessly, till the shadow seemed to vanish in the gloom of the great hall.

 
          
           
"If the house ever owned a ghost I'd say that's it, but it never did, so I
suspect some deviltry. I'll step to Paul. He's not asleep, I dare say. He's a
brave and a sensible lad, and with him I'll quietly search the house."

 
          
           
Away she went, more nervous than she would own, and tapped at the boy's door.
No one answered, and, seeing that it was ajar, Hester whisked in so hurriedly
that her candle went out. With an impatient exclamation at her carelessness she
glided to the bed, drew the curtain, and put forth her hand to touch the
sleeper. The bed was empty. A disagreeable thrill shot through her, as she
assured herself of the fact by groping along the narrow bed. Standing in the
shadow of the curtain, she stared about the dusky room, in which objects were visible
by the light of a new moon.

 
          
           
"Lord
bless
me, what is the boy about! I do
believe it was him I saw in the—" She got no further in her mental
exclamation for the sound of light approaching footsteps neared her. Slipping
around the bed she waited in the shadow, and a moment after Paul appeared,
looking pale and ghostly, with dark, disheveled hair, wide-open eyes, and a
cloak thrown over his shoulders. Without a pause he flung it off, laid himself
in bed, and seemed to sleep at once.

 
          
           
"Paul! Paul!" whispered Hester, shaking him, after a pause of
astonishment at the whole proceeding.

 
          
           
"Hey, what is it?" And he sat up, looking drowsily about him.

 
          
           
"Come, come, no tricks, boy. What are you doing, trailing about the house
at this hour and in such trim?"

 
          
           
"Why, Hester, is it you?" he exclaimed with a laugh, as he shook off
her grip and looked up at her in surprise.