The Smile of the Stranger (21 page)

“But, good heavens, madame—” Juliana had not considered the possibility of such a refusal. “Now Prue is on your hands
!
What can be done with her?”

“You do not know where to find her mother?”

“All I know of her is that her name is Tillie, and that she is in Southampton with a broken leg, and sent her child away to the grandfather.”

“Oh, well, perhaps Milord Egg will be able to trace her.”

Madame appeared to have complete faith in the ability of this nobleman. “In the meantime she may go to live at
la grande maison
, where she will have plenty of other children to play with.”

“You mean the workhouse?” Juliana said, rather troubled.

“
Mais non
!
Chez
Milord Egg
.”

At this point little Prue herself appeared, bowling her hoop along the path and demanding to play with the “pussy,” so Juliana felt it would not be proper to ask any more questions just then, though by now she was feeling the liveliest curiosity regarding this mysterious character.

Little Prue, after the manner of children, had completely habituated herself to her new surroundings; two good meals and a night
’
s sleep had done wonders for her. The swelling on her nose had abated somewhat, helped by a dab of bright
-
red Pimpernel ointment applied by Berthe. She grabbed Juliana by the hand, crying, “Miss! Miss! Come see the pussy
!
”

The “pussy” proved to be a small gray pet monkey, a present, it seemed, from Milord Egg. Its name, Madame said, was Mistigris, and it lived in a cage near the Rumford stove in the kitchen. Prue demanded, and was given, permission to take him out into the garden on his leash. The day being Sunday, there were no builders working on the new wing of the house, and, as the garden was completely enclosed, Madame said she saw no reason why Juliana should not take the air in it also. “But do not stray into the street! When the inquiry for the lost young lady has died down and been forgotten, you shall be my dear niece, who escaped across the Channel with the gentlemen; such crossings are not uncommon.”

Accordingly, attired in an old blue muslin robe of her hostess
’
s, Juliana sat out on a bench, watching Prue scamper up and down the long grass alley between the two little garden pavilions, alternately bowling the hoop and chasing the monkey. The sun shone warmly on the innocent scene, and Juliana looked out over the valley, wondering where her mother was now. Would she still be in the town, searching for her daughter? Or scouring the countryside round about? What was the relation between her and Captain Davenport? Was I very cowardly, Juliana wondered, not to confront her? But if she had exerted her parental rights, and made me marry him? How strange to think that, even yesterday, that was the thing of all others that I wanted to do!

For the first time Juliana wondered why, if her mother had been party to the scheme, it had been thought needful to go all the way to Scotland. Surely, with parental consent, a marriage would have been possible anywhere? Perhaps it never
had
been intended to go to Scotland? And this brought her back to the original question, why had the plot been formed in the first place? For whose gain? If Captain Davenport had no money, how could her mother stand to benefit by it? Or how could he?

Baffled by these insoluble problems, Juliana glanced after little Prue, who had disappeared with Mistigris into the left
-
hand pavilion, a small stone building, with glass doors and windows, built as a continuation of the wall that overhung the valley. Below it the ground dropped sharply away, so that its windows commanded a handsome prospect.

At this moment Prue came dashing out of the open door, screaming agitatedly, “Miss! Miss! Come quick! The pussy
’
s gone down the
‘
ole!”

“What is the matter?” Oh, mercy, Juliana thought; if the child has contrived to lose Madame
’
s pet, we shall hardly be welcome guests.

She entered the little pavilion, which was furnished with a rustic table and chairs, and a cane chaise longue.

“There—see—the pussy went there!” exclaimed little Prue, clutching her by the hand and pointing to the corner. Here, Juliana was disconcerted to discover a square hole in the floor, with a trapdoor standing open, and an iron ladder leading downward into a deep dark cavity, from which a strong smell of wine rose up. An icehouse—no, Madame
’
s cellar, was her first thought—how singular to have it so far from the house—and then she remembered Madame
’
s remark, “They leave their goods in my little
kiosque
.”
There must, perhaps, be a second entrance to the underground chamber, leading out into the valley.

“The pussy went down the ole,” repeated Prue fearfully, clinging to Juliana
’
s hand.

“Well, I will go down after him,” resolved Juliana. “But
you
had best not.”

“Oo,
no!
I
’
d be frit to death.” Prue let go her hold, and, rather nervously, Juliana climbed over the edge of the trap, and let herself down the ladder.

“Be you all right, miss?” Prue called. “Can you see Misty?”

“I am still climbing down the ladder,” Juliana called back.

She had to descend some fifteen rungs, widely spaced apart, and then stood still a moment, while her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, which came only from the opening above her. When she began to see, she discovered, as she had expected, that she was in a brick vault, surrounded by a number of casks, and a powerful smell of liquor.

The errant Mistigris was sitting on one of the barrels, but as soon as Juliana made for him, he swung himself down and scampered away into a dark
corner
. Going after him, she was discouraged to find an opening, apparently the end of a passageway, into which the monkey had disappeared.

I cannot follow him in
there
, she thought at first, panic
-
stricken, for
t
he passage looked dark as a chimney; but then she thought of what she owed Madame Reynard and resolved to try. Luckily she now observed a flint and steel, and a bundle of rushlights, lying on a ledge in the brick wall.

“Miss
!
Miss
!
Where be you?” Prue called anxiously.

“The monkey has run into a hole. I am going after him
!
” Juliana called back. “Do you stay there, and let us hope that I can catch Misty before. Madame knows that he is lost.”

“I
’
m afeared,” whined Prue dolefully. “Suppose there
’
s summat
bad
down there!”

Stifling feelings of a similar nature, Juliana told her not to be a goose, and lit one of the rushlights. This disclosed a narrow rock tunnel, which was evidently much used, for there were many trampled footprints in its clay floor. Of Mistigris there was no sign, but she started resolutely along the passage. After walking some distance, she began to feel more and more nervous; there was still no trace of her quarry, and she wondered where the passage could possibly be taking her; she must by now have traversed several hundred yards, and still there was no end to it! Several times she was on the point of turning back, but she could not bear to admit defeat and the loss of the monkey; so she kept on. At last she was rewarded by a glimmer of light ahead, and came to the foot of a flight of stone steps.

It was from a half-open door at the top of the stairs that the light emanated; to Juliana
’
s joy she now perceived the monkey crouching in the doorway and looking back at her as if teasing her to follow. She ran up the steps and thought she had him, but he slipped through the door just before her hands had closed on him, and darted across the room beyond, which was a vaulted brick chamber like that below Madame
’
s summerhouse, except that there were no wine barrels in this room. More steps led up out of it to another door, also slightly open; and the exasperating Mistigris bounded up the steps and through the crack of the upper door with Juliana in eager pursuit, so sure she could catch him that she never stopped to wonder where the chase was leading her, until she was fairly through the second door, when she was suddenly brought short by a man
’
s voice exclaiming, “God bless my soul! Who the deuce have we here?”

Juliana came to an abrupt halt, looking around her in astonishment and confusion. She now found herself in a most extraordinary room, which seemed at least a hundred feet long. Its width was about a third of its length and the walls
were painted black. White lines were described in a regular pattern on both walls and floor. A gallery with a sloping roof ran around three sides of the room; it was netted over, as if to keep in prisoners, and a strip of netting about three feet high ran across the middle of the room from side to side. Two men clad in trousers, white shirts, and waistcoats stood regarding Juliana with expressions of considerable surprise; one of them was middle-aged, the other younger. They held long-handled racquets in their hands, and, now that she had collected herself enough to think rationally, Juliana realized that by some extraordinary means she had blundered into a tennis court
—
though how a smugglers
’
passage should lead into such a place, she found it hard to imagine!

The wayward Mistigris, who seemed perfectly at home here, had snatched up a ball from the stone floor, and, holding it in his paw, was swinging across the dividing net in the center.

“Mistigris I know,” said the older man, who was standing nearer to Juliana, “and, seeing him, I understand why you are here—try if you can catch him, Socket!—but who
you
can be, my dear, has me in a fair puzzle! Do enlighten me, I beg!”

“Truly, sir, I beg your pardon,” Juliana said, rather breathlessly—his amused glance made her feel like an untidy, blundering child. “I—I am Madame Reynard
’
s niece! And, as you see, I was trying to recapture Mistigris—I had no notion that the passage led into your tennis court, or I would not have trespassed. I must apologize again.”

“Madame
’
s
niece?
Well, by all that
’
s famous! Here have I been acquainted with her these twenty years, and never even knew that she
had
a niece. What reserve! I see very little resemblance,” he added, studying Juliana with twinkling eyes, “though it
’
s true that you are of the same coloring; but your features, my dear, are cast in a more delicate mold. Well, well! Only to think of
’
Lise having a niece. And how did you arrive, my child?”

“Well, sir—” began Juliana, blushing and confused.

The gentleman, on observing her hesitation, misunderstood the cause and said kindly, “No, no, never mind! I can guess without your telling. You came along with Ebenezer Lee—not to mention my burgundy and claret and my
half anchor
of rum and the Hyson tea that Madam can
’
t be without—that
’
s it, eh?”

Juliana curtsied without replying. By now she had guessed that her interlocutor could be none other than “Milord Egg” and she studied him with as much curiosity and interest as he was giving her. She saw a medium-sized man, in his mid-forties, with a trim, well-knit figure. He had a long, hawk-like nose, a long upper lip, a fresh-colored complexion, and a look of quiet humor, derived from the set of his eyes, which tilted down at the outer
corner
s, and a slight quirk at the
corner
of his mouth. His hair was cut short and his dress very plain, though of superior quality. His neckcloth, though snowy white, was somewhat carelessly tied.

“Do
you
think that Mam
’
selle has a look of Madame
’
Lise, Socket?” he asked the younger man, who, having at last caught the monkey, now approached them.

“Well—perhaps—just a little,” said the latter, rather doubtfully. “The shape of the head is similar. Here is your aunt
’
s pet, miss. Would you like me to carry him home for you?”

“Ay, see her back along the passage, Ned; we are used to it, but the young lady is not,” said Milord Egg. “In the circumstances, it was very brave of you, my child, to chase after that naughty beast. One of these days it will get stuck up a tree that nobody can climb, and I for one shan
’
t weep millstones. Give my respects to your aunt, my dear, and tell her that I shall give myself the pleasure of calling in this afternoon to improve our acquaintance. Goodbye for the present!”

“Goodbye, sir—and my apologies again,” Juliana said, curtsying.