"the earl dead!" murmured beatrice in a tone of awe. "death! that was no part of lorelie's design." and, after a brief pause, she added, "it is the judgment of god."
awe-struck by the terrible ending of the play the whispering guests began a hurried departure. idris, however, at godfrey's suggestion, remained behind.
the body of olave ravengar, un-lawful earl of ormsby, was carried to the chamber usually assigned to the lying-in-state of the dead lords of ravenhall.
having attended to this duty ivar, passing through the entrance-hall, suddenly caught sight of idris in conversation with godfrey.
for a moment he stared superciliously at his rival.
"impostor!" he muttered, with affected indignation. "john! roger!" he continued, addressing two tall footmen who stood near, "put this fellow outside the park gates."
"perhaps," said godfrey, quietly, "as your title is at present in question, it will be well to wait till it be legally ascertained whether you have the right to give orders here."
ivar scowled, first at the speaker, then at the throng of mute and immovable servants, who showed little disposition to acknowledge his authority.
his mind reverted to lorelie, the author of this, his downfall: had she chosen to keep his secret he might have retained his usurped rank. she should suffer for[pg 345] this: she at least was his, if ravenhall were not, and he would exercise his authority by applying a horsewhip to her shoulders. it would be a pleasure to hear her screams! yes: he would do it, though his father were lying dead in the house. there was an additional pleasure in the thought that by subjecting lorelie to indignity and humiliation he would be mortifying idris.
"where is lady walden?" he demanded, turning upon one of the servants. "i must," he continued, with an ugly smile at idris, "i must have a word with her."
"your wife—she repudiates the title of lady walden—is now at wave crest," replied godfrey. "i am desired by her to state that you will never see her again."
"indeed?" sneered ivar, haughtily. "she shall return. a wife's place is by her husband's side."
"that sentiment comes with an ill grace from an adulterer who once offered his wife poison to drink," responded godfrey.
ivar grew white to the very lips.
"what do you mean?" he muttered. "o, i see! some wild accusation of lorelie's. honourable gentlemen, ye are!" he continued, with an assumption of dignity that sat somewhat awkwardly upon him. "honourable gentlemen, to corrupt a wife, and use her as a tool against her husband! this stage-play of to-night, this hypnotizing of my father's mind, this forcing him to utter whatever you wish, has been very finely arranged on the part of you all. it is a plot to deprive me of my rights. you shall hear what my solicitor has to say on the matter. it is one thing to claim an estate, and another to make good the claim."
"quite so," replied godfrey, who acted as spokesman for idris, since the latter was too much bewildered by the novelty and strangeness of his position to say [pg 346]anything: "quite so. and therefore we have invited your solicitor to an interview with us to-morrow morning at ten o'clock in the library, when i trust you will be present, for we shall offer you abundant proofs of our position."
on the following morning ivar repaired to the library, where he found the late earl's solicitor in company with idris and godfrey.
ivar was well aware that idris was the rightful heir of ravenhall. his only hope was that the other might find it impossible to prove the legitimacy of his title. but in this he was quickly doomed to disappointment.
with a face that grew darker and darker he listened to the evidence that had been accumulated by the joint labours of lorelie and beatrice. the prior and secret marriage of the old earl, urien ravengar, with the village maiden, agnes marville: the birth of a child named eric, together with idris' legitimate filiation to the latter, were all clearly set forth.
the lawyer was at first disposed to be sceptical, but became fully convinced in the end.
"i fear it is of no use to dispute the evidence," he whispered to ivar. "contest the claim and you're sure to lose. better to appeal to the generosity of your newfound cousin and heir, and try to come to some monetary arrangement with him."
ivar sat for a few minutes in moody silence. then, looking up and scowling at idris, he muttered:—
"if i've got to give up ravenhall, i may as well go at once. i won't be beholden to that fellow for a roof."
"surely you will remain till your father's funeral shall have taken place?" said idris.
"damn the funeral!" muttered the late viscount, savagely. "what good shall i do myself by waiting for[pg 347] it? will it bring the governor back to life? i'll not stay here to be pitied, and jeered at, as the discoroneted viscount. you killed my father by your wiles. you yourselves can now bury him."
and with these words he passed through the doorway and was gone: and even the coroner's summons failed to secure his attendance at the inquest held upon the body of the earl. lorelie was present, and, after giving her evidence, quietly withdrew, accompanied by beatrice.
but when idris, a few hours later, called at wave crest, he was met on the threshold by beatrice with the tidings that lorelie had left ormsby.
"where has she gone?"
"indeed i do not know," replied beatrice, who looked the picture of grief. "she would not tell me her destination or plans. i did my best to persuade her to stay, but in vain."
* * * * * *
a year after lorelie's disappearance there occurred in a society-paper a paragraph relative to an event which, however melancholy in itself, could scarcely be viewed by idris with any other feeling than that of satisfaction. this event was the death of ivar, who was said to have been carried off by fever in an obscure lodging in london. inquiries on the part of idris proved that the story was true: and he found, moreover, that ivar, in his last hours, had been nursed by a lady whose description answered to that of lorelie.
the forgiving and generous disposition evinced by this act did but endear her the more to idris.
but where was she? he was certain that she loved him. why then did she continue to hide herself?
all attempts on his part to trace her failed completely:[pg 348] and a haunting fear seized him that she had retired for life to the seclusion of a french convent.
two years went by, and idris had almost given up the hope of ever seeing her again, when, passing one afternoon by the church of st. oswald, he heard the sound of its organ.
attracted, partly by the music, partly by the thought that it was in this church that he had first set eyes upon lorelie, he entered the ravengar chantry, and sat down to listen.
something in the style of the music caused a strange suspicion to steal over him. he rose, walked quietly forward, and gazed up at the organ-loft.
the musician was lorelie!
screening himself from view he waited till she had finished her playing: waited till she had dismissed her attendant-boy, and then quietly intercepted her as she was passing through the ravengar chantry.
she started, and seemed almost dismayed at seeing him.
"i—i did not know you were at ormsby," she murmured. "i thought you were on the continent."
"lorelie, where have you been so long?"
"i have been living in the south of france for the past two years. a few days ago a longing came upon me to see ormsby once more, and——"
she ceased speaking, and her eyes drooped as idris gently held her by the wrists.
"and now that you are here," he said, "do you think that i shall ever let you go again? lorelie, you know how much i love you. why, then, have you avoided me? but for you i should not now possess a coronet: is it not fair that you should share it?"
"no: idris, this must not be," she murmured, gently essaying to free herself. "there is one who loves you better than i—one more deserving of your love."
[pg 349]
"and who is that?"
"beatrice."
"and is it on her account that you have absented yourself so long, willing to sacrifice your own happiness to hers? lorelie, you are too generous. beatrice is indeed a charming and pretty maiden, and had i never seen you i might perhaps have loved her. i had the conceit that she might be growing fond of me, so i took steps to cure her of the fancy."
"how?" asked lorelie, with wondering eyes.
"by showing her that there are much finer fellows than myself in existence. with godfrey's consent i took her to london. at ormsby i was a hero in her eyes, for there were few here with whom she might measure me: but in london it was different. 'pretty miss ravengar' became quite an attraction in society. eligible young men surrounded her, eager for a glance and a smile: and—well—to make my story short, next spring we shall have to address our little trixie as lady st. cyril. she will have half the viking's treasure as her dowry. and so, you see, my sweet countess——"
their lips drew near and met in one long, clinging kiss.
in the circle of idris' arms lorelie found a refuge from all her past troubles. fair and clear before her the future lay like a sunny sparkling lake with one barque gliding over it: idris was the steersman, and she had nothing to do but to lie back on silken pillows, still and happy, and float wherever he chose to direct.
