The Masqueraders

‘Thank God!’

‘Oh, my child, where have you been?’

‘Once more your good friends to the rescue!’

Robin leaned out to speak to Sir Humphrey. ‘I bring her back to you again, sir. I daresay she will tell you more than I am permitted to know. I don’t need to ask you to be kind to her.’

Sir Humphrey sighed. ‘Another scrape! I have to thank you once more, ma’am.’

‘There is not the necessity, sir. We happened to chance that way; we had been visiting at Barnet. Take her in, sir: she’s worn out, and, I believe, has suffered much. Drive on, John.’

‘You will not enter? A glass of wine – ?’

‘I thank you, sir, but it grows late, and we must hurry back to my Lady Lowestoft’s. You’re ready, my Peter?’

Letty, clinging to her father’s arm, watched the chaise roll away down the street, with the neat figure of Mr Merriot riding behind it. She heaved a deep sigh, and whispered urgently: ‘Papa, papa, I must speak with you alone! Send Aunt to bed!’

Miss Grayson the elder was in a severe bustle. ‘Letitia, you pass all bounds! Come within doors, for heaven’s sake, brother. You will explain yourself, Letitia, if you please. How came you to be lost in the gardens, and where, pray, have you been?’

They stood now in the lit hall of the house. Letty shook her head wearily, and cast an appealing, urgent glance up into her father’s face. His mood was of annoyance at this fresh escapade, but he read such lingering horror in his daughter’s brown eyes that he silenced his sister. ‘I will have a talk with Letitia myself, sister, with your leave. Come into the library, child: you will be the better for a glass of Madeira.’

Miss Grayson was affronted. ‘As Letitia’s chaperon, brother, I feel I have the right to know more of this!’ she declared.

‘So you shall, Cordelia, but later. Do not let us forget that I am Letty’s father.’

Hearing that note in her brother’s voice Miss Grayson thought it as well to retire. She sniffed loudly, and saying that she hoped Sir Humphrey would read his erring child a sharp lesson, flounced off up the stairs to her own apartment.

Sir Humphrey took Letty into the library, where a fire burned still. With austere kindliness he forbade all attempt at explanation until she should have swallowed some wine. This was soon brought by a curious servant. Letty was obliged to drink, and her father had the satisfaction of seeing some of the colour return to her pale cheeks.

She put back her cloak, and with quivering fingers pulled the letter from the bosom of her gown. ‘Take it, Papa! Take it, and burn it!’ she said in a voice of strong agitation.

Surprised he received the paper, and unfolded it. An exclamation broke from him; he stood with the letter in his hand, staring down at his daughter. ‘How came you by this?’

Her tired eyelids fluttered upwards. ‘Mr Markham had it.’

‘That scoundrel! He gave it to you?’ Sir Humphrey’s voice was sharp with anxiety. ‘Good God, child, don’t tell me –’ He broke off, afraid to put his dread into words.

‘He said – he said he would expose you unless I would elope with him again. I could not think of a way out.’ She clasped her hands nervously in her lap. ‘He said if I told you he would publish the letter. There seemed to be nothing I could do. I was to fly with him to-night: I did not want to, papa! I have been so miserable! We reached as far as to Finchley Common, and then –’ She stopped, and after a moment’s hesitation leaned forward in her chair. ‘Papa, if I tell you the truth, will you promise to keep it secret? I am bound to divulge nothing, but I must tell you. He could not have meant me not to tell you. If I don’t you could never understand. But you must keep it secret, papa, or I may not tell you!’

He put the letter into the fire, and watched it shrivel, and burn. ‘Hush, child! My poor girl, you suffer for my folly, but that villain imposed on you. There was not enough in that paper to send me to the gallows.’

‘Was there not?’ she had but a faint interest in it now. ‘I did not know. But you do not promise, papa! you do not promise!’

He sat down beside her and took her hand. ‘What is this secret? You won’t tell without my promise? Why then, I must give it you. Don’t keep aught back fro

m me, Letty!’

‘I must go back so far,’ she said hurriedly. ‘As far as to the masked ball my Lady Dorling gave. You remember?’ The whole story came tumbling out, and ended with the Unknown’s reappearance this evening.

Sir Humphrey was thunderstruck. A gasp escaped him at the tale of the duel; he put a quick question or two, and seemed to be almost incredulous. When his daughter came to the end he rose up from his chair, and took a turn about the room, his hands linked behind his back. ‘Markham dead!’ he ejaculated several times. ‘Good God, the scandal!’

‘I know, I know, but I could not help it, papa!’

‘No, it has been my fault,’ he said sadly. ‘And but for this strange masked man you would be in a bad case now. We must brave it out. But have you no notion who your preserver may be? If he knows you, you must surely know him!’

‘I do not, papa. He is not like any man of our acquaintance.’ A blush flooded her cheeks. ‘Papa…’

He observed her heightened colour. ‘Well, child?’