Chapter XXVI: "for My Sake."

The late September afternoon was closing rapidly in when John Dyce helped his mistress to alight from her mare, which had been reined up close to the great, black, bolt-studded gates of Lanchester jail. It was a rare thing for those gates to be opened except for the admission of prisoners, the usual means of entrance and exit being by a postern in the wall no great distance away.

On this door Miss Baynard now proceeded to give three resounding blows with the huge iron knocker. Half a minute later a small wicket was opened, and a hirsute face peered out into the glowing darkness.

"Be good enough to have this note given to Captain Jeffs without a minute's delay," said Miss Baynard in her clear, imperious tones. "It is of the utmost importance. I will wait here while you obtain an answer." With that she handed in Sir James's note at the wicket, but on the top of it lay a shining guinea.

There was a grunt, and the wicket was shut.

While awaiting an answer, Nell drew from one of her pockets a long diaphanous black veil, which she proceeded to fix round the brim of her hat and to fasten in a knot behind in such a fashion that it came halfway down her face, leaving nothing of it exposed save her upper lip, her mouth, and her chin.

The wait seemed an intolerably long one, and her nerve was beginning to give way a little, when the wicket was opened for the second time, and the same hirsute face made its appearance. "The governor says it's beyont the hour for visitors, and that ye should have come earlier; but as ye're a friend o' Sir James Dalrymple's he'll admit ye. He sends word that he's sorry not to come and speak to ye hisself, but he's got company at dinner, and can't leave th' table." Such, in the gruffest of tones, was the doorkeeper's welcome message.

Then the wicket was closed again, and half a minute later the narrow black door had opened to admit Nell. She slipped in like a shadow, the postern was shut with a clash, and she found herself in a bare, flagged ante-room or entrance-hall, with three or four doors opening out of it, and dimly lighted with a couple of guttering candles. Here was a second man, like the first, in uniform, who carried in one hand a jingling bunch of keys, and to whom the doorkeeper introduced her with the remark, "This is Willyam, mum, who will show ye the way if ye will please to follow him."

"Then perhaps William will oblige me by accepting this trifle," said Miss Baynard; and before the turnkey knew what had happened there was a guinea nestling in his palm.

Then from some mysterious pocket Miss Baynard produced a large, flat bottle containing a quart of the most potent brandy in the Stanbrook cellars. "And here is something to share between you and to drink my health in," she added, as she proffered the bottle for the doorkeeper's acceptance, who took it as tenderly as if it had been a month-old baby.

"Eh, mum, but it's agen the rules to accept anything o' this sort," he remarked, with a wag of his head. "We'll not engage to drink it. No, no. Rules isn't made in order that they may be broke. We'll just hide it away where nobody but ourselves can find it, so as not to put temptation in the way of any other poor body." And with that the rascal favored his fellow-officer with a portentous wink.

The latter functionary now lighted a small lantern, and, having unlocked one of the inner doors, he said, "If you will be pleased to follow me, mum."

By this time Nell's nerves were worked up to a point of tension that was almost unendurable. She set her teeth hard and clenched her hands as if she intended never to open them again.

Success had attended her so far; would it desert her now? What she had already achieved was as nothing in comparison with that which was still before her. For a few moments it seemed as if the courage which had hitherto sustained her were about to give way.

As she followed the man she had merely a vague impression of a gloomy, flagged, earth-smelling corridor, lighted only by the turnkey's lantern; of a heavy iron door which had to be unlocked to allow of their further advance; of another corridor the counterpart of the first, save that on one side of it some half-dozen doors were ranged at intervals. At one of these her conductor came to a halt, and, having selected a key from his bunch, proceeded to unlock it. Then, flinging wide the door, he said in deep, gruff tones which seemed to fill the corridor, "Prisoner, a lady to see you," and with that he moved aside to allow Miss Baynard to enter.

At the words Dare sprang to his feet. He had been reading, stretched at full length on the pallet which served him for a bed by night and a couch by day. A wooden sconce, fixed against the wall, held a solitary candle of the coarsest tallow, which diffused a dim, sickly light through the cell. It was an indulgence his own pocket had to pay for. Had not the volume on which he was engaged been in large print he could not have seen to read it.

At sight of him all Nell's failing courage came back to her with a rush, mingled with a great wave of love and compassion. Hardly could she command her voice while she whispered to the turnkey, "Leave us for half-an-hour; don't come before."

"All right, mum," whispered the man back.

Then Nell stepped across the threshold of the cell, and the door was locked behind her. Dare, his book fallen unheeded to the floor, stood staring at her with wide-lidded eyes as though she were some visitant from the tomb. Nell responded to his amazement with a strangely-wistful smile, and eyes that no longer strove to hide a secret which, she flattered herself, they had never revealed before. She could not have spoken at that moment to save her life. She felt as if a spell were upon her; everything about her was unreal. Dare himself was not a creature of flesh and blood, but merely a projection of her own imagination. Some sorceress had thrown an enchantment over her which----

"Is it you, Miss Baynard, whom I see? and here, of all places in the universe!"

Dare's voice broke the spell that was upon her, and recalled to her, as in a flash, the very real business--the matter of life and death--which had taken her there, and which must be entered on without a minute's unnecessary delay.

"Yes, it is I, Mr. Dare," she answered in accents that were slightly tremulous. "You did me and mine a great, nay, an inestimable service; and I am here to see whether I cannot do something for you in return."

A bitter smile lit up his sallow features for a moment. "It is indeed good of you to have put yourself to so much trouble about such a worthless wretch as I. But, were I a hundred-fold more worthy than I am, neither you, Miss Baynard, nor any power on earth (save and except the King's clemency, which is altogether out of the question) could do aught to help me out of the coil of trouble which I have brought upon myself."

"Do not be too sure on that point, Mr. Dare. It is the humblest instruments which sometimes avail for the most difficult tasks. We have all read the fable of the lion and the mouse, and cases might arise in which even such an inconsiderable person as I, owing to my very insignificance might be able to do things which would be impossible in any one of greater importance." Her voice was firm enough by now, and her eyes confronted his unwaveringly. She had pushed up her veil till only an edge of it was visible across her forehead at the moment the turnkey had locked the door behind her.

Dare bowed, but looked slightly puzzled. To what was all this the prelude? That she had not come there without having some very special purpose in view he could no longer doubt. But merely to see her face again was to him what the sight of water is to some poor wretch dying of thirst in the desert. To himself he always spoke of her as the Lady of his Dreams.

"Will you not be seated, Miss Baynard?" he now said, as he brought forward a substantial three-legged stool, the only thing, except his pallet, he had to sit on. "My accommodation is of the simplest, as you can see for yourself. That, however, is not my fault, but an oversight (shall we call it?) on the part of my custodians, whose affection for me is so extreme that they cannot bear to part from me."

So Nell sat down on the three-legged stool, while Dare stood a little apart, with folded arms, resting a shoulder against the whitewashed wall of his cell.

Miss Baynard cleared her voice; the crucial moment had come at last.

"I am not here this evening, Mr. Dare, merely to sympathize with you," she resumed, "although that my most heartfelt sympathy is yours needs no assurance on my part, but to put before you a certain definite proposition, which has been carefully thought out in all its details, and the carrying out of which seems to me perfectly feasible. Here, in the fewest words possible--necessarily few because half an hour at the outside must bring my visit to an end--is my proposition. It is simply that you and I shall change places. In half a hour from now you shall quit this cell in the guise of Elinor Baynard, and I shall stay where I am, having, for the nonce, exchanged my personality for that of Mr. Geoffrey Dare."

Dare had sprung to "attention" long before Nell had come to an end. A wave of dark crimson swept across his lean face, leaving it sallower than before. His eyes lighted up with an intense glow. Would any woman, he asked himself, any woman who was young and beautiful, put such a proposition to a man if she did not love him? It was a question he did not wait to answer. He would have time enough to consider it later on.

"Never had an undeserving man a more noble offer made him than you have just made me. But, putting aside the insuperable difficulties in the way of carrying it out, there are other reasons which----"

"There are no insuperable difficulties in the way of carrying it out," broke in Nell. "Every arrangement has been made, as you shall presently hear. But remember this, that we have no time to waste in explanations or idle objections."

Dare bowed as accepting a correction. "Then permit me to say as briefly as may be, Miss Baynard, that it cannot be, that on no account whatever could I, or would I accept such a sacrifice at your hands."

"A sacrifice! Oh, the mockery of the phrase!" Although she spoke aloud, the words seemed addressed to herself rather than to Dare. She had removed her riding gloves, and the long, slender fingers of one hand now gripped those of the other convulsively. Her sharp, white teeth bit into her underlip and left their mark there. She seemed to be bracing herself for a final effort.

"You are no doubt aware," she resumed, "that your trial will come on in about three weeks from now."

"That is a circumstance I am not likely to forget."

"And have you considered, have you allowed your imagination to paint for you what the consequence will be should the verdict at your trial go against you?"

"As, considering the evidence which will be brought against me, it is nearly sure to do. Yes, I have fully considered the consequence, and may be said to be on pretty familiar terms with it by this time. But as for my imagination, I trust it is too well-bred to allow itself to dwell unnecessarily on details which are best kept in the background till the latest possible moment."

"And the prospect does not appall you?"

"Appall me? No. 'Tis not a pleasant one, I admit. But what would you? I played a game with Fate, the dice went against me, and I have lost. That, however, is no reason why I should bewail myself like a puling child, or why my cheek should blanch at the prospect which I shall presently be called upon to confront."

"But will you not see, cannot you comprehend, that a door of escape is open for you?" Her voice had in it a ring of almost passionate impatience. The precious minutes were drifting away one by one.

"Possibly so, but only at an expense which I do not choose to incur."

"Oh, what headstrong folly! Did the world ever see its like? And you would rather face your--your doom than accept this sacrifice, as you choose to call it, at my hands?"

"Even so. I have said it, and nothing will avail to move me from it."

For a moment or two she beat her hands together in an agony of helplessness. Then she stood up. Her face was colorless, and her forehead contracted as if with a spasm of intense pain.

"You do not know how cruel you are," she said in low, concentrated tones. "You drag from me things which I thought never to reveal to a living soul." She paused for a space of half-a-dozen heart-beats, as though fighting against some hidden emotion. Then she went on. "Should it be your fate to die, Geoffrey Dare, the same day that ends your life shall end mine! I swear it." She lifted up her hands and let her face sink into them.

An inarticulate cry broke from Dare, a great light leapt into his eyes, he drew a step nearer and held out both his arms. Then he half drew back, with his arms extended in mid-air. "Such words, unless I am a bad interpreter, can have but one meaning." He seemed to breathe the syllables rather than to speak them.

For a few seconds there was no reply, and when it did come he had to strain his ears or he would have lost it.

"Your death-day shall be mine. I have said it. Is not that enough?"

A moment later his arms were about her, and he was straining her passionately to his heart. "And you love me!--me!!" he ejaculated. "Oh, miracle of miracles!"

Sweet to him as a breath from Paradise was the whispered answer: "I have loved you ever since the night you were so kind to Jack Prentice."

It was three minutes later. With what passed in the interim we are in no way concerned.

"But consider, my darling, think and consider before it is too late," urged Dare. "That Miss Baynard of Stanbrook should stoop to love Captain Nightshade--a highwayman--a minion of the moon! No, it must not be! And I--I should be a scoundrel to accept so great a gift, unless----"

A hand was laid on his lips. "Oh, hush! I will not listen to such words. You steal away a poor girl's heart, and then you bid her think and consider! Too late, too late. But never, never will I forgive you for having wrung my secret from me! Yet, what am I saying? On one condition I will forgive you fully and freely."

"And that is----?"

"That without a word more of demur you do your share in helping me to carry out the scheme which brought me here. What that scheme is I have already told you."

"But, my dearest----"

For the second time a hand was laid on his lips. "Not a word! I will not listen. You will do it, if not for your own sake, then for mine. Do you hear? For mine."

"For yours, then, let it be," he assented, but for the life of him he could not see by what means she purposed carrying out her extraordinary proposition.

The prison clock began to boom the hour. Miss Baynard started. "Heavens! Our little slice of time more than half gone, and nothing done!"

Then, without a word more, she untied her short gray cloak and laid it aside. Under it she had on a loosely fitting bodice and her long riding skirt, both of which garments a couple a minutes later lay in a heap on the floor; and then to Dare's astonished eyes there stood revealed the seeming figure of a young man, wearing a ruffled shirt and cravat, a pair of dark small clothes and Hessian boots--all at one time the property of unfortunate Dick Cortelyon. Only the plumed hat, the veil, and the heavy chestnut curls still remained to bespeak their owner's sex. But Nell's hands went quickly up to her head, there were a few deft movements of her fingers, and the whole paraphernalia--hat, veil, and ringlets came bodily away. Well might Dare's eyes open themselves still wider. Before leaving home she had shorn off her wealth of tresses, and then, by means of some feminine sleight-of-hand, had contrived to secure them to the inner side of her hat in such a way that when the hat was worn the curls lay in quite natural fashion round the nape of the neck.

Nor was Dare's wonder yet to end. From a pocket in her small-clothes Nell now drew forth a black wig, a masquerade relic of poor Dick's, and proceeded to draw it on over her close-cropped chestnut locks. Then turning to her companion, who had been regarding her all this time without a word, she said in mock-serious tones, "Your coat and vest, sir, or your life!"

At once Dare divested himself of the articles in question, and when Nell had inducted herself into them her transformation was complete, and a very dashing and debonair young buck she looked.

"And now it is high time for Miss Baynard to make _her_ toilet," she remarked; "but such an awkward young woman is she that it may be as well I should lend her a helping hand."

Dare, who recognized the futility of any further opposition, yielded himself into her hands and did exactly as she bade him. Although Nell was tall, he was three inches taller than she, but the riding skirt admitted of ample allowance for the difference. When, however, it came to the bodice, that garment cracked ominously, and the hooks and eyes wholly refused to come together. But, happily, the gray cloak was ample enough to hide all shortcomings.

Lastly, the elaborate headdress--hat, veil, and curls--had to be adjusted. This was a matter of some nicety, but presently it was accomplished to Miss Baynard's satisfaction. Then, stepping back a pace, she took a general survey of her handiwork. "Yes, I think you'll do," she said, "although you do look so preternaturally tall. On no account must you either speak or cough, and do for goodness' sake try to mitigate that seven-league stride of yours. I suppose that, try as you might, you couldn't mince or bridle a little, as all young ladies are supposed to do?"

Although she spoke with such seeming levity, her nerves were all a-tingle with mingled apprehension and excitement. She felt as if she were strapped down on the operating table, and waiting for the coming of the surgeon with his terrible knife.

The only remark made by Dare during the process of his transformation was when Nell was on the point of crowning him with the hat and curls. With a caressing touch on one of the tresses, he said: "Oh, my dear one, to think you should have done this for me! What a sacrifice! Can I ever forgive you?"

"Of course you can," she answered lightly. "Am I not making you a present of the rubbish, to do what you like with? Some lovers think themselves well off if they can secure a tiny tress of their mistress' hair, but so great is _my_ generosity that I freely present you with enough to stuff a sofa cushion."

He caught her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

But now was heard a faint sound as of the unlocking and opening of a door in the distance, and then, heralded by a cough, the noise of approaching footsteps on the flagged floor of the corridor. Instead of a bare thirty minutes, our young people had been nearly an hour together. Whether the guineas and the brandy were in any way concerned with such a liberal measurement of time is more than one would undertake to decide.

"The time to part has come," said Nell in a hurried whisper. "Listen. My man John Dyce is waiting outside, in charge of my mare. He may be trusted implicitly. He has had his instructions, and will ask no questions. The future I leave wholly in your hands."

More was impossible. The turnkey was at the door. After a preliminary rap on it, he called out, "Time's up long since, mum. Are you ready?"

"Quite ready, William, thank you," was Miss Baynard's clear response.

So William unlocked the door, and drew it back on its hinges. What he saw when he had done so was his prisoner, as it seemed to him, seated on his pallet in a dejected attitude, with bowed head, and his elbows resting on his knees; nor did he so much as look up at the opening of the door.

Just inside, waiting apparently for the opening of the door, and with her back to the candle, was the young lady visitor, whose face was now wholly hidden by her veil. As soon as the door was opened she passed out without a word, and then stood aside for a moment, while it was shut and relocked. That done, William, swinging his hand-lantern, and not, it must sorrowfully be confessed, quite so steady on his feet as he had been earlier in the evening, led the way, in happy ignorance of the peck of trouble he was brewing for himself.

Hardly was the cell door shut before Nell was kneeling by it with one ear pressed to its cold iron surface. The footsteps died into silence, then as before, was heard the clash of a distant door, and after that all was still with a stillness as of the tomb.

Then Nell stood up, a great calm, a great happiness almost, shining out of her eyes. "If only I have succeeded in saving him," she said aloud, "nothing else matters!"

But next moment her overwrought nerves gave way. Staggering across the floor and flinging herself face downward on the pallet, she burst into a tempest of tears.