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Updated: June 22, 2025
"The first Gaston showed us the way. His wife was a strolling player's daughter. Good-bye, sir." Lady Belward's face was in her hands. "Good-bye-grandmother," he said at the door, and then he was gone. At the outer door the old housekeeper stepped forward, her gloomy face most agitated. "Oh, sir, oh, sir, you will come back again? Oh, don't go like your father!"
He drew out a rosary, and disregarding Belward's outstretched hand, said: "By the Mother of God, I will never leave you!" There was a kind of wondering triumph in Belward's eyes, though he had at first shrunk from Jacques's action, and a puzzling smile came. "Wherever I go, or whatever I do?" "Whatever you do, or wherever you go." He put the rosary to his lips, and made the sign of the cross.
He was the son of a gentleman; and, as we discovered afterwards, Robert had been too intimate with the wife his one sin of the kind, I believe. Ian came to know, and prevented the rescue. Meanwhile, Robert was liable to the law for the attempt. There was a bitter scene here, and I fear that my wife and I said hard things to Robert." Gaston's eyes were on Lady Belward's portrait.
The landlord was at Belward's elbow. "The gentleman on the box-seat be from Ridley Court. That's Maister Ian Belward, sir." Gaston Belward's eyes half closed, and a sombre look came, giving his face a handsome malice. He wound his fingers in his horse's mane, and put a foot in the stirrup. "Who is 'Maister Ian'?" "Maister Ian be Sir William's eldest, sir. On'y one that's left, sir.
Then she read Sir William Belward's letter, and afterwards Captain Maudsley's. "It has all come at once," she said: "the girl and these! What will you do? Give 'the woman' up for the honour of the Master of the Hounds?" The tone was bitter, exasperating. Gaston was patient. "What do you think, Andree?" "It has only begun," she said. "Wait, King of Ys. Read that other letter."
"But I am here to look an English gentleman, not a grand seigneur, nor a company's trader on a break. Never mind, the thing will wait till we stand in my ancestral halls," he added, with a dry laugh. They neared the Court. The village church was close by the Court-wall. It drew Belward's attention. One by one lights were springing up in it.
Leaving her bag at the Gare Montparnasse, she had gone straight to Ian Belward's house. She had lived years in the last few hours. She had had no sleep on the journey, and her mind had been strained unbearably. It had, however, a fixed idea, which shuttled in and out in a hundred shapes, but ever pointing to one end. She had determined on a painful thing the only way.
Meanwhile the seeker after a kingdom was shown into Sir William Belward's study. No one was there. He walked to the mantelpiece, and, leaning his arm on it, looked round. Directly in front of him on the wall was the picture of a lady in middle-life, sitting in an arbour. A crutch lay against one arm of her chair, and her left hand leaned on an ebony silver-topped cane.
Agatha then became serious, and said that Delia was at least four years older than himself, that he was just her Agatha's age, and that the other match would be very unsuitable. This put Cluny on Delia's defence, and he praised her youth, and hinted at his own elderliness. She advised him to go and ask Mr. Belward's advice; begged him not to act until he had done so.
If you had daughters of your own, you would probably be more careful though Heaven only knows, for you were always difficult!" With this they vanished up the staircase, Mrs. Gasgoyne's daughters, Delia and Agatha, smiling at each other and whispering about Gaston. Meanwhile the seeker after a kingdom was shown into Sir William Belward's study. No one was there.
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