Part 16

She flushed, and her eyes went toward the window.

"Just so!" he said. "I was sitting there, and saw it all--saw you leave, heard you come to my door and listen, saw you return, a moment, to him--and, now, you come again--and it is for the letter. You know that he is not Parkington, that he is an impostor--consequently, he must have told you something which explains. What was it?"

"He acknowledged that he was not Parkington; that he----"

"I told you, specifically, not to mention the letter to him!" said the Governor.

"And I obeyed you," she answered. "Not until he had, voluntarily and of his own free will, confessed, did I refer to the letter."

The Governor beat a tattoo on the table with his finger-tips.

"Who does he say he is?" he asked, presently.

She told him.

"Huh! Doncaster's son, is he! How does he explain the letters, and the impersonation?"

She told him.

When she had finished, he sat silent, pulling at his chin.

"Do you think him serious in his love-making?" he asked.

"He did me the honor to propose," she said.

"Hum!--And do you--care for him?"

"As much as I shall ever care for any man," she answered (thinking of Maynadier). "Furthermore, it would be an excellent match for me."

"An excellent match, if he speaks truly. There are none better, in all England, than the De Lysles."

"He offered to wait, until we got to England, for the wedding."

"Hum--that makes something for sincerity, at least.--So, you wish to marry him, my dear?"

"I think I do," she said--"that is, if he is a De Lysle."

He shook his head, sadly. "I am sorry, Martha, to have to injure your prospects, but I must act as the Governor, and it is his duty to call him to account. He has misused the proprietor's letters, and our hospitality."

"But you gave me the letter," she expostulated. "What other proof have you that he is an impostor?"

"I gave you the letter to relieve you of all participation," the Colonel said. "I do not need it. I have abundant evidence without it, and there may be more, besides."

She gave a little gasp, and sat up.

"Then I can do nothing?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, his hand stroking tenderly the dark tresses--"the matter must go on to its finish. The people of the Province shall not say that I knew he was an impostor, yet did not expose him. I regret it, my dear, but when one takes another's name, he commits a crime against society which cannot be tolerated."

"What shall I tell him?" she asked.

"Tell him you have the letter, and that the Governor will not use the information it contained."

"That will be the truth," she reflected.

"It will," he said; "and, further, you need not go."

And she, knowing it was useless to argue or implore, kissed him, and went, slowly, the letter of Lady Catherwood clutched tightly in her fingers.

She had no opportunity to communicate with Parkington until after breakfast, other than a significant nod, as his eyes sought hers, inquiringly. When the meal was finished, he joined her, and, presently, they sauntered out together.

"I have the letter," she said.

"You are a dear!" he exclaimed.

"And I have, also, the Governor's promise not to use either it, or the information it contains."

"You are a darling!" bending down, and whispering in her ear.

It was a caress, though he touched her not at all.

And her heart warmed to him, with a sympathy she had never felt before. Surely, he was handsome, with the handsomeness which a woman loved, a debonairness that was fascinating.

"You have done everything--you have saved me!" he exclaimed.

She plucked a rose; he took it, and drew it through his buttonhole.

"I have done what I can," she replied; "but I have not saved you."

"What? the letter!--the information----"

"Will not be used against you," she broke in; "but, I fear that the Governor has other evidence, quite as strong and much more convincing."

His thoughts turned, instantly, to Miss Marbury. She had told--and lost no time in the telling, either, it would seem. He smiled, derisively. Brandon was right. No woman could keep a secret, unless she were vitally concerned in it.

"Well," he said, "I shall stay and face it. At least, they shall not say I ran away. Moreover, they cannot do more than unmask me--and, when the mask is off, they show a De Lysle--and between a De Lysle and a Parkington, even if the former is somewhat scar-marked, there is vast difference. I may not accompany Brandon home; but, when I go, you go with me."

She put her hand on his arm.

"Prove it, and I will go," she said.

He took her hand, regardless of who saw, and kissed it with inimitable grace, bowing low over it, the while.

"It is a bargain, my lady!" he said. "I accept your own terms. Now, with your permission, I will to Sir Charles Brandon, and take counsel with him."

As they were returning, a man came rapidly up the esplanade, from the landing, and passed them, at some little distance.

"Is not that Mr. Marbury?" Miss Stirling asked.

Parkington nodded, but did not speak.--Marbury! The one man who could prove the theft! The man who could identify Long-Sword! Why should he have come to Whitehall--and at this particular time?

"Was he not expected?" he asked, with assumed carelessness.

"No," she replied. "He likely comes to see the Governor, on business which requires his personal approval."

"I think I will hasten to Sir Charles," he said, now thoroughly alarmed.

Meanwhile, Marbury had been met, as he neared the house, by Maynadier, who had noted his approach.

"What does his Excellency want with me?" he asked. "Has it to do with the theft?"

"It has--with the theft, and something more. We will go in--the Governor awaits you in the drawing-room; he will relate the exact facts."

"Mr. Marbury," said Colonel Sharpe, laying aside the Gazette he was reading, and offering his guest a chair, "I have sent for you because I want your aid."

"I appreciate the honor, sir," replied Marbury, "but, as I am the only person concerned, I request your Excellency to let the matter rest. Moreover, the money was returned; why should it not be let rest?"

"I think you do not quite understand the situation," returned the Governor. "Let me, briefly, outline the facts...."

Marbury listened, in impassive silence. The change of name did not affect him; he knew of another such, much closer home. But the stealing of another's identity, and the presentation of his letters, were serious matters to the Colonists, and, he admitted, any one who was guilty ought to be exposed.

"I was sure you would see it as we do, Mr. Marbury, when you knew everything!" said the Governor.

"Yes--the theft from me--if he _were_ the thief--was solely, my affair," was the reply; "this, however, concerns us all. If the one fit into the other, I shall bear my part."

The Governor struck a bell; the orderly, on duty, entered.

"My compliments to Captain Herford," said the Colonel, "and say, I wish to see him."

The man saluted and withdrew. In a moment, Captain Herford entered.

"Captain Herford, you will say, to Sir Edward Parkington and to Sir Charles Brandon, that the Governor desires their attendance in the drawing-room. Then, station the guard outside the windows, with two just without the doors. You understand?"

Herford's heels came together, and his hand rose to his forehead.

"Yes, your Excellency!" he replied, with a surprised lift of the eye-brows toward Maynadier.

He found Parkington and Brandon together, pacing back and forth on the esplanade. He delivered his message curtly, faced about, and tramped off. These men were not to his liking, and in his official capacity, as his Excellency's aide-de-camp, it did his small soul good to treat them with scant courtesy.

"Well, it has come!" said Parkington.

Brandon was looking after Herford, with a frown.

"That fellow," he observed, "needs to be taught some civility with a club--a walking stick is not stout enough to be effective."

"Never mind Herford," smiled Parkington. "Come and help his Excellency hold court, for my particular benefit."

Brandon was wearing his sword, and, now, he gave it a hitch forward, so that it lay close to his hand.

"You do not anticipate using it?" his friend asked.

"I do not know," said he, with an ominous shake of the head. "One can never tell how suddenly the occasion may arise. That is why I am never without it--it has saved my life, a score of times, in the last four years."

"We are not flying the Jolly Roger, now," Parkington commented.

The other shrugged his shoulders. "I am not so sure."

"You are not in danger."

"You forget that Marbury is with the Governor."

"He will not recognize you--you, yourself, said so."

"That was before you were suspected--I counted on your word to prove my name."

"Then do not come with me--do not run the risk!" urged Parkington.

"No, I must brave it out. To decamp, now, would be useless. I was summoned, I presume, because you vouched for me--but, if I do not respond, that instant they will understand I had good cause for going, and I should be caught ere I had gone a mile. Come on--it is a good game and we will play it out.... You see!" he said, as they entered the house, pointing to the opposite doorway, through which could be seen the guard parading. "It were folly to do otherwise."

Every one was down at the race track, looking at the horses, the house was deserted, save for the servants. Miss Stirling, even, was gone with the rest--Marbury's coming had delayed the matter, she supposed, and some regard must be paid to the duties of hostess.

The two men crossed the entrance and knocked at the drawing-room door, which, contrary to custom, was closed. Instantly, it was swung open--and the Governor bade them enter.

He was standing with his back to the fire-place, his hands behind him, his face grave and thoughtful. He returned, with studied courtesy, their bows of greeting, and motioned for them to be seated. Maynadier, placid and unmoved, was on one side, Marbury, grim-faced but plainly ill at ease, on the other.

"Gentlemen," said Colonel Sharpe, "I regret that it is as the Governor of Maryland, and not as Colonel Sharpe, that I have had to request your presence here, this morning."

"We took it, from the formal manner of our summons, that your Excellency wished to confer with us in your official capacity," said Parkington, easily.

The Governor bowed again.

"Which, being understood," said he, "we can proceed to business.... Sir Edward Parkington, I have received information of such a pertinent character, that I have no other course than to question your identity. I do it with the greatest reluctance--you have been a guest in my house, and in the houses of the prominent men of the Colony--you presented letters, from Lord Baltimore, which were regular, and which entitled you to be received. We are informed, now, that you are not their rightful owner--in other words, that you are an impostor. What, sir, have you to say in explanation?"

Parkington laughed a little, easy laugh, and brushed a speck of dust from his coat sleeve.

"I have nothing to say," he replied.--"Your Excellency's information is correct. I am _not_ Sir Edward Parkington."

The Governor's jaw closed tight, his face grew very stern, and, for a brief time, he did not answer.

"How did you come into possession of Lord Baltimore's letters?" he asked, at length. "Did you steal them?"

"No!" said Parkington, "unless taking them from a dead man is stealing." ... He shrugged his shoulders. "I will tell you the facts, since you wish to know them."

He drew out his snuff-box--offered it to the others, with a graceful gesture--took a pinch himself, and told his story.

* * * * * * * * *

"And you say that you did this thing in a fit of foolishness?" the Governor asked, when he had finished.

"Yes--I did not appreciate how difficult it would be to throw off the false identity. That is why I was going home: to regain myself."

"Who, in truth, are you?" asked the Governor. (He did not care to disclose that Miss Stirling had told him.)

"Roger de Lysle, second son of the Earl of Doncaster," was the answer.

Maynadier turned and looked at him, with sudden interest--Marbury's grim visage relaxed a trifle. There was virtue, in those days, in a name.

"Have you the means of proving it?" said his Excellency--"any papers--anything, indeed?"

"My papers were lost when _The Sally_ foundered. But Sir Charles Brandon can attest me."

The Governor turned, inquiringly, to Brandon, who was sitting somewhat back, and quite within the shadow.

"I can substantiate his statement that he is Doncaster's son," said Brandon. "I have known the family, intimately, for years."

As he spoke, Marbury suddenly threw up his head, much as a dog does to the scent, and his sharp eyes glistened. At the end, he arose, and, with never a glance at any one, went out.

"The difficulty is," said the Governor, "that this man (who admits he is an impostor) introduced you. Have you any means of identification?"

"It is a proper question," returned Brandon, promptly.

Arising, he took a bundle of papers from his pocket, and handed them to the Governor.

The latter examined them, one by one, carefully and slowly. When he had finished, he passed them on to Maynadier.

"They are regular," he said, "but rather old--the latest is dated more than four years back."

"I am Sir Charles Brandon, now, just as well as four years ago!" he laughed. Then, he explained: "It is four years since I left England."

"And you have not, in that time, had letters from home?"

"None."

The Governor nodded, then turned to Maynadier, and the two conversed in low tones.

Brandon stretched out his legs and frowned--the talk had stirred old ashes that still smouldered.

De Lysle, untroubled and unconcerned, picked up the Gazette, the Governor had been reading, and glanced over it.

The first three columns had to do with news, three months old, of the Court and Parliament. He passed them by. The column which did for Boston, and New York and Philadelphia, also, went unread. The stick of Annapolis doings, for the past week, was glanced at, curiously. Then, down at the bottom of the last column, something in larger type, caught his eye. He looked, casually, at it, then looked again--then read it, amazed, and a second time, read it, and the third time.

Just at that moment, Marbury re-entered. Brandon turned his head from him, but the former stopped, deliberately peered in his face, and wheeled on the Governor.

"Your Excellency," he said, "it would appear that you have seined for a small fish, and caught a shark. This man you know, I believe, as Sir Charles Brandon?"

"He was so introduced," returned the Governor, a little surprise showing in his voice; "and his papers bear him out--albeit, they are some four years old."

Marbury laughed, scornfully.

"The papers seem to bear out Parkington, too!" he said. "However, they may be right enough--he may be Sir Charles Brandon--but--he is, also, Long-Sword the Pirate."

XX

THE PENALTY OF A BIRTH-MARK

If Marbury had played for effect, he could not have done it better.

For an instant, no one spoke--no one even stirred. Then, the Governor recovered himself.

"My God! man! do you realize what you have said?" he exclaimed.

"I do," said Marbury; "and I am ready to prove it." He strode to the window. "Let Jamison and his mate come in!" he shouted.

At the same time, the Governor raised his voice.

"Herford!" he called, "the guard! the guard!--Your pardon, sir," addressing Brandon, "but the seriousness of the charge obligates it."

De Lysle had sprung up in indignation; Brandon stayed him with a gesture.

"I understand," he said, crossing his legs, with unconcern. "It is a proper precaution. If I were Long-Sword, there might be need for them. As I am not he, I must ask Mr. Marbury to produce his evidence at once. It is scarcely fitting, that Sir Charles Brandon rest under an imputation so serious, an instant longer than is required to disprove it."

"Let Jamison, and the mate, wait in the outer room until required," said Colonel Sharpe, to Herford who, at that moment, appeared at the head of the guard.--"Now, Mr. Marbury, we are ready to hear your proofs."

"Your Excellency knows of the attack on Hedgely Hall," Marbury said, "and the capture of their leader, who, by his own admission to me, was Long-Sword--also, of his escape, after killing his guard. I had every chance to observe him, during the long colloquy concerning ransom, and, afterward, on the ship. The voice, the face, the build, every action of the man is the same. I identify him, beyond question. And more, I have had no communication with Jamison and his mate, their ship brought me here, and I have sent for them--I have not seen them. They have never seen Sir Charles Brandon. I am willing to submit the case on their testimony. Let them confront him. If they do not sustain me, I will withdraw the charge, and apologize, most humbly."

The Governor turned to Herford, who, sword drawn, was standing by the closed door, and nodded for him to admit Jamison.

The skipper entered, hesitatingly, and halted just within the room. The soldiers, the Governor's mansion, the unfamiliar surroundings, the sudden summons, the mystery of it all had produced their natural result. He was frightened.

"Jamison," said Colonel Sharpe, "will you do us the favor to look at the gentleman, immediately on your left, and tell us whether you have ever seen him."

The skipper turned, slowly; at the same instant, Marbury threw back the hangings from the window, and the morning sun flooded the apartment.

"Good God!" he exclaimed, starting back. "It is Long-Sword! Long-Sword the Pirate!"

"That will do," said the Governor; "stand aside. Now, summon the mate."

He also entered, slowly, as though doubtful of his reception, his hat held nervously in his fingers, his eyes shifting rapidly from side to side, yet appreciating nothing. When the Governor spoke, he jumped as though he had been struck, instead, and the question had to be repeated before he understood its tenor. Then he wheeled, suddenly--and came face to face with Brandon.

Instantly, he let out a yell, and sprang clear to the other side of the room.

"Long-Sword! Long-Sword!" he cried.

Brandon laughed, lightly.

"Long-Sword must have been the very devil!" he said. Then, he became grave. "Surely, your Excellency will not view too seriously what must be a very striking resemblance between this pirate and myself. But, that you may be relieved of all embarrassment, I am willing to go to England under guard. There, that I am Sir Charles Brandon can be instantly attested by any one at Court, his Majesty, himself, included. If you do this, I will give you, in addition, my parole that I will not seek to escape."

"Why should you do it?" exclaimed De Lysle, seeing the play, and seeking to aid it.

"Because it is proper that I should aid his Excellency in his perplexity," Brandon said. "Three witnesses name me as Long-Sword; it is absurd, and the quickest way to prove the absurdity is to send me home for identification. It is the penalty I pay, for being a pirate's double."

"Will you be satisfied, if I send him to England under guard?" the Governor asked Marbury.

"No, I am not satisfied," was the answer. "He may, in truth, be Sir Charles Brandon, but that does not prevent him from being Long-Sword, too. By his own admission (I heard it, as I stood in the outer room), he has not been home for four years, and he has had no word from England in the interim. Why?--Why?--Where has he been these four years?--what doing? It is just about that period since Long-Sword the Pirate appeared. Strange coincidence, is it not, when you consider the resemblance?--and the further fact, that he is discreetly silent as to his whereabouts during these four years. I was willing to let him go, when he escaped. I wanted no further bother concerning him. But, when he actually has the effrontery to invade your Excellency's house, as a guest, and impose upon the good people of this Province, I say, let him be punished. No, sir, I am not satisfied to have him sent home, and then released, if he be identified as Brandon."

The Governor nodded, gravely.

"What have you to say, monsieur, to the proposition, that you could be both Sir Charles Brandon and Long-Sword?" he asked.

Brandon raised his hands, expressively.

"That may be true," said he. "But an English gentleman, of means, is not likely to become a pirate."

"Your Excellency," said Jamison, coming a step forward, "might I be permitted to say something?"

Colonel Sharpe turned to him, with a frown.

"Speak up!" he said, shortly. "What is it?"

"Long-Sword had a collar-bone broken in the fight, when he was captured--" began Jamison.

"And you mean, that there may be evidence of it?" the Governor interrupted. "Very good!--Brandon, will you submit to examination?"

"Certainly, sir! I shall be glad to let either you or Mr. Maynadier inspect my shoulders. Why did you not speak of this sooner, fellow?" he added.

It was the evidence he had been hoping for--had, indeed, depended on to establish his innocence. And they had been long in coming to it! The bones had knit as neatly as before the break.

"And when you are about it," added Jamison, "you might look for a star-shaped birth-mark, under the left arm. I noticed it, when I bound up his injury. If it is not there, then he is not Long-Sword."

"Very good! my man, they may look for the birth-mark, too," said Brandon.

He crossed to the window, where the sun would fall full upon him, divesting himself of his coat as he went; glanced out at the turf, below, tossed the coat, carelessly, on a chair, and, putting one hand on the ledge, suddenly vaulted through the opening.

It was so totally unexpected, that, for an instant, no one moved. Then Captain Herford, with a shout to his men to follow, bounded across the room, and leaped out in pursuit.

Brandon had slipped on the grass, when he landed, and Herford alighted almost in his arms, and a trifle beyond him. Both men recovered themselves at the same instant, but Herford was between Brandon and freedom. Like a flash, he drew his sword, and flung himself upon the aide.

Herford was not an expert, but he had agility, and, that first requisite of a fencer, a strong wrist, and he held his own, for the moment that was necessary to enable the guard to come up. Just as they appeared, he felt the other's sword pass through his shoulder, and he knew no more.

Brandon whipped out the blade, and sprang forward. Too late! A dozen soldiers were in the way. He put his back to the house, and waited.

He would die, here--die as Long-Sword--die with the music of the steel, perhaps the roll of musketry, in his ears. It was better--much better--than the rope.

A figure leaped down from the window. It was De Lysle.

"Brandon!" he exclaimed. "Let me aid you." The other waved him back.

"You cannot aid me. I am alone on the ship," he said. "Farewell, my friend.--Ah! place for his Excellency!"

The Governor came hurriedly out, followed by Maynadier and Marbury. Constable, and the rest of the men of the house party, attracted by the unusual commotion, were hastening over from the race track, though they could not yet see what was occurring on the opposite side of the house.

Colonel Sharpe took in the whole scene at a glance:--the solitary figure against the wall, the dozen soldiers that hemmed him in, the wounded Herford lying on the grass, the blood blotching breast and shoulder.

And he swore a great oath, and, kneeling, raised the Captain's head.

"He is not dead!" he said. "Here, Maynadier, look to him, will you?" Then he arose and faced Brandon.

The latter's sword went up in salute.

"Perhaps your Excellency will favor me with a pass or two?" he said.

The Governor's face was set and stern, for the time, all mercy had passed out of it.