CHAPTER XX.

"Away, and mark the time with fairest show; False face must hide what the false heart doth know." _Macbeth._

"And with coming day Came fast inquiry, which unfolded nought, Except the absence of the chief it sought.

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But none are there, and not a brake hath borne Nor gout of blood, nor shred of mantle torn; Nor fall nor struggle hath defaced the grass, Which still retains a mark where murder was." _Lara._

When L'Estrange opened his eyes it was with that delightful oblivion of all past events with which the slumberer first awakens. For a moment everything was forgotten; but then came the crushing remembrance of his guilt, and all that had passed a few hours ago. At first he felt inclined to doubt its reality; it was surely a wild dream--some terrible vision that had scared his sleep. He rubbed his eyes to see if he was awake. Alas! it was too true; there was the table, with the emptied decanters and wine-glasses still on it; the chairs on which they had sat; all damning proofs of the dread reality. The sun was shining brightly; the birds singing among the bushes; all was sunshine and happiness without; but within his sun had set; his joy was vanished; and he only rose to enact villainy. He started from his couch--his head still ached, and he felt sick in his heart as he walked across the chamber; and when he looked in the glass he started back with horror from his reflection; how haggard, pale, and wild were his looks; he scarce knew himself again! He bathed his face in cold water; it refreshed, without invigorating him. However, he felt better, and tried to steel himself up for the deed. He tried to laugh away his weakness and fears, as he hastily dressed. At last he was ready to go down stairs; but how should he face Ellen Ravensworth, if she should be alone, as he had sometimes found her? He stood irresolute for nearly five minutes, and then, suddenly nerving himself up for the worst, threw open his door--walked quickly along the passage--ran down the broad flight of stairs, and opened the parlour door. Two ladies stood near the window; one was Ellen, but, thank God! she was not alone. Lady Florence stood, all smiles, beside her. Trying to assume a careless tone of voice, he bade them good morning. His voice sounded strange to his ears! Had he come five minutes earlier he would have met Ellen alone--perhaps if he had, he might have confessed all to her--such had been a passing thought; but as it was it only sealed his purpose. The ladies returned his salute, and made some casual remark on the fine morning. L'Estrange sat down near the open window; the cool morning air was delicious as it fanned his burning face; he put his hand to his brow, and sat speechless.

"Are you unwell, Captain L'Estrange?" asked Ellen, in a sweet voice; "you look so pale."

"It is nothing; a mere passing headache. I am somewhat subject to them since I caught a fever in India," answered L'Estrange, in a choking voice; and walking to the sideboard he poured out a glass of cold water and drank it, remarking, "I shall be better by-and-by. I hope you are well, Miss Ravensworth, after your fatigues yesterday."

"I am very well, thank you; though I had not the best of nights. I do not know what kept me awake."

"Nor I, either, Ellen," said Lady Florence. "What a noise there was! I am sure I heard some one up very late; it was like John's step."

L'Estrange shuddered again, as he saw Ellen's smiling brow, and then thought how he, like a fiend, was to change her joy to wretchedness!

It was not long before the whole party assembled round the breakfast-table, on which was spread a regular Scotch breakfast, with strawberries and other summer fruits, besides the usual dainties.

"What is the order of the day?" asked the Captain.

"Everyone to his own taste, I believe," answered the Earl. "For myself, business takes me to Edinburgh."

"Whither I will accompany you," said the Marquis.

"Most of us ladies are going out riding; who will gallant us?"

"I shall have much pleasure," said Sir Richard; "especially if you grace the party with your fair presence, Lady Florence."

"And I." "And I," said Scroop and another young officer.

"I shall ride, too, then," said Johnny.

"That is as we please, Master Johnny," answered Lady Florence.

"I," said the Duke, "shall amuse myself in a quieter manner by seeing the gardens and hot-houses. Will you come, Mr. Lennox? and you, Mr. Ravensworth? We are the three steady ones."

"I never knew your Grace was steady," said the Earl.

"I shall have the utmost satisfaction," said Mr. Lennox, "being myself a great connoisseur in horticulture."

"I too shall consider myself at your Grace's service."

"Just as you please, Mr. Ravensworth."

"I am going a-fishing. Who comes with me?" asked Captain Wilson. "Though I can stick on a horse, I do not like the thoroughbreds here very much, and prefer angling. Will you come, Captain?"

The Captain stared, without replying; and Lady Edith answered for her brother.

"John never goes fishing, Captain Wilson; he thinks it far too slow. If Frank was here, he is a zealous disciple of old Walton's gentle art. I fear you will have to angle alone."

"No matter, Lady Arranmore, I am well accustomed to my own company."

Breakfast over, the various followers of various amusements departed. The Earl and Marquis rode off to town; the Duke and his two friends walked to find the head gardener; Captain Wilson set off with an under-keeper for the burn, rod in hand; and the young ladies, including the Marchioness and her sister, as well as Ellen Ravensworth, retired to accoutre themselves for their ride, whilst their beaux strolled to the stables to select their horses, with Wilton's aid.

Captain L'Estrange, as soon as breakfast was over, took his hat and riding-whip and left the Castle. First he sauntered through the extensive gardens--narrowly escaping the Duke, Mr. Lennox, and Ravensworth. The gardens lay on the side of the hills, having a southern aspect, and rose tier on tier. Up this moderately steep ascent our hero climbed, knocking off the heads of the flowers with his whip, to the great annoyance of several gardeners, who, however, did not make any remark. At the top of the uppermost garden was a high wall, covered with fruit-trees, dividing the gardens from the woods and mountains immediately outside; opening the door that led out, L'Estrange commenced climbing a steep path that traversed the woods, and finally led him to the open hills. On his left gushed the burn, and between it and the outside walls of the gardens the same path led to the back of the stables, and the holly walk, a green road between two walls of holly-hedge, running at right angles to the stables. When he had reached the summit of the woods, L'Estrange sat down on a fallen tree, and looked at the landscape: at his feet lay the castle, apparently so near he could have tossed a stone on it; behind were the mountains; and on either side dense woods; before the castle stretched the park for many a rood. He sat on the log for more than half an hour in a contemplative mood; then, looking at his watch, he suddenly sprung up, and bounded down the woods like a roebuck; he passed the garden, continuing down the rough pathway, reached the stable, and ran along the smooth holly-walk. At the end stood Archy Forbes, holding a horse ready saddled.

"Have you been long waiting?"

"Ay, sir, half an hour, may be, and may be mair."

"Good God!" said L'Estrange, as he threw himself across the horse, "what made me delay?"

Just as he was about to gallop off a horse and horseman broke from behind the hedge, at the near end of the walk.

"Not off yet?" said the Captain.

"I am just going to start," said L'Estrange, in a husky voice.

"What the deuce frightens you? There is nothing to be afraid of. Only take the back way, and see you don't fall in with Lennox, that meddling old coxcomb. _Adieu!_ Off you go!"

"_Au diable!_" thought the other, as he galloped away.

The Captain spoke a few words to Archy, and then trotted to the Towers, where he found the riding party assembled, and Johnny showing off on a spirited little pony, which he had learned to manage with some address.

"Capital, young 'un!" shouted the Captain, as he cleared the park fence. "There is the making of a good horseman in you--plenty of pluck. We must get you into the 7th."

"Are you coming with us, Cap?" said Johnny, elated at the compliment.

Vouchsafing no reply, the Captain rode on with the party till he reached the Edinburgh road, where, taking off his hat to the ladies, he put spurs to his horse and rode to Edinburgh, where he probably met the Marquis and his brother at the favourite pump of the Irish lord, as the three rode back together.

When the whole party reassembled at dinner, L'Estrange's chair was again vacant. No notice was taken of this till the meal was more than half finished, and still the chair remained unoccupied, when the Earl remarked, "Captain L'Estrange is very unpunctual at his meals; in England we consider it a breach of the eleventh commandment."

"He wants Sir Henry Maynard to discipline him again, by Jove!"

"You need not speak, John," said Lady Florence. "Do you remember our joke at your always coming in late to dinner, and always stumbling into the room, with an oath, over the wolf-skin at the door."

"Enough to make most fellows swear, catching one's spurs in the d--d fur. I am glad it is gone now."

"Andrew," said the Earl, "send a footman to Captain L'Estrange's room; and tell him dinner is almost done."

The servant returned shortly with the reply, that the Captain was not in his room; nor had he been in the castle since morning.

"Then I'll be bound he has ridden off to Dalkeith, or Newbattle, and been asked to dinner," said Sir Richard. "He might have let me know, or sent a man to say so, at least."

The evening passed away as usual, and it was not till the Earl rose from the table in the smoking-room shortly before midnight that the Captain's absence was again alluded to.

"This passes forbearance," said the Earl, rising; "twelve o'clock, and my guest unaccounted for: this is either a strange breach of manners, or there is more in it than I imagine. Do none of you gentlemen know where he went to; has no one seen him?"

"I saw him, my Lord, in the garden about half an hour after breakfast," said Mr. Ravensworth.

"I also," said Mr. Lennox. "I pointed him out to your Grace," addressing the Duke.

"And did no one else see him since?"

"Not I," said the Captain.

"Nor I, nor I," answered several others.

"This grows serious. Ring the bell. Andrew, tell Wilton to come here at once."

When the hale old master of the horse appeared, the Earl said, "Wilton, I am much distressed at Captain L'Estrange's continued absence. Do none of you know anything about him?"

"No, my Lord, there is no horse, riding or driving, out from the stables. Jim Steadman, one of your lordship's foresters, saw the Captain running down the wood ayont the garden walls. I have made every inquiry, but no one else has seen him, except one or two of the under gardeners, and they seed him chopping the heeds off the flowers with his whip."

"This is more and more extraordinary; if he had no horse he cannot be far. I would he knew what anxiety he is causing."

"It certainly passes a joke," said Sir Richard. "However, he will turn up like a bad penny; you know, my Lord, since your proposal to Miss Ravensworth, L'Estrange, who it seems had some old attachment to the young lady, has not been like himself; last night he openly insulted the Marquis, and quarrelled with us all, because we bantered him a bit, not knowing how deeply he was bitten."

"I would I had known this before. I am extremely anxious about him; if, indeed, he was in this state of mind he might have done himself some harm, though God forbid it be so."

"Take my advice and leave him to find his way home. I warrant the night air will cool his head," said the Captain.

"Never," replied the Earl; "he was my guest, my friend; I am responsible for his safety, and not a soul shall retire to rest this night till Captain L'Estrange is found, or at least till we have done our best to find him. Wilton, order a dozen men to get torches and lanterns ready. Andrew, bring me my cloak and hat; come, gentlemen, I know none of you will refuse to search for this unhappy young man."

"I for one," said the Duke, "will go, and shame on him who stays at home."

"Spoken like a man," replied the Earl.

Everything was bustle; the whole party, wrapping themselves in cloaks and plaids, sallied forth, some with sticks, and some with staves; lanterns and torches were borne by not twelve, but nearly thirty stout retainers of the Earl, who volunteered right gladly; there was a sort of excitement mingled with it, and a fear, and let it not be denied, a _hope_, in some, that a dreadful catastrophe had occurred.

"I had rather seen L'Estrange at the devil, than hauling us out of doors at this hour," said the Captain, buttoning his military coat; "by Jove, this does pass a jest, Musgrave. I wonder if he has drowned himself?"

"I fear the worst," replied Scroop. "I never saw a man look so altered as he did at breakfast; if ever evil designs scarred a man's face they did his."

The party proceeded first through the gardens, then up the wood to the spot where Steadman saw him. The night was black as pitch; not a star broke through the heavy clouds; the sough of the south-west wind sighed through the woods, and ere they had proceeded far the rain commenced pattering fast. The thick trees at first kept it out, but by-and-by torch after torch was extinguished, and they kept up the search by means of lanterns only. Many of the men, and loudest of all the Captain, swore at this unlucky chance, and several of the seekers fell off, and stole away to the Towers. Amongst the first deserters were Lord Arranmore, Mr. Lennox, Mr. Ravensworth; Scroop and Musgrave followed, and the party was curtailed by several of the men, who also slipped away, preferring their homestead and beds to the dripping woods. The Earl, the Duke, Captain de Vere, Johnny, and the naval commander Wilson, resolutely defied the elements; with Wilton, Jim Steadman, and a score of hardier foresters, they searched every nook, explored every hollow, hallooed the lost man's name, and dragged every lynn of the burn.

"I mind me of a search adoun this vera burn," said Wilton, "it was five-and-twenty years gone by or mayhap more, when on a night like this I searched this identical brae. I mind your lordship's father, how he searched, how he shouted your brother's name. The bairn was never found though, but it seems like yestreen. I was a younger man then."

Little heeding Wilton's story the Earl went on searching as though he too sought for his son. After a fruitless exploration of the ravine they came to the Holly Walk, and there the sharp eye of Wilton discovered a horse-hoof, which he pointed out to the Earl; it was almost effaced by the rain which now fell in torrents.

"That is easily explained," said the Captain; "I myself rode down this walk this very morning."

"Ay sir, in vera deed you did," said Archy Forbes.

When they had searched the whole dell with no better fortune, it was proposed by the Duke to give it up.

"Your Grace may, I shall hunt on," said the Earl. "Those however who desire may return."

The Captain, and most of the others readily availed themselves of this leave, and only the Earl, Wilton, Captain Wilson, and two foresters kept up the search; they too, after spending nearly all the night in rain, gave it up as a bad matter, and weary, wet, and disheartened, entered the Towers in the gray dawning, and, changing their drenched garments, sought a few hours' repose. Early next morning the search was recommenced by the woodmen and other servants. A sorrowful party sat down to breakfast, and every one looked at his neighbour in dismay. Ellen seemed most affected of all. In silence the meal passed away, or if anything was spoken it was some vague conjecture, or hope expressed all would yet turn out well. The Earl was absent as well as his brother; they had ridden off to Edinburgh for detectives, and also to make inquiries and give it publicity in the papers. They did not return till late at night, to find, of course, no news had been gained, nor was any trace to be found of the unhappy young man, living nor dead. Not to weary our readers more, we need only say a week's search, even with the best detectives, proved utterly useless; and though all who had seen the missing man were examined by oath, nothing transpired beyond the fact that he was missing, and no trace could be gained, nor clue found to his fate. It was a wonder and topic of the papers for a week, and immense rewards were offered for his body, alive or dead, for it soon began to gain a wide circulation that he must have met with foul play. At last, like everything else, time proved a grand cooler of excitement, and the remarkable disappearance of the young Captain was talked of less and less, till, after a fortnight had passed away, it ceased to excite any more interest in the public mind, and was added to the list of unrevealed secrets of crime. As a matter of course this untoward event broke up the party that met for pleasure at the Towers. Mr. Ravensworth and his son and daughters were the first to leave, then followed Mr. Lennox, who waited till the Duke took his departure also, and accompanied him so far as his home on his way to Edinburgh. In a week only the Marquis and Marchioness, the Captain and his friend Sir Richard, and another guest, the naval commander, remained. Ellen, we have said, was much affected by this sudden and unaccountable disappearance of her old admirer; she feared there was guilt in it, and dreaded to hear the _dénouement_; it was a subject she often talked of, and she perhaps more than any one else, feared there was something terrible connected with it; this fear she told Lord Wentworth, who however disregarded it and tried to cheer her up, for it had taken a great hold on her mind, more especially as she seemed to have been the prime cause of the catastrophe. Lord Wentworth almost daily rode to see his intended, and in this way two weeks passed away since the fatal night, still there was no clue to the mystery.