The Runaways, Nat Gould [e reader comics .TXT] 📗

realising his loss, he went out of the room, closing the door after him, and stumbled downstairs.

Mrs. Marley, his housekeeper, heard him, and came into the room,

"Is Janet ill?" she asked, in a tone of concern.

"Yes," he replied, in a hollow voice. "I will take her breakfast upstairs."

"I can take it myself," she replied.

"No; please let me do it."

"Very well, but you spoil her, Mr. Todd; it is not good for her," said Mrs. Marley.

He laughed strangely, and she looked at him in surprise. He took the tray upstairs, placed it on the table at the bedside, and locked the door as he came out, putting the key in his pocket. Why he did this he failed to understand, except that he wanted time to think.

He was going over again everything that happened that terrible night. He had considered it many times, and he would not lay the guilt at Ulick's door; no, not even after two years of grave suspicion, which had not yet been removed. He once more saw the door open and Ulick Maynard come in out of the snowy night. He heard the startled cry Janet gave as she sprang from her chair, and her exclamation, "Mr. Ulick, what are you doing here?" rang in his ears.

"Eli, I want to sit down and think," Ulick had said, and, wonderingly, he bade him make the house his home, as he had always done.

Janet, pale and bewildered, left the room.

"Is anything the matter, Mr. Ulick?" asked Eli.

"You'll learn soon enough," was the vague reply; and then he saw Ulick take out his pocket-book and count some notes.

"Have some supper?" said Eli.

"No, I dined at home an hour ago." Then he looked hard at Eli. Surely he knew what people were saying, knew of the gossip about Janet. It amazed him when he had to acknowledge that Eli Todd was the only person in the village who was in ignorance of what concerned him most.

"Where's Janet? I must speak to her," said Ulick.

Eli called her, and she came slowly into the room, her face as pale as death.

"Mr. Ulick wishes to speak to you. I'll leave you together, I want to look at Blossom again."

What passed between them he never knew; what he did know was that next morning Janet was gone.

As he sat crushed and stunned under the blow, there came a furious knocking at the door, and Mrs. Marley called out in an agitated voice—

"It's the Squire, and isn't he in a rage!"

As Eli sat in his chair by the fire he again conjured up the picture of Redmond Maynard striding furiously into the room, knocking the snow from his boots with his hunting crop.

"Is my son here, or has he been here?" he asked, angrily.

"He was here last night," said Eli, in a hollow voice.

"And is he here still?"

"No."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know; he went away after—after——"

"After what?" thundered the Squire.

"After he had seen Janet about something he wished to say to her," said Eli, slowly.

"And where is the hussey; d——n it, man, where is she?"

Eli strode up to him, and looking him full in the face, said—

"Not that word from you, Squire, take it back, take it back; she is my child."

Redmond Maynard controlled his feelings.

"It is a hard word, Eli, I ought not to have used it. You have sufficient to bear without that," he said.

"He knows," thought Eli. "How does he know?" and he looked at the Squire, who could not fail to notice his surprise.

"May I speak with your daughter?" said the Squire; and from this Eli knew there was some mystery he did not yet grasp.

"She is gone," he replied, in a low voice, for the first time acknowledging the dreadful truth.

"Left your house!" exclaimed Redmond Maynard.

"Yes. I found her room empty this morning, but I have, so far, concealed her flight from my housekeeper."

Redmond Maynard strode up and down the room, muttering threats and imprecations.

"He has stolen her from you, Eli; but he shall pay for it dearly. He is even a greater scoundrel than I accused him of being," said the Squire.

"Do you know who has tempted my daughter to leave me?" asked Eli, placing his hand on the Squire's arm in his earnestness.

"Man, you must know," replied the Squire, amazed at his stupidity. "Have you noticed nothing wrong with her during the past few weeks?"

"No, my Janet has always been the same to me until last night."

The Squire's rage against Ulick passed all bounds. He had accused him of trifling with Janet's affections, and now, to crown his offence, the graceless fellow had induced her to run away with him.

"My son came here last night," he said. "You left him alone with your daughter, and it was no doubt during that time they planned to go away together. He has taken her from you, Eli, and I hope he will make her an honest woman. To think a son of mine should be such a scoundrel. Ulick, whom I have loved beyond all others, it is too terrible."

At last Eli Todd understood. His daughter, the pride of his life, the prettiest of all the village lasses, was a light o' love, and Ulick, his favourite, to whom he would have entrusted her life, was accused of betraying her. The shock of this discovery overwhelmed him, but he had more faith in Ulick than his father had.

"If a man has tempted my daughter to leave my home and follow him, it is not Mr. Ulick, Squire," said Eli, solemnly. "He'd never do it; he'd cut off his right hand first. You wrong him, and you'll regret the day you taxed him with such a charge."

Redmond Maynard wondered at the man's faith in his son. To his mind the proof was clear as day, especially now Janet Todd had disappeared at the same time as Ulick.

"Your feelings do you credit," he replied; "but the evidence is too clear. You know as well as I that when people hear Ulick and Janet have disappeared, they will say they went together. Can it be otherwise? They have been great friends, constantly meeting, and have often been seen alone together. My son has done you a great and grievous wrong, and I must do all in my power to lessen the blow."

"I'll hear no words against Mr. Ulick, Squire. True, he came here last night, but he left long before Janet could have gone. I will never believe it of him. It was not his nature to do evil. He'll prove it some day. As for my poor lass, God help her. She'll come back to me some day, when her heart is sore and aching for her father's love. Whatever she is, whatever she may have done, I will never refuse her the shelter of my home and name. We don't know all, Squire; there may be something we cannot understand, but which will be explained in the future. But Mr. Ulick! Why, Squire, I'd as soon accuse myself of crime as him."

Two years ago this scene took place between master and man, and Eli still held firm in his belief in the stainless honour of Ulick Maynard. No word had come from Janet during all that time. Where she was he knew not, but he thought of her day and night, and as he went about his work he offered up many a plea for her return.

"The Squire 'll be thinking of Ulick to-night," he muttered, as he rose from his chair, went to the door, and looked out into the night.

Snow was still falling softly, and the moon bathed the landscape in silvery splendour. As he looked, he heard the faint, dull sound of a horse's hoofs on the snow, and the rumble of clogged wheels.

"Where can they be going from the house to-night?" he thought, and then recognised Bob Heather, seated in "the tub," and almost smothered in wraps.

"Hallo, Eli, that you? A nice job I've got, fetching Mrs. Courtly's maid, and a heap of luggage, from Anselm a night like this."

"Going to Anselm!" exclaimed Eli. "What's up there?"

"Seems to me everything's up. Mr. Courtly's gone up to London on most important business, and left Mrs. Courtly alone. He's always got business in London. I'd know what it was if I was her. She came over to see the Squire, and he's made her stop with him. I say, Eli, don't you think she'd have been a lot better off if she'd married Mr. Ulick?"

"Mind your own business," growled Eli. "It don't concern you; and as to what I think, I'll keep it to myself."

"It's two years since he left us, and the Squire's been thinking about it all night. He's got a notion Mr. Ulick will come back at this time of year."

"So he will, and I hope my lass will come too," said Eli.

"You still think they did not go away together?" asked Bob.

"I don't say that, but I'll swear Mr. Ulick never harmed a hair of her head," said Eli.

"He's a rum 'un," thought Bob. "Why, everybody knows they ran off together; that's what made the Squire so bitter."

"Have a glass of ale?" said Eli.

"Thanks, you keep a better tap than they have at Hazelwell."

"I drink it myself," said Eli, smiling, "and order it myself. I expect it's not the Squire's fault if you don't get the best."

"No, it's not. Old Josh knows how many beans make five, and I'll bet he charges top price for the stuff he gets in for us," said Bob.

Eli went indoors and came out with a foaming tankard of ale, which Bob Heather made short work of.

"That will keep me warm," he said, with a sigh of satisfaction.

"You have plenty of rugs, are you afraid the luggage will catch cold?" said Eli, slyly.

"Luggage be blowed," said Bob. "These things are for Mary; she'd never forgive me if she caught a cold," and he shook the reins and proceeded on his journey.

CHAPTER III. RANDOM.

Squire Maynard remained in the dining-room throughout the night. Towards morning he fell asleep in his arm-chair, Bersak watching on the rug at his feet. It would have gone ill with the man who attempted to touch the Squire with Bersak on guard. More than one poacher had felt the hound's teeth in his calf, and howled for mercy, and been forgiven on account of the punishment received.

Bersak once saved Ulick's life, or if not his life, at any rate rescued him from being maimed.

A three-year-old bull attacked him, and there was no chance of escape. The furious beast had Ulick at his feet, and was bellowing over him, as a preliminary to goring him, when Bersak came to the rescue. The wolf-hound tore across the field in a direct line for the bull, who, seeing him, raised his head and bellowed forth defiance. On came Bersak, and flew straight at the bull's throat. He tore him terribly, but the animal could not rid himself of his fierce enemy. Never had bull such a mauling, and when Ulick came to himself he saw the dog still dragging his enemy down. It was a long struggle, but Bersak won, and the bull was shot to end his misery.

Bersak's fame spread far and wide, and he had