The Laughing Cavalier Baroness Orczy (bill gates books recommendations txt) 📖

order to tell you that you must leave this house instantly.”

“I will go, Gilda,” he said quietly, making no attempt to move or to relax his hold on her, “for this brief interval of sleep, your kind ministrations and the food you gave me have already put new strength into me. And the sight of you kneeling and praying near me has put life into me again.”

“Then, since you are better,” she rejoined coldly, “I pray you rise, my lord, and make ready to go. The garden is quite lonely, the Oude Gracht at its furthest boundary is more lonely still. The hour is late and the city is asleep⁠ ⁠… you would be quite safe now.”

“Do not send me away yet, Gilda, just when a breath of happiness⁠—the first I have tasted for four years⁠—has been wafted from heaven upon me. May I not stay here awhile and live for a brief moment in a dream which is born of unforgettable memories?”

“It is not safe for you to stay here, my lord,” she said coldly.

“My lord? You used to call me Willem once.”

“That was long ago, my lord, ere you gave Walburg de Marnix the sole right to call you by tender names.”

“She has deserted me, Gilda. Fled from me like a coward, leaving me to bear my misery alone.”

“She shared your misery for four years, my lord; it was your disgrace that she could not endure.”

“You knew then that she had left me?”

“My father had heard of it.”

“Then you know that I am a free man again?”

“The law no doubt will soon make you so.”

“The law has already freed me through Walburg’s own act of desertion. You know our laws as well as I do, Gilda. If you have any doubt ask your own father whose business it is to administer them. Walburg de Marnix has set me free, free to begin a new life, free to follow at last the dictates of my heart.”

“For the moment, my lord,” she retorted coldly, “you are not free even to live your old life.”

“I would not live it again, Gilda, now that I have seen you again. The past seems even now to be falling away from me. Dreams and memories are stronger than reality. And you, Gilda⁠ ⁠… have you forgotten?”

“I have forgotten nothing, my lord.”

“Our love⁠—your vows⁠—that day in June when you yielded your lips to my kiss?”

“Nor that dull autumnal day, my lord, when I heard from the lips of strangers that in order to further your own ambitious schemes you had cast me aside like a useless shoe, and had married another woman who was richer and of nobler birth than I.”

She had at last succeeded in freeing herself from his grasp, and had risen to her feet, and retreated further and further away from him until she stood up now against the opposite wall, her slender, white form lost in the darkness, her whispered words only striking clearly on his ear.

He too rose from the bed and drew up his tall lean figure with a gesture still expressive of that ruthless ambition with which Gilda had taunted him.

“My marriage then was pure expediency, Gilda,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders. “My father, whose differences with the Stadtholder were reaching their acutest stage, had need of the influence of Marnix de St. Aldegonde; my marriage with Walburg de Marnix was done in my father’s interests and went sorely against my heart⁠ ⁠… it is meet and natural that she herself should have severed a tie which was one only in name. A year hence from now, the law grants me freedom to contract a new marriage tie; my love for you, Gilda, is unchanged.”

“And mine for you, my lord, is dead.”

He gave a short, low laugh in which there rang a strange note of triumph.

“Dormant mayhap, Gilda,” he said as he groped his way across the darkened room and tried to approach her. “Your ears have been poisoned by your father’s hatred of me. Let me but hold you once more in my arms, let me but speak to you once again of the past, and you will forget all save your real love for me.”

“All this is senseless talk, my lord,” she said coldly, “your life at this moment hangs upon the finest thread that destiny can weave. Human bloodhounds you said were upon your track; they have not wholly lost the scent, remember.”

Her self-possession acted like a fall of icy-cold water upon the ardour of his temper. Once more that hunted look came into his face; he cast furtive, frightened glances around him, peering into the gloom, as if enemies might be lurking in every dark recess.

“They shall not have me,” he muttered through set teeth, “not tonight⁠ ⁠… not now that life again holds out to me a cup brimful of happiness. I will go, Gilda, just as you command⁠ ⁠… they shall not find me⁠ ⁠… I have something to live for now⁠ ⁠… you and revenge⁠ ⁠… My father, my brother, my friends, I shall avenge them all⁠—that treacherous Stadtholder shall not escape from my hatred the second time. Then will I have power, wealth, a great name to offer you. Gilda, you will remember me?”

“I will remember you, my lord, as one who has passed out of my life. My playmate of long ago, the man whom I once loved is dead to me. He who would stain his hands with blood is hateful in my sight. Go, go, my lord, I entreat you, ere you make my task of helping you to life and safety harder than I can bear.”

She ran to the window and threw it open, then pointed out into the night.

“There lies your way, my lord. God only knows if I do right in not denouncing you even now to my father.”

“You will not denounce me, Gilda,” he said, drawing quite near to her, now that he could see her graceful figure silhouetted against the starlit sky, “you will not denounce me for