The Lady of the Mount

  Produced by Al Haines

  Cover art]

  [Frontispiece: My Lady]

  THE LADY OF THE MOUNT

  _By_

  FREDERIC S. ISHAM

  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

  LESTER RALPH

  INDIANAPOLIS

  THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY

  PUBLISHERS

  COPYRIGHT 1908

  THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY

  FEBRUARY

  BY FREDERIC S. ISHAM

  BLACK FRIDAY Illustrated by Harrison Fisher 12mo, Cloth $1.50

  UNDER THE ROSE Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy 12mo, Cloth $1.50

  THE STROLLERS Illustrated by Harrison Fisher 12mo, Cloth $1.50

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I A CHANCE ENCOUNTER II AN ECHO OF THE PAST III A SUDDEN RESOLUTION IV A DANCE ON THE BEACH V AN INTERRUPTION VI A MESSAGE FOR MY LADY VII A DISTANT MENACE VIII THE OLD WATCH-TOWER IX A DISCOVERY X THE CLOISTER IN THE AIR XI THE GOVERNOR IS SURPRISED XII AT THE COCKLES XIII THE SEETHING OF THE SEA XIV THE PILGRIMAGE XV THE VOICE FROM THE GROUP XVI THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE PEOPLE XVII THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE HUNCHBACK XVIII THE MOUNTEBANK AND MY LADY XIX THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE GOVERNOR XX THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE SOLDIER XXI THE STAIRWAY OF SILVER XXII THE WHIRLING OF THE WHEEL XXIII AT THE VERGE OF THE APERTURE XXIV THE HALL OF THE CHEVALIERS XXV THE UNDER WORLD XXVI A NEW ARRIVAL XXVII A STROLL ON THE STRAND XXVIII THE HESITATION OF THE MARQUIS XXIX THE MARQUIS INTERVENES XXX A SOUND AFAR XXXI THE ATTACK ON THE MOUNT XXXII NEAR THE ALTAR XXXIII ON THE SANDS XXXIV SOME TIME LATER

  THE LADY OF THE MOUNT

  CHAPTER I

  A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

  "Don't you know, boy, you ought not to get in my way?"

  The tide was at its ebb; the boats stranded afar, and the lad addressedhad started, with a fish--his wage--in one hand, to walk to shore,when, passing into the shadow of the rampart of the Governor's Mount,from the opposite direction a white horse swung suddenly around acorner of the stone masonry and bore directly upon him. He had buttime to step aside; as it was, the animal grazed his shoulder, and theboy, about to give utterance to a natural remonstrance, lifted his eyesto the offender. The words were not forthcoming; surprised, he gazedat a tiny girl, of about eleven, perched fairy-like on the broad backof the heavy steed.

  "Don't you know you ought not to get in my way?" she repeatedimperiously.

  The boy, tall, dark, unkempt as a young savage, shifted awkwardly; hisblack eyes, restless enough ordinarily, expressed a sudden shyness inthe presence of this unexpected and dainty creature.

  "I--didn't see you," he half stammered.

  "Well, you should have!" And again the little lady frowned, shook herdisordered golden curls disapprovingly and gazed at him, a look ofcensure in her brown eyes. "But perhaps you don't know who I am," shewent on with a lift of the patrician doll-like features. "I don'tthink you do, or you wouldn't stand there like a booby, without takingoff your hat." More embarrassed, he removed a worn cap while shecontinued to regard him with the reverse of approval. "I am theComtesse Elise," she observed; "the daughter of the Governor of theMount."

  "Oh!" said the boy, and his glance shifted to the most important andinsistent feature of the landscape.

  Carrying its clustered burden of houses and palaces, a great rockreared itself from the monotony of the bare and blinding sands. Now anoasis in the desert, ere night was over he knew the in-rushing waterswould convert it into an island; claim it for the sea! A strangekingdom, yet a mighty one, it belonged alternately to the land and tothe ocean. With the sky, however, it enjoyed perpetual affiliation,for the heavens were ever wooing it; now winding pretty ribbons oflight about its air-drawn castles; then kissing it with the tender,soft red glow of celestial fervor.

  "Yes; I live right on top among the clouds, in a castle, with dungeonsunderneath, where my father puts the bad people who don't like thenobles and King Louis XVI. But where," categorically, "do you live?"

  His gaze turned from the points and turrets and the clouds she spokeof--that seemed to linger about the lofty summit--to the mainland,perhaps a mile distant.

  "There!" he said, and specifically indicated a dark fringe, like acloud on the lowlands.

  "In the woods! How odd!" She looked at him with faint interest. "Anddon't the bears bother you? Once when I wanted to see what the woodswere like, my nurse told me they were filled with terrible bears whowould eat up little girls. I don't have a nurse any more,"irrelevantly, "only a governess who came from the court of Versailles,and Beppo. Do you know Beppo?"

  "No."

  "I don't like him," she confided. "He is always listening. But why doyou live in the woods?"

  "Because!" The reason failed him.

  "And didn't you ever live anywhere else?"

  A shadow crossed the dark young face. "Once," he said.

  "I suppose the bears know you," she speculated, "and that is the reasonthey let you alone. Or, perhaps, they are like the wolf in thefairy-tale. Did you ever hear of the kind-hearted wolf?"

  He shook his head.

  "My nurse used to tell it to me. Well, once there was a boy who was anorphan and everybody hated him. So he went to live in the forest andthere he met a wolf. 'Where are you going, little boy?' said the wolf.'Nowhere,' said the boy; 'I have no home.' 'No home!' said thekind-hearted wolf; 'then come with me, and you shall share my cave.'Isn't that a nice story?"

  He looked at her in a puzzled manner. "I don't know," he began, whenshe tossed her head.

  "What a stupid boy!" she exclaimed severely. A moment she studied himtentatively through her curls, from the vantage point of her elevatedseat. "That's a big fish," she remarked, after the pause.

  "Do you want it?" he asked quickly, his face brightening.

  "You can give it to Beppo when he comes," she said, drawing herself uploftily. "He'll be here soon. I've run away from him!" A suddensmile replaced her brief assumption of dignity. "He'll be so angry!He's fat and ugly," more confidentially. "And he's so amusing whenhe's vexed! But how much do you ask for the fish?"

  "I didn't mean--to sell it!"

  "Why not?"

  "I--don't sell fish."

  "Don't sell fish!" She looked at the clothes, frayed and worn, thebare muscular throat, the sunburned legs. "You meant to give it to me?"

  "Yes."

  The girl laughed. "What a funny boy!"

  His cheek flushed; from beneath the matted hair, the disconcerted blackeyes met the mocking brown ones.

  "Of course I can't take it for nothing," she explained, "and it is veryabsurd of you to expect it."

  "Then," with sudden stubbornness, "I will keep it!"

  Her glance grew more severe. "Most people speak to me as 'my Lady.'You seem to have forgotten. Or perhaps you have been listening to someof those silly persons who talk about everybody being born equal. I'veheard my father, the Governor, speak of them and how he has put some ofthem in his dungeons. You'd better not talk that way, or he may shutyou up in some terrible dark hole beneath the castle."

  "I'm not afraid!" The black eyes shone.

  "Then you must be a very wicked boy. It would serve you right if I wasto tell."

  "You can!"

  "Then I won't! Besides, I'm not a telltale!" She tossed her curls andwent on. "I've heard my father say these people who want to be called'_gentilhomme_' and 'monsieur' are low and ignorant; they can't evenread and write."

  Again the red hue mantled the boy's cheek. "I don't believe you can!"she exclaimed shrewdly and clapped her hands. "Can you now?" He didnot answer. "'Monsieur'! '_Gentilhomme_
'!" she repeated.

  He stepped closer, his face dark; but whatever reply he might have madewas interrupted by the sound of a horse's hoofs and the abruptappearance, from the direction the child had come, of a fat,irascible-looking man of middle age, dressed in livery.

  "Oh, here you are, my Lady!" His tone was far from amiable; as hespoke he pulled up his horse with a vicious jerk. "A pretty chaseyou've led me!"

  She regarded him indifferently. "If you _will_ stop at the inn,Beppo--"

  The man's irate glance fell. "Who is this?"

  "A boy who doesn't want to sell his fish," said the girl merrily.

  "Oh!" The man's look expressed a quick recognition. "A fine day'swork is this--to bandy words with--" Abruptly he raised his whip."What do you mean, sirrah, by stopping my Lady?"

  A fierce gleam in the lad's eyes belied the smile on his lips. "Don'tbeat me, good Beppo!" he said in a mocking voice, and stood, alert,lithe, like a tiger ready to spring. The man hesitated; his armdropped to his side. "The very spot!" he said, looking around him.

  A moment the boy waited, then turned on his heel and, without a word,walked away. Soon an angle in the sea-wall, girdling the Mount, hidhim from view.

  "Why didn't you strike him?" Quietly the child regarded the man."Were you afraid?" Beppo's answering look was not one of affection forhis charge. "Who is he?"

  "An idle vagabond."

  "What is his name?"

  "I don't know."

  "Don't you?"

  A queer expression sprang into his eyes. "One can't remember everypeasant brat," he returned evasively.

  She considered him silently; then: "Why did you say: 'The very spot'?"she asked.

  "Did I? I don't remember. But it's time we were getting back. Come,my Lady!" And Beppo struck his horse smartly.