Chapter 97 - Behind a Mask, or a Woman's Power

"'Is Sir John coming at noon?' asked Jean, as the three sat together in the rosy hush of dawn, trying to hope against hope. "'No. He had been ill, I learned from young Gower, who is just from town, and so had not completed his business. I sent him word to wait till night, for the bridge won't be passable till then. Now I must try and rest an hour. I have worked all night, and have no strength left. Call me the instant any messenger arrives." With that, Coventry went to his room, Bella followed to wait on him, and Jean roamed through house and grounds, unable to rest. The morning was far spent when the messenger arrived. Jean went to receive his tidings, with the wicked hope still lurking at her heart. "'Is he found?' she asked calmly, as the man hesitated to speak. "'Yes, ma'am.' "'You are sure?' "'I am certain, ma'am, though some won't say till Mr. Coventry comes to look.' "'Is he alive?' And Jean's white lips trembled as she put the question. "'Oh, no, ma'am, thou'rt not possible under all them stones and water. Poor young gentleman is so wet and crushed and torn no one would know him, except for the uniform, and the white hand with the ring on it." Jean sat down, very pale, and the man described the finding of the poor shattered body. As he finished, Coventry appeared, and with one look of mingled remorse, shame, and sorrow, the elder brother went away, to find and bring the younger home. Jean crept into the garden like a guilty thing, trying to hide the satisfaction which struggled with a woman's natural pity, for so sad an end for this brave young life. "'Why waste tears o' feigned sorrow when I must be glad?' she muttered, as she paced to and fro along the terrace. "'The poor boy is out of pain, and I am out of danger.' She got no further, for turning as she spoke, she stood face to face with Edward. Bearing no mark of peril on dress or person, but stalwart and strong as ever, he stood there looking at her with contempt and compassion struggling in his face. As if turned to stone, she remained motionless, with dilated eyes, a rested breath, and paling cheek. He did not speak, but watched her silently till she put out a trembling hand, as if to assure herself, by touch, that it was really he. Then he drew back, and as if the act convinced as fully as words, she said slowly,