Chapter XXVIII--De Lannoy

by Bram Stoker

　　Two years!Not much to look back upon, but a world to look forward to. ToStephen, dowered though she was with rare personal gifts and withwealth and position accorded to but few, the hours of waiting werelonger than the years that were past. Yet the time had new andstartling incidents for her. Towards Christmas in the second yearthe Boer war had reached its climax of evil. As the news of disasterafter disaster was flashed through the cable she like others feltappalled at the sacrifices that were being exacted by the God of War.One day she casually read in The Times that the Earl de Lannoy haddied in his London mansion, and further learned that he had neverrecovered from the shock of hearing that his two sons and his nephewhad been killed. The paragraph concluded: "By his death the titlepasses to a distant relative. The new Lord de Lannoy is at presentin India with his regiment, the 35th or 'Grey' Hussars, of which heis Colonel." She gave the matter a more than passing thought, for itwas sad to find a whole family thus wiped out at a blow.Early in February she received a telegram from her London solicitorsaying that he wished to see her on an important matter. Her answerwas: "Come at once"; and at tea-time Mr. Copleston arrived. He wasan old friend and she greeted him warmly. She was a little chilledwhen he answered with what seemed unusual deference:'I thank your Ladyship for your kindness!' She raised her eyebrowsbut made no comment: she was learning to be silent under surprise.When she had handed the old gentleman his tea she said:'My aunt has chosen to remain away, thinking that you might wish tosee me privately. But I take it that there is nothing which she maynot share. I have no secrets from her.'He rubbed his hands genially as he replied:'Not at all; not at all! I should like her to be present. It will,I am sure, be a delight to us all.'Again raised eyebrows; again silence on the subject. When a servantanswered her bell she told him to ask Miss Rowly if she would kindlyjoin them.Aunt Laetitia and the solicitor were old cronies, and their greetingwas most friendly. When the old gentlewoman had seated herself andtaken her cup of tea, Mr. Copleston said to Stephen, with a sort ofpomposity:'I have to announce your succession to the Earldom de Lannoy!'Stephen sat quite still. She knew the news was true; Mr. Coplestonwas not one who would jest on a business subject, and too accurate alawyer to make an error in a matter of fact. But the fact did notseem to touch her. It was not that she was indifferent to it; fewwomen could hear such news without a thrill. Mr. Copleston seemed ata loss. Miss Rowly rose and quietly kissed her, and saying simply,'God bless you, my dear!' went back to her seat.Realising that Mr. Copleston expected some acknowledgment, Stephenheld out her hand to him and said quietly:'Thank you!'After a long pause she added quietly:'Now, won't you tell us about it? I am in absolute ignorance; anddon't understand.''I had better not burden you, at first, with too many details, whichcan come later; but give you a rough survey of the situation.''Your title of Countess de Lannoy comes to you through your ancestorIsobel, third and youngest daughter of the sixth Earl; MessrsCollinbrae and Jackson, knowing that my firm acted for your family,communicated with us. Lest there should be any error we followedmost carefully every descendant and every branch of the family, forwe thought it best not to communicate with you till your right ofinheritance was beyond dispute. We arrived independently at the sameresult as Messrs. Collinbrae and Jackson. There is absolutely nodoubt whatever of your claim. You will petition the Crown, and onreference to the House of Lords the Committee for Privileges willadmit your right. May I offer my congratulations, Lady de Lannoy onyour acquisition? By the way, I may say that all the estates of theEarldom, which have been from the first kept in strict entail, gowith the title de Lannoy.'During the recital Stephen was conscious of a sort of bitter commenton the tendencies of good fortune.'Too late! too late!' something seemed to whisper, 'what delight itwould have been had Father inherited . . . If Harold had not gone . .. !' All the natural joy seemed to vanish, as bubbles break intoempty air.To Aunt Laetitia the new title was a source of pride and joy, fargreater than would have been the case had it come to herself. Shehad for so many years longed for new honours for Stephen that she hadalmost come to regard them as a right whose coming should not be toolong delayed. Miss Rowly had never been to Lannoy; and, indeed, sheknew personally nothing of the county Angleshire in which it wassituated. She was naturally anxious to see the new domain; but kepther feeling concealed during the months that elapsed until Stephen'sright had been conceded by the Committee for Privileges. But afterthat her impatience became manifest to Stephen, who said one day in ateasing, caressing way, as was sometimes her wont:'Why, Auntie, what a hurry you are in! Lannoy will keep, won't it?''Oh, my dear,' she replied, shaking her head, 'I can understand yourown reticence, for you don't want to seem greedy and in a hurry aboutyour new possessions. But when people come to my age there's no timeto waste. I feel I would not have complete material for happiness inthe World-to-come, if there were not a remembrance of my darling inher new home!'Stephen was much touched; she said impulsively:'We shall go to-morrow, Auntie. No! Let us go to-day. You shallnot wait an hour that I can help!' She ran to the bell; but beforeher hand was on the cord the other said:'Not yet! Stephen dear. It would flurry me to start all at once;to-morrow will be time enough. And that will give you time to sendword so that they will be prepared for your coming.'How often do we look for that to-morrow which never comes? How oftendo we find that its looked-for rosy tints are none other than thegloom-laden grey of the present?Before the morrow's sun was high in the heavens Stephen was hurriedlysummoned to her aunt's bedside. She lay calm and peaceful; but oneside of her face was alive and the other seemingly dead. In thenight a paralytic stroke had seized her. The doctors said she mightin time recover a little, but she would never be her old active selfagain. She herself, with much painful effort, managed to convey toStephen that she knew the end was near. Stephen, knowing the wish ofher heart and thinking that it might do her good to gratify her wish,asked if she should arrange that she be brought to Lannoy. Feeblyand slowly, word by word, she managed to convey her idea.'Not now, dear one. I shall see it all in time!--Soon! And I shallunderstand and rejoice!' For a long time she lay still, holding withher right hand, which was not paralysed, the other's hand. Then shemurmured:'You will find happiness there!' She said no more; but seemed tosleep.From that sleep she never woke, but faded slowly, softly away.Stephen was broken-hearted. Now, indeed, she felt alone anddesolate. All were gone. Father, uncle, aunt!--And Harold. Thekingdoms of the Earth which lay at her feet were of no account. Onehour of the dead or departed, any of them, back again were worth themall!Normanstand was now too utterly lonely to be endurable; so Stephendetermined to go, for a time at any rate, to Lannoy. She wasbecoming accustomed to be called 'my lady' and 'your ladyship,' andthe new loneness made her feel better prepared to take her placeamongst new surroundings.In addition, there was another spur to her going. Leonard Everard,knowing of her absolute loneliness, and feeling that in it was apossibility of renewing his old status, was beginning to make himselfapparent. He had learned by experience a certain wisdom, and did notput himself forward obtrusively. But whenever they met he looked ather so meekly and so lovingly that it brought remembrances which camewith blushes. So, all at once, without giving time for the news topermeate through the neighbourhood, she took her way to Lannoy with afew servants.Stephen's life had hitherto been spent inland. She had of course nowand again been for short periods to various places; but the wonder ofthe sea as a constant companion had been practically unknown to her.Now at her new home its full splendour burst upon her; and soimpressed itself upon her that new life seemed to open.Lannoy was on the north-eastern coast, the castle standing at thebase of a wide promontory stretching far into the North Sea. Fromthe coast the land sloped upward to a great rolling ridge. Theoutlook seaward was over a mighty expanse of green sward, dotted hereand there with woods and isolated clumps of trees which grew fewerand smaller as the rigour of the northern sea was borne upon them bythe easterly gales.The coast was a wild and lonely one. No habitation other than anisolated fisher's cottage was to be seen between the little fishing-port at the northern curve away to the south, where beyond a waste ofsandhills and strand another tiny fishing-village nestled under ahigh cliff, sheltering it from northerly wind. For centuries thelords of Lannoy had kept their magnificent prospect to themselves;and though they had treated their farmers and cottagers well, nonehad ever been allowed to settle in the great park to seaward of thecastle.From the terrace of the castle only than one building, other than thecottage on the headland, could be seen. Far off on the very crest ofthe ridge was the tower of an old windmill.