CHAPTER XIII
_For the glory of England?_
The King entered the room with his historic stride. His brow was clouded;but it was all humorous pretence, for trifles were not wont to weighheavily upon his Majesty. With him came Portsmouth.
"Can you forgive me, Sire?" she asked. "I had promised the dance to BeauAdair. I did not know you, Sire; you masked so cleverly."
"'Sdeath, fair flatterer!" replied the King. "I have lived too long toworry o'er the freaks of women."
"The youth knew not to whom he spoke," still pleaded Portsmouth. "Hisintroduction here bespeaks his pardon, Sire."
The King looked sardonic, but his laugh had a human ring.
"He is too pretty to kill," he declared, dramatically. "We'll forgivehim for your sake. And now good night."
"So soon?" asked Portsmouth, anxiously.
"It is late," he replied.
"Not while the King is here," she sighed. "Night comes only when hedeparts."
"Your words are sweet," said Charles, thoughtfully observing her.
She sighed again.
"My thoughts stumble in your speech," she said. "I regret I have notEnglish blood within my veins."
"And why?"
"The King would trust and love me then. He does not now. I am French andpowerless to do him good."
There was a touch of honest sadness in her speech which awakened theKing's sympathy.
"Nay," he said hastily, to comfort her; "'tis thy fancy. Thyentertainment hath made me grateful--to Louis and Louise."
"Think not of Louis and Louise," she said, sadly and reproachfully, "butof thy dear self and England's glory. For shame! Ah, Sire, mychildhood-dreams were of sunny France, where I was born; atVersailles--at Fontainebleau among the monarch trees--my early womanhoodsighed for love. France gave me all but that. It came not till I saw theEnglish King!"
The siren of the Nile never looked more bewitchingly beautiful than thissiren of France as she half reclined upon the couch, playing upon theKing's heart with a bit of memory. His great nature realized her sorrowand encompassed it.
"And am I not good to thee, child?" he asked. He took her hand andresponded to her eyes, though not with the tenderness of love--thetenderness for which she sought.
"You are good to none," she replied, bitterly; "for you are not good toCharles."
"You speak enigmas," he said, curious.
"Have you forgotten your promise?" she asked, naively.
"Nay; the passport, pretty one?" he answered, amused at the woman'swiles. "All this subterfuge of words for that! There; rest in peace. Thyfriend hath a path to France at will."
He smiled kindly as he took the passport from his girdle, handed it toher and turned to take his leave.
"My thanks are yours. Stay, Sire," she said, hastily; for her missionwas not yet complete and the night was now well gone. "Passports aretrifles. Will you not leave the Dutch to Louis and his army? Think!"
She placed her arms about his neck and looked enticingly into his eyes.
"But," he replied, kindly, "my people demand that I intervene and staymy brother Louis's aggressive hand."
"Are the people king?" she asked, with coy insinuation. "Do they knowbest for England's good? Nay, Sire, for your good and theirs, I beseech,no more royal sympathy for Holland. I speak to avoid entanglements forKing Charles and to make his reign the greater. I love you, Sire." Shefell upon her knee. "I speak for the glory of England."
His Majesty was influenced by her beauty and her arts,--what man wouldnot be?--but more by the sense of what she said.
"For the glory of England?" he asked himself. "True, my people arewrong. 'Tis better we remain aloof. No wars!"
He took the seat by the table, which the Duchess offered him, andscanned casually the parchment which she handed to him.
Nell peered between the curtains. Strings was close behind her.
"Bouillon's signature for France," mused the King. "'Tis well! No moresympathy for the Dutch, Louise, until Holland sends a beauty to ourcourt to outshine France's ambassador."
He looked at Portsmouth, smiled and signed the instrument, which hadbeen prepared, as he thought, in accordance with his wishes anddirections. He then carelessly tossed the sand over the signature toblot it.
The fair Duchess's eyes revealed all the things which all the adjectivesof all the lands ever meant.
"Holland may outshine in beauty, Sire," she said, kneeling by the King'sside, "but not in sacrifice and love." She kissed his hand fervently.
He sat complacently looking into her eyes, scarce mindful of herinsinuating arts of love. He was fascinated with her, it is true; but itwas with her beauty, flattery and sophistry, not her heart.
"I believe thou dost love England and her people's good," he said,finally. "Thy words art wise."
Portsmouth leaned fondly over his shoulder.
"One more request," she said, with modest mien, "a very little one,Sire."
The King laughed buoyantly.
"Nay, an I stay here," he said, "thy beauty will win my kingdom! What isthy little wish, sweet sovereign?"
"No more Parliaments in England, Sire," she said, softly.
"What, woman!" he exclaimed, rising, half-aghast, half-humorous, at thesuggestion; for he too had an opinion of Parliament.
"To cross the sway of thy great royal state-craft," she continued,quickly following up the advantage which her woman's wit taught her shehad gained. "The people's sufferings from taxation spring fromParliament only, Sire."
"'Tis true," agreed Charles, decisively.
Portsmouth half embraced him.
"For the people's good, Sire," she urged, "for my sweetest kiss."
"You are mad," said Charles, yet three-fourths convinced; "my people--"
"Will be richer for my kiss," the Duchess interrupted, wooingly, "andtheir King, by divine right and heritage, will rule untrammelled bycountry clowns, court knaves and foolish lords, who now make up a sillyParliament. With such a King, England will be better with no Parliamentto hinder. Think, Sire, think!"
"I have thought of this before," said Charles, who had often foundParliament troublesome and, therefore, useless. "The taxes will be lessand contention saved."
BETWEEN TWO FIRES]"Why hesitate then?" she asked. "This hour's as good for a good deed asany."
"For England's sake?" reflected Charles, inquiringly, as he took thesecond parchment from her hands. "Heaven direct my judgment for mypeople's good. I sign."
The treaties which Louis XIV. of France had sent the artful beauty toprocure lay signed upon her desk.
Nell almost pulled the portieres from their hangings in her excitement.
"I must see those papers," she thought. "There's no good brewing."
Portsmouth threw her arms about the King and kissed him passionately.
"Now, indeed, has England a great King," she said, adding to herself:"And that King Louis's slave!"
Charles smiled and took his leave. As he passed through the portal, hewiped his lips, good-humouredly muttering: "Portsmouth's kisses andNell's do not mix well."
Portsmouth listened for a moment to his departing footsteps, thendropped into the chair by the table and hastily folded and addressed thepapers.
Her mission was ended!
Mistress Nell: A Merry Tale of a Merry Time Page 14