God and the King

by Marjorie Bowen

  CHAPTER II

  THE KING IS NEEDED

  Sunderland remained by the silent King, on whom he kept his clear,strong glance; Portland and the beautiful Romney went into theantechamber, where they could speak freely.

  "What charlatan's trick is this?" said the Earl, in a low, angry voice."Who is this officer from Flanders? It is strange to hear my LordSunderland mouth these godly sentiments--he, a man merely fighting for aplace----"

  "Yet he spoke," admitted Romney, "and we were silent. And he roused theKing. If it be mere self-interest it had the effect of sincerity."

  Portland made no answer; he knew that he could not have spoken toWilliam with the quiet tact and insinuating boldness that Sunderlandhad, but he knew also that he had served and loved the King in a waySunderland could probably not even understand, and his heart swelled atwhat he considered calculated tricks to goad the King into filling aposition where he might be useful to my lord; in this Portland's rigidhonesty was unfair to Sunderland, who, though he was knavish sometimesin his means, was seldom knavish in his ends, and perhaps strove for ashigh an ideal as William Bentinck, though by different ways.

  Lord Romney spoke again.

  "After all, what doth it matter--if the King could be drawn out of hissloth?"

  Portland's fair face was still dark and sombre; he rather despised theEnglishman; he rather regretted the day when he had come to England totake up these perilous honours among a people who detested him. Romneyglanced at him, gave a little shrug, and returned to the King's room;his love for William was of a different quality, his code was easier; hewas thankful that the King should, under any circumstances, recover hisbalance, and he, Henry Sidney, could see no great dishonour in thepublic actions of my Lord Sunderland, and regarded him from no suchstern standpoint as did William Bentinck.

  He found the King had moved and now sat beside the bureau piled with theuntouched correspondence. Sunderland was still at the window lookingout at the inky line of the river between the white banks and the slowprogress of a barge with dull yellow sails that struggled with asluggish wind past Whitehall stairs.

  Romney went over to him.

  "You have done much, my lord," he whispered warmly; "we must all begrateful."

  Sunderland turned his faded, powdered face from the window.

  "He will finish the campaign yet, I think," he answered.

  The Lord Keeper and Lord Portland re-entered the room, and with them wasa third gentleman, who went at once to Lord Sunderland, like one waitingfor directions; that nobleman took him gently by the arm and drew himtowards the King, who had not yet looked up.

  "Sire," he said, "Your Majesty knoweth M. van Keppel, who hath been someyears in your service."

  The King raised his eyes and saw the splendid figure of a young Dutchofficer standing before him with great humility and respect.

  "Yes, I remember you, Mynheer," he murmured, with a faint animation, andspeaking his own language.

  Sunderland stepped back and the young soldier went on one knee.

  "Are you come from Flanders?" asked William.

  "Yes, sire."

  "From my Cousin Vaudemont's force?"

  "Yes, sire."

  "What is your business with us?" asked the King faintly.

  Joost van Keppel rose.

  "My business is more than I dare broach," he said humbly.

  The King looked at him kindly.

  "I shall not be angry." He exerted himself to graciousness, and hisglance seemed to rest with a wistful kind of pleasure on the youth.

  Certainly Joost van Keppel had an appearance well calculated to win thehearts of those who looked upon him, for a mingled sweetness and ardourmade a kind of radiance in his face, as if he gave forth the light ofhope and courage. He was tall and robust, of a bright fairness, withdark brown eyes of an extraordinary power and gentleness, a smiling,strong mouth, and a fine carriage of nobility in his port; hisrich-coloured brown hair hung in full curls over his gay and vividuniform; there was a great quantity of gold on his sword belt and in hisshoulder knots; in the firelight he glittered from head to foot with achanging light of gold; but despite his youthful strength and themagnificence of his appointments the prevailing impression of his personwas that of a gentle, soft, and winning sweetness that sat verygraciously on the unconscious demeanour of a noble soldier.

  "Were you not a page to us?" asked the King.

  "Yes, Your Majesty. I was with those who had the honour to come toEngland with Your Majesty," answered M. van Keppel. "Your Majesty showedme great kindness in promoting me."

  He had a gentle and charming address, an eager air of deference whollypleasing.

  "I had forgotten," said the King. "So you have come from Flanders?"

  He gave a little sigh.

  "Oh, sire!" cried Joost van Keppel, "I am come to tell Your Majesty thatwe need you!"

  The King sat up and looked at Portland and the Englishmen.

  "Ah!" he said, in an angry, broken voice. "What device is this you putupon me? No use, my lords, no use; this back will bear no moreburdens."

  "Absolve me," cried Portland. "I know nothing of this----"

  "A trick," continued the King--"a trick to spur me. What are you,Mynheer, to come and tell me of my duty?"

  M. van Keppel threw himself again on his knees.

  "The King is needed," he repeated, with great passion. "I love YourMajesty enough to dare tell you so. Sire, the Republic crieth out toYour Majesty!"

  "Who told you to speak thus?" asked William bitterly.

  "M. Heinsius," answered the young soldier instantly.

  At that name the King changed countenance.

  "M. Heinsius," he muttered; then he fixed M. van Keppel with a keen lookand added--"Why did he choose you?"

  "Because Your Majesty used to have some kindness for me," was the reply,given with a frank modesty; "because no man living could revere YourMajesty more than I do."

  "I am not used to be so courted," said William sternly. "You have tooready a tongue. M. Heinsius may find another messenger."

  He rose and would have turned away, but the young man, still on hisknees, caught the King's stiff silk coat skirts.

  "Will the Prince of Orange ever refuse to listen to the appeal of theUnited Provinces?" he asked, with singular sweetness and force.

  William looked down at him, hesitated, then said faintly--

  "Rise, Mynheer. I am not your King. As for the Republic"--he sank intothe great wand-bottomed chair again and said abruptly--"how think theythe campaign will go?"

  M. van Keppel got to his feet and stood his full splendid height.

  "M. de Vaudemont saith, sire, that if Your Majesty would come to lead usthere is no question that the allies might do more than they have everdone." He paused a moment, then continued, "M. de Boufflers is guardingthe banks of the Sambre; a great army is collected from the Lys to theScheldt. M. de Villeroy, they say, is to fix his headquarters atTournay; but the allies are ready to take the field--operations couldbegin next month. M. de Vaudemont and M. Heinsius have written so toYour Majesty."

  William glanced at the pile of unopened correspondence; he flushed andlooked again at M. van Keppel.

  "Sire," said the young soldier proudly, "there is Fleurus, Steinkirk,and Landen to avenge. I rode past Namur a week ago and saw the Bourbonlilies flying above the keep."

  "Namur!" repeated William, and his eyes widened.

  The loss of Namur had been the worst disaster of all the disasters ofthe war. William had perhaps never known such humiliation as when thegreat fortress fell before his eyes.

  "M. de Vauban," continued Joost van Keppel, "hath added to thefortifications of M. Kohorn and declared the town impregnable; they havefixed a vaunting notice over the gate defying us to retake it--but,sire, it could be done."

  "There spoke a soldier!" flashed the King. "That spirit in my menwrested back the three Provinces in '74."
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  "That spirit is alive still, sire--they who drove back the French thencould take Namur now."

  William looked at Sunderland.

  "Would your English be pleased," he asked, "if we took Namur?"

  "There is nothing would so delight the people as a great victory in theLow Countries," answered that nobleman.

  "So they defy us," said the King. "And Namur is even more importantthan it was; it must be the strongest fortress in Europe. Certainly itis a prize worth while."

  M. van Keppel spoke again.

  "M. de Maine is to be sent with M. de Villeroy."

  "So they send M. de Maine to fight us, do they?" exclaimed the King."We should be the equal of M. de Maine."

  He looked kindly and steadily at M. van Keppel.

  "My child," he said, "you are a good patriot, and that is the best thingin the world to be. We must give you a regiment. We hope to see you inFlanders."

  He smiled, and the young soldier, who had been taught all his life toregard him as the first of living men, bowed, overwhelmed, with tears ofpleasure in his eyes.

  William gave him his hand and Joost van Keppel kissed it reverently,then, at a delicate sign from Sunderland, retired, followed by the LordKeeper.

  The King sat very quiet, looking into the fire. Portland came and stoodbehind his chair.

  "Will you go out to the war?" he asked.

  "Yes," said William simply.

  Sunderland darted a sideway look at Portland, who flushed.

  "I am indeed glad of that," he said sternly.

  "That is a gallant youngster," said the King. "I ever liked him. Iwill keep him about me; he is a pleasant creature."

  "He is," replied Portland; "a rakehelly good-for-nought, as every oneknows."

  William smiled faintly; he was the most tolerant of men, and had nointerest in those faults that did not cross his designs.

  "I have loved rakes before," he said, and looked at my Lord Romney.

  The two Englishmen laughed a little, but Portland answered, with someanger--

  "He is a young prodigal with more debts than wits; you should not havegiven him your hand."

  The King did not resent his friend's brusque address, he answeredquietly, in his weak voice--

  "It would give me pleasure to pay some of those debts."

  Sunderland softly put in a remark.

  "M. van Keppel is the most obliging, sweet-tempered gentleman in theworld, and one most devoted to Your Majesty."

  "And a great friend of your lordship," said Portland, with a coldhaughtiness. He perceived, as he thought, a design on the part ofSunderland and Somers, with perhaps Marlborough behind them, to put up arival to share with him the King's affections, which had been wholly hisfor near their joint lives, and he could not contain his scorn andresentment, nor was he assuaged by the obvious unconsciousness of theKing.

  Romney made some attempt to shift the subject; he came forward in theeasy gracious way habitual to him.

  "Your Majesty will be soon for Flanders, then?" he asked. "It is a nobleresolution."

  William rose.

  "I think it is my duty," he answered. He took up the plans of GreenwichPalace from the window-sill. "I think it is all there is for me to do.I thank you, my lords," he added, with dignity, "for having so longborne with me."

  He gave a little bow and left them to enter the inner room. As the doorclosed on him Sunderland smiled at the other two.

  "Have I not succeeded?" he demanded. "He is roused, he will go out tothe war, I even think that he will take Namur."

  "You are very clever, my lord," admitted Romney, "and surely you havedone the King a great service."

  Portland broke in hotly--

  "You pulled the strings of your puppet very skilfully; you know how todeal with the weaknesses of men, but those who are the King his friendsdo not love to see him practised on for party purposes."

  "I stand for more than party purposes," answered Sunderland, with suddenhaughtiness. "My cause is the King his cause--that is sufficient--andfor the rest, my deeds are not answerable at the tribunal of yourvirtues, my lord."

  Portland came a step nearer to him.

  "You scarce believe in God--you are little better than an atheist--yetall these terms are glib upon your tongue, and your tool, a shallowpopinjay, can prate very nicely of sacred things. You are notsincere--you care for nothing--for no one."

  Romney made a little movement as if he would have stepped between thetwo earls, but Sunderland answered unmoved--

  "I have my policy too much at heart to jeopardize it by expounding itmyself. I fear that my principles would suffer by my lack ofeloquence."

  "Your principles!" cried Portland. "Your policy--what is it?"

  "Too precious a thing for me to risk on a turn of the tongue, I repeat,my lord. I speak in actions. Watch them and know my answer."