“And they will fail in effect, my liege, because her heart is hardened, and she is blind to her sinfulness,” said the priest. “She would rather sacrifice her brother than help to re-establish our religion.”
“Trust me, my liege, Father Norman has formed a just estimate of the queen’s character,” said Lord Derwentwater. “’Tis vain to appeal to good feelings, where none exist.”
“But I do not believe she is so utterly devoid of natural affection as her conduct would seem to bespeak,” said the prince. “You shall judge from what I am about to tell you. I have solicited a private interview with her in Saint James’s Palace, and she has granted my request.”
“Granted it!” exclaimed Lord Derwentwater in astonishment, that was shared by the others.
“Ay,” replied the prince. “My letter was conveyed by a faithful friend, and the answer to it was that her majesty would see me. Nothing more. But that was all I asked. She felt compunction for her ill-doing, or she would have refused my request.”
“But how will you obtain admittance to her, my liege?” asked Lord Derwentwater.
“Easily,” replied the prince. “The Earl of Mar will usher me into her presence.”
“This certainly seems favourable, and alters my view of the matter,” said the earl. “Yet it may be a device of Harley to ensnare your majesty. Are you certain that your letter reached the queen?”
“My emissary would not deceive me,” replied the prince. “He is as loyal as yourself.”
“If I may speak plainly to your majesty,” remarked Charles Radclyffe, “I would say that I have still great doubts. The queen may delude you with false hopes, to keep you quiet.”
“Nay, she will keep her promise if she makes it. Of that I am convinced,” said Father Norman.
At this juncture the butler entered to say that luncheon was served, upon which the earl conducted his guest to the dining-room, where a very substantial repast awaited them.
The Chevalier de Saint George had not breakfasted, and his early morning’s ride having given him a good appetite, he did ample justice to the broiled trout from the Devil’s Water, and the cutlets of Tyne salmon set before him.
As the servants were present during the repast, he was treated merely as an ordinary visitor, and the conversation between him and the earl was conducted entirely in French.
This circumstance excited the suspicion of Mr. Newbiggin, the butler, who from the first had been struck by the stranger’s appearance and manner, and he soon became convinced that Mr. Johnson, as the prince was called, was a very important personage.
On quitting the dining-room, the butler found the earl’s chief valet in the entrance-hall, and said to him:
“I can’t make out this Mr. Johnson, Thirlwall. I should like to know what you think of him?”
“I’m puzzled, I own,” replied the other. “He seems to me like a Frenchman.”
“No more a Frenchman than his lordship is, Thirlwall. But I shouldn’t wonder,” said the butler, knowingly, “if he has been brought up at a French court.”
“At the Court of Saint Germains?” cried Thirlwall.
“Precisely,” said the butler.
“Why, you seem to insinuate that it’s the Chevalier de Saint George in person, Newbiggin.”
“I’ve my own idea on that point, Thirlwall,” said the butler. “If it should turn out as I suspect, we’re on the eve of an insurrection. The prince wouldn’t come here on a trifling errand. But keep quiet for the present — this is mere conjecture.”
The butler then returned to the dining-room, while Mr. Thirlwall hurried to the servants’ hall, where he retailed all he had just heard, with some additions of his own.
In less than half an hour it was known among the whole household that his majesty, King James the Third, had arrived, in disguise, at the castle.
CHAPTER III
Nicholas Ribbleton
IF any confirmation were wanted of the suspicions now generally entertained by Mr. Newbiggin and the rest of the servants that a rising was imminent, it was afforded by the earl, who took his guest, as soon as luncheon was over, to see the arms stored in the old tower.
The inspection occupied some time, for three or four chambers had to be visited, each full of muskets, calivers, pistols, cartouche-boxes, powder- horns, shot-bags, belts, swords of various sizes and make, hatchets, pikes, halberts, black leather caps, drums, kettle-drums, trumpets, fifes, and other martial instruments. In a vault beneath the basement floor were bestowed several barrels of gunpowder.
When the examination was finished the prince expressed himself delighted with the preparations made.
“You told me you could arm and equip two or three hundred men, cousin,” he said. “And I now perceive you did not exaggerate. But where are the men?”
“I have but to ride to Alston Moor, my liege, to find them, and bring them back with me,” said Charles Radclyffe.
“Men and arms are ready,” said the earl. “Shall we raise the standard?” he added, lifting up the flag.
At this moment, as if in response to the appeal, shouts were heard outside, and several voices exclaimed:
“Long live King James the Third!”
“Is this premeditated, cousin?” said the prince.
“No, by my faith,” replied the earl. “But it seems your majesty’s presence has been discovered — how I know not. Shall I send away the troublesome varlets?”
“‘Twere needless, since the discovery has been made,” said the prince, who did not seem much displeased.
“Your majesty need feel no uneasiness,” observed Father Norman, who formed one of the party. “There are no traitors at Dilston. All here are loyal, and would die rather than betray you.”
“On that assurance I shall not hesitate to show myself to them,” said the prince. “Attend me, I pray you, cousin.”
The massive door being thrown open, a singular spectacle was seen.
In front of the tower was collected a large number of the household, with several out-door servants — grooms, game-keepers, huntsmen, gardeners, and their assistants — most of them young and active-looking, though the coachman was old and stout, and there were three or four others, who must have lived in the family for half a century. But these were just as enthusiastic as their comrades.
When the prince appeared another loud shout arose, and would have been renewed had not the earl commanded silence.
“I thank you heartily, my good friends, for this manifestation of your zeal,” said the prince. “Do not imagine, because I have come hither in disguise, that I am afraid to trust myself with you, or, in the slightest degree, doubt your fidelity. The Earl of Derwentwater, your master, is my best friend, and dear to me as a brother. No one can live with him without sharing his sentiments. I could not, therefore, have any distrust. But I feared that in the excess of your zeal you might not keep guard upon your tongues, and I am very desirous that my landing in England, and arrival at Dilston, should not be known for the present. Secrecy, as you will easily understand, is essential to the success of my projects.”
A murmur of delight arose from the assemblage, but further shouting was checked by Newbiggin, who, stepping forward, made a profound obeisance to the prince, and said:
“Your majesty need fear no indiscretion on our part. I will answer for my fellow-servants. We know the importance of our trust.”
“Ay, that we do,” cried several voices.
“I am perfectly satisfied,” said the prince; “and I shall feel easier now that this explanation has taken place. Again accept my thanks for your manifestation of sympathy and attachment to me. I cannot speak to you all, but there is one among you to whom I would fain say a word.”
And he designated a tall, fine old man, standing at the back of the assemblage.
“That is Nicholas Ribbleton, my liege,” said Newbiggin. “He lived with his lordship’s grandfather.”
“And was much liked by him, and by my father,” added the earl.
“Nicholas Ribbleton will always have a home at Dilston.”
“Bring him to me,” said the prince.
Summoned by the butler, old Ribbleton would have thrown himself at the prince’s feet, but the latter prevented him, and gave him his hand, which the old man pressed devotedly to his heart.
“I never expected such an honour as this,” he said. “Your majesty is too gracious to me. I have always been devoted to your royal house, and shall continue so to the last. It may sound boastful when I say that both King Charles the Second, and your august father, King James, deigned to notice me. Long have I desired to behold your majesty, and now the wish is gratified.” Here emotion choked his utterance for a moment, but he added, “If I live to see your majesty on the throne I shall die content. Long have we looked for your coming, but now you are come, don’t turn back till you have won the victory. You have right on your side. The crown belongs to your majesty, and not to Queen Anne. If she won’t surrender it, take it! Such is the advice that an old man, who has spoken to the king your father, and your royal uncle, dares to give you. Pardon my freedom, sire!”
“I not only pardon it, but am obliged to you for speaking so freely,” replied the prince, in a gracious and encouraging tone. “What will you say if Queen Anne should surrender the crown to me?”
“I shall say that a miracle has been worked,” said Ribbleton. “But judging by her conduct, it seems very unlikely that she will act justly. Were I your majesty, I wouldn’t trust her promises, however fair they may be.”
“Thou art too bold, Ribbleton,” interposed Lord Derwentwater.
“Nay, I am not offended,” said the prince. “There is wisdom in the old man’s words. I will have some further talk with you anon, my good friend,” he added to Ribbleton, who made an obeisance, and retired highly pleased.
At the same time Newbiggin gave a sign to the rest of the household, and the place was quickly cleared.
CHAPTER IV
The Little Chapel
LORD DERWENTWATER then took his royal guest to the stables, and showed him his fine stud of horses, with which the prince was greatly pleased. After looking over the collection, his highness made choice of a strong hackney for his proposed journey. The earl offered him his own dapple-grey steed, but the prince would not deprive him of his favourite.
No precise orders were given, but two of the grooms were told that they might have to set out for London on the morrow, and must therefore make all needful arrangements. The men asked no questions, but promised that his lordship’s injunctions should be attended to.
Father Norman had not accompanied the party to the stables, but proceeded to the little chapel before alluded to, where he was joined by the prince, and received his highness’s confession.
Mass was afterwards performed, at which most of the household assisted — several of the female servants being present.
It was a pleasing sight to see the little place of worship on that interesting occasion. Doubtless, many of the persons there assembled thought more of the prince than of their devotions, but their behaviour was extremely decorous.
The chapel was not larger than an ordinary room, and very simply furnished. In a small oaken pew at the upper end, on the right of the altar, sat the Chevalier de Saint George — almost concealed from view. In a similar pew on the left were the Earl of Derwentwater and his brother. On wooden benches behind were collected the servants — the women sitting by themselves on the left. Many a curious eye was fixed on the prince whenever he arose. The solemn service was admirably performed by Father Norman.
Strange thoughts possessed Lord Derwentwater. In the family vault beneath the chapel lay his sire and grandsire, both of whom had been devoted to the Stuarts. Might not their shades be hovering around? Exceedingly superstitious, the earl thought so, and so did Charles Radclyffe.
The congregation had dispersed — long to remember the event.
Before quitting the chapel, the prince said to the earl:
“Are not some of your family buried here, my lord?”
“My father and my grandfather,” replied the other. “And if aught could rouse them from their slumbers it would be your majesty’s presence.”
The prince remained silent for a moment, looking very grave, and then said:
“You will scarce credit me when I tell you that I saw — or fancied I saw — two figures standing between me and the altar. Their mournful looks seemed to convey a warning. I saw them only for a moment. They pointed to you and your brother, and then disappeared. What think you of this? Were they phantoms?”
“I know not what to think,” replied the earl. “No such appearances have ever been beheld before, but then no prince of your royal house has ever before knelt within this chapel. We will consult Father Norman anon. Meantime, let me take your majesty to the garden. You must banish these gloomy thoughts.”
A stroll through the charming gardens quickly produced the desired effect. As yet the prince had seen nothing of the beauties of the place, and was unacquainted with the commanding position of the castle. The view from the terrace enchanted him, and he remained for some time contemplating the lovely scene in silence, and then broke out into raptures. By his own request he was next taken to the deer-park, and halted on the bridge to look at the castle. It has already been mentioned that this was the best point from which the stately structure could be surveyed, and the prince was of that opinion.
“How well the castle looks as it towers above us,” he cried, “and what a striking picture it makes, combined with this deep glen, the rushing stream, and yonder woods, with the Tyne in the distance! You could not have a nobler residence, cousin.”
“Undoubtedly, my liege, I ought to be content with it,” rejoined the earl; “and so I am. Yet I must own I should prefer the old stronghold that once stood there, and of which you have just seen a relic; and had it not been demolished by my grandfather, Earl Francis, I would have preserved it. Imagine how well the stern old pile must have looked, perched on that height, and how completely it must have harmonised with this ravine, and with the woods. Its position and strength considered, it is not surprising that the Scottish marauders, though they often came in force, could never take it. The fortress might have stood a siege in our own time.”
“Very true,” replied the prince, smiling. “And on that account its destruction may be regretted. Otherwise, the modern building is most to my taste. I could desire nothing better.”
“I trust, ere long, Windsor Castle may be yours, my liege,” said Lord Derwentwater; “and then you will think little of Dilston.”
“Dilston cannot vie with Windsor, that is certain, cousin. Nevertheless, it is a splendid place, and you are fortunate in possessing it. The mansion only wants one thing to make it perfect. You can guess what I mean. But I will tell you plainly. A lady ought to grace it.”
“I shall wait till your majesty is restored before I take a wife,” said the earl.
“Why wait?” said the Chevalier de Saint George. “Has no fair Northumbrian damsel caught your eye? I am told Tom Forster’s sister, Dorothy, is marvellously beautiful. She may not be rich, but you do not want a dower.”
“Dorothy Forster is a very charming girl, I admit, and has many agreeable qualities, but I never thought seriously of her.”
“Strange you should have alluded to her in one of your letters to me.”
“Your majesty reminds me that I compared her very advantageously with her brother, who is a mere country squire, and not remarkable for wit, whereas Dorothy is extremely lively and clever, besides being very pretty. But I didn’t mean to intimate that I had fallen in love with her.”
“You gave me that impression, I confess, cousin,” said the Chevalier de Saint George. “I fully expected your next letter would tell me you were engaged to her. Is she very young?”
“About eighteen, I fancy.”
“Just the age. And she rides well, I think you said?”
“Admirably. Tom Forster keeps t
he best pack of hounds in the county, and she goes out with them.”
“I only see one objection. Her brother does not belong to our religion.”
“But she does,” rejoined the earl.
“Then you cannot do better than make choice of her.”
“Even if I were to take your majesty’s advice, it does not follow I should be accepted.”
“Bah! the Earl of Derwentwater is not likely to be refused.”
“Dorothy Forster will wed no one she does not love. Nor would I wed her unless certain I had won her heart.”
“Have you any doubt upon the point, cousin?”
“Your majesty is pleased to rally me.”
“I want an answer to the question.”
Just then an interruption to their discourse was offered by Charles Radclyffe, who came hurriedly down to the bridge to announce that some visitors had arrived at the castle.
“Newbiggin couldn’t send them away, and was driven to his wit’s end, for they would come in,” said Charles.
“Who are they?” asked the earl.
“Mr. Forster of Bamborough, and his sister,” replied Charles.
“Indeed!” exclaimed the prince. “This is a lucky chance.”
“It would have mattered little if they had been alone, my liege,” said Charles. “Unluckily, Sir John Webb of Canford, Lady Webb, and their daughter are with them, and the whole party evidently intend to stay here till to- morrow. Sir John and Lady Webb have brought a great coach with them and a pack of servants, but the two girls and Tom Forster came on horseback. Forster wouldn’t hear a word from Newbiggin, but told him he was sure his lordship would be glad to see them.”
“And so I should, under other circumstances,” said the earl.
“Heed me not,” cried the prince. “I am pleased at this opportunity of meeting Mr. Forster and Sir John Webb, both of whom I know are my warm partisans.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 724