Mistress Wilding

by Rafael Sabatini

  CHAPTER X. THEIR OWN PETARD

  In a lofty, spacious room of the town hall at Taunton sat Sir EdwardPhelips and Colonel Luttrell to dispense justice, and with them, flankedby one of them on either side of him, sat Christopher Monk, Duke ofAlbemarle, Lord-Lieutenant of Devonshire, who had been summoned inall haste from Exeter that he might be present at an examination whichpromised to be of so vast importance. The three sat at a long table atthe room's end, attended by two secretaries.

  Before them, guarded by constable and tything-men, weaponless, theirhands pinioned behind them--Blake's arm was healed by now--stood Mr.Westmacott and his friend Sir Rowland to answer this grave charge.

  Richard, not knowing who might have betrayed him and to what extent, wasvery fearful--having through his connection with the Cause every reasonso to be. Blake, on the other hand, conscious of his innocence of anyplotting, was impatient of his position, and a thought contemptuous.It was he who, upon being ushered by the constable and his men into theaugust presence of the Lord-Lieutenant, clamoured to know precisely ofwhat he was accused that he might straightway clear himself.

  Albemarle reared his great massive head, smothered in a mighty blackperuke, and scowled upon the florid London beau. A black-visagedgentleman was Christopher Monk. His pendulous cheeks, it is true, wereof a sallow pallor, but what with his black wig, black eyebrows, darkeyes, and the blue-black tint of shaven beard on his great jaw and upperlip, he presented an appearance sombrely sinister. His netherlip wasthick and very prominent; deep creases ran from the corners of his mouthadown his heavy chin; his eyes were dull and lack-lustre, with greatpouches under them. In the main, the air of this son of the greatParliamentarian general was stupid, dull, unprepossessing.

  The creases of his mouth deepened as Blake protested against what hetermed this outrage that had been done him; he sneered ponderously,thrusting further forward his heavily undershot jowl.

  "We are informed, sir, of your antecedents," he staggered Blake byanswering. "We have learnt the reason why you left London and yourcreditors, and in all my life, sir, I have never known a man more readyto turn his hand to treason than a broken gamester. Your kind turns byinstinct to such work as this, as a last resource for the mending ofbattered fortunes."

  Blake crimsoned from chin to brow. "I'm forejudged, it, seems," he madeanswer haughtily, tossing his fair locks, his blue eyes glaring upon hisjudges. "May I, at least, know the name of my accuser?"

  "You shall receive impartial justice at our hands," put in Phelips,whose manner was of a dangerous mildness. "Depend on that. Not onlyshall you know the name of your accuser, but you shall be confronted byhim. Meanwhile, sirs"--and his glance strayed from Blake's flushed andangry countenance to Richard's, pale and timid--"meanwhile, are we tounderstand that you deny the charge?"

  "I have heard none as yet," said Sir Rowland insolently.

  Albemarle turned to one of the secretaries. "Read them the indictment,"said he, and sank back in his chair, his dull glance upon the prisoners,whilst the clerk in a droning voice read from a document which he tookup. It impeached Sir Rowland Blake and Mr. Richard Westmacott of holdingtreasonable communication with James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, and ofplotting against His Majesty's life and throne and the peace of HisMajesty's realms.

  Blake listened with unconcealed impatience to the farrago of legalphrases, and snorted contemptuously when the reading came to an end.

  Albemarle looked at him darkly. "I do thank God," said he, "that throughMr. Westmacott's folly has this hideous plot, this black and damnabletreason, been brought to light in time to enable us to stamp out thisfire ere it is well kindled. Have you aught to say, sir?"

  "I have to say that the whole charge a foul and unfounded lie," said SirRowland bluntly: "I never plotted in my life against anything but my ownprosperity, nor against any man but myself."

  Albemarle smiled coldly at his colleagues, then turned to Westmacott."And you, sir?" he said. "Are you as stubborn as your friend?"

  "I incontinently deny the charge," said Richard, and he contrived thathis voice should ring bold and resolute.

  "A charge built on air," sneered Blake, "which the first breath of truthshould utterly dispel. We have heard the impeachment. Will Your Gracewith the same consideration permit us to see the proofs that we may laybare their falseness? It should not be difficult."

  "Do you say there is no such plot as is here alleged?" quoth the Duke,and smote a paper sharply.

  Blake shrugged his shoulders. "How should I know?" he asked. "I say Ihave no share in any, that I am acquainted with none."

  "Call Mr. Trenchard," said the Duke quietly, and an usher who had stoodtamely by the door at the far end of the room departed on the errand.

  Richard started at the mention of that name. He had a singular dread ofMr. Trenchard.

  Colonel Luttrell--lean and wiry--now addressed the prisoners, Blake moreparticularly. "Still," said he, "you will admit that such a plot may,indeed, exist?"

  "It may, indeed, for aught I know--or care," he added incautiously.

  Albemarle smote the table with a heavy hand. "By God!" he cried in thatdeep booming voice of his, "there spoke a traitor! You do not care, yousay, what plots may be hatched against His Majesty's life and crown! Yetyou ask me to believe you a true and loyal subject."

  Blake was angered; he was at best a short-tempered man. Deliberately hefloundered further into the mire.

  "I have not asked Your Grace to believe me anything," he answered hotly."It is all one to me what Your Grace believes me. I take it I have notbeen fetched hither to be confronted with what Your Grace believes. Youhave preferred a lying charge against me; I ask for proofs, not YourGrace's beliefs and opinions."

  "By God, sir, you are a daring rogue!" cried Albemarle.

  Sir Rowland's eyes blazed. "Anon, Your Grace, when, having failed ofyour proofs, you shall be constrained to restore me to liberty, I shallask Your Grace to unsay that word."

  Albemarle stared, confounded, and in that moment the door opened, andTrenchard sauntered in, cane in hand, his hat under his arm, a wickedsmile on his wizened face.

  Leaving Blake's veiled threat unanswered, the Duke turned to the oldrake. "These rogues," said he, pointing to the prisoners, "demand proofsere they will admit the truth of the impeachment."

  "Those proofs," said Trenchard, "are already in Your Grace's hands."

  "Aye, but they have asked to be confronted with their accuser."

  Trenchard bowed. "Is it your wish, then, that I recite for them thecounts on which I have based the accusation I laid before Your Grace?"

  "If you will condescend so far," said Albemarle.

  "Blister me...!" roared Blake, when the Duke interrupted him.

  "By God, sir!" he cried, "I'll have no such disrespectful language here.You'll observe the decency of speech and forbear from profanities, youdamned rogue, or by God! I'll commit you forthwith."

  "I will endeavour," said Blake, with a sarcasm lost on Albemarle, "tofollow Your Grace's lofty example."

  "You will do well, sir," said the Duke, and was shocked that Trenchardshould laugh at such a moment.

  "I was about to protest, sir," said Blake, "that it is monstrousI should be accused by Mr. Trenchard. He has but the slightestacquaintance with me."

  Trenchard bowed to him across the chamber. "Admitted, sir," saidhe. "What should I be doing in bad company?" An answer this that setAlbemarle bawling with laughter. Trenchard turned to the Duke. "I willbegin, an it please Your Grace, with the expressions used last night inmy presence at the Bell Inn at Bridgwater by Mr. Richard Westmacott, andI will confine myself strictly to those matters on which my testimonycan be corroborated by that of other witnesses."

  Colonel Luttrell interrupted him to turn to Richard. "Do you recallthose expressions, sir?" he asked him.

  Richard winced under the question. Nevertheless, he braced himself tomake the best defence he could. "I have not yet heard," said he, "whatthose expressions were; nor when I hear them mu
st it follow that Irecognize them as my own. I must admit to having taken more wine,perhaps, than... than..." Whilst he sought the expression that he neededTrenchard cut in with a laugh. "In vino veritas, gentlemen," andHis Grace and Sir Edward nodded sagely; Luttrell preserved a stolidexterior. He seemed less prone than his colleagues to forejudging.

  "Will you repeat the expressions used by Mr. Westmacott?" Sir Edwardbegged.

  "I will repeat the one that, to my mind, matters most." Mr. Westmacott,getting to his feet and in a loud voice, exclaimed, "God save theProtestant Duke!"

  "Do you admit it, sir?" thundered Albemarle, his eyes glowering uponRichard hesitated a moment, pale and trembling.

  "You will waste breath in denying it," said Trenchard suavely, "for Ihave a drawer from the Bell Inn, and two gentlemen who overheard youwaiting outside."

  "I'faith, sir," cried Blake, "what treason was therein that? If he..."

  "Silence!" thundered Albemarle. "Let Mr. Westmacott speak for himself."

  Richard, inspired by the defence Blake had begun, took the same line ofargument. "I admit that in the heat of wine I may have used such words,"said he. "But I deny their intent to be treasonable. There are many menwho drink to the prosperity of the late Kings's son..."

  "Natural son, sir; natural son," Albemarle amended. "It is treason tospeak of him otherwise."

  "It will be a treason presently to draw breath," sneered Blake.

  "If it be," said Trenchard, "it is a treason you'll not be longcommitting."

  "Faith, you are right, Mr. Trenchard," said the Duke with a laugh.Indeed, he found Mr. Trenchard a most pleasant and facetious gentleman.

  "Still," insisted Richard, endeavouring in spite of these irrelevanciesto make good his point, "there be many men who drink daily to theprosperity of the late King's natural son."

  "Aye, sir," answered Albemarle; "but not his prosperity in horrid plotsagainst the life of our beloved sovereign."

  "True, Your Grace; very true," purred Sir Edward. "It was not so I meantto toast him," cried Richard. Albemarle made an impatient gesture,and took up a sheet of paper. "How, then," he asked, "comes thisletter--this letter which makes plain the treason upon which the Dukeof Monmouth is embarked, just as it makes plain your participation init--how comes this letter to be found in your possession?" And he wavedthe letter in the air.

  Richard went the colour of ashes. He faltered a moment, then took refugein the truth, for all that he knew beforehand that the truth was boundto ring more false than any lie he could invent.

  "That letter was not addressed to me," he stammered.

  Albemarle read the subscription, "To my good friend W., at Bridgwater."He looked up, a heavy sneer thrusting his heavy lip still further out."What do you say to that? Does not 'W' stand for Westmacott?"

  "It does not."

  "Of course not," said Albemarle with heavy sarcasm. "It stands forWilkins, or Williams, or... or... What-not."

  "Indeed, I can bear witness that it does not," exclaimed Sir Rowland.

  "Be silent, sir, I tell you!" bawled the Duke at him again. "You shallbear witness soon enough, I promise you. To whom, then," he resumed,turning again to Richard, "do you say that this letter was addressed?"

  "To Mr. Wilding--Mr. Anthony Wilding," Richard answered.

  "I would have Your Grace to observe," put in Trench ard quietly, "thatMr. Wilding, properly speaking, does not reside in Bridgwater."

  "Tush!" cried Albemarle; "the rogue but mentions the first name with a'W' that occurs to him. He's not even an ingenious liar. And how, sir,"he asked Richard, "does it come to be in your possession, having beenaddressed, as you say, to Mr. Wilding?"

  "Aye, sir," said Sir Edward, blinking his weak eyes. "Tell us that."

  Richard hesitated again, and looked at Blake. Blake, who by now hadcome to realize that his friend's affairs were not mended by hisinterruptions, moodily shrugged his shoulders, scowling.

  "Come, sir," said Colonel Luttrell, engagingly, "answer the question."

  "Aye," roared Albemarle; "let your invention have free rein."

  Again poor Richard sought refuge in the truth. "We--Sir Rowland here andI--had reason to suspect that he was awaiting such a letter."

  "Tell us your reasons, sir, if we are to credit you," said the Duke, andit was plain he mocked the prisoner. It was, moreover, a request thatstaggered Richard. Still, he sought to find a reason that should soundplausible.

  "We inferred it from certain remarks that Mr. Wilding let fall in ourpresence."

  "Tell us the remarks, sir," the Duke insisted.

  "Indeed, I do not call his precise words to mind, Your Grace. But theywere such that we suspicioned him."

  "And you would have me believe that hearing words which awoke in yousuch grave suspicions, you kept your suspicions and straightway forgotthe words. You're but an indifferent liar."

  Trenchard, who was standing by the long table, leaned forward now.

  "It might be well, an it please Your Grace," said he, "to waive thepoint, and let us come to those matters which are of greater moment. Lethim tell Your Grace how he came by the letter."

  "Aye," said Albemarle. "We do but waste time. Tell us, then, how camethe letter into your hands?"

  "With Sir Rowland, here, I robbed the courier as he was riding fromTaunton to Bridgwater."

  Albemarle laughed, and Sir Edward smiled. "You robbed him, eh?" said HisGrace. "Very well. But how did it happen that you knew he had the letterupon him, or was it that you were playing the hightobymen, and that inrobbing him you hoped to find other matters?"

  "Not so, sir," answered Richard. "I sought but the letter."

  "And how knew you that he carried it? Did you learn that, too, from Mr.Wilding's indiscretion?"

  "Your Grace has said it."

  "'Slife! What an impudent rogue have we here!" cried the angry Duke,who conceived that Richard was purposely dealing in effrontery. "Mr.Trenchard, I do think we are wasting time. Be so good as to confoundthem both with the truth of this matter."

  "That letter," said Trenchard, "was delivered to them at the Hare andHounds, here at Taunton, by a gentleman who put up at the inn, and wasthere joined by Mr. Westmacott and Sir Rowland Blake. They openedthe conversation with certain cant phrases very clearly intended aspasswords. Thus: the prisoners said to the messenger, as they seatedthemselves at the table he occupied, 'You have the air, sir, of beingfrom overseas,' to which the courier answered, 'Indeed, yes. I am fromHolland. 'From the land of Orange,' says one of the prisoners. 'Aye, andother things,' replies the messenger. 'There is a fair wind blowing,' headds; to which one of the prisoners, I believe it was Sir Rowland, makesanswer, 'Mayit prosper the Protestant Duke and blow Popery to hell.'Thereupon the landlord caught some mention of a letter, but theseplotters, perceiving that they were perhaps being overheard, sent himaway to fetch them wine. A half-hour later the messenger took his leave,and the prisoners followed a very few minutes afterwards."

  Albemarle turned to the prisoners. "You have heard Mr. Trenchard'sstory. How do you say--is it true or untrue?"

  "You will waste breath in denying it," Trenchard took it again uponhimself to admonish them. "For I have with me the landlord of the Hareand Hounds, who will corroborate, upon oath, what I have said."

  "We do not deny it," put in Blake. "But we submit that the matter issusceptible to explanation."

  "You can keep your explanations till your trial, then," snappedAlbemarle. "I have heard more than enough to commit the pair of you togaol."

  "But, Your Grace," cried Sir Rowland, so fiercely that one of thetything-men set a restraining hand upon his shoulder, "I am ready toswear that what I did, and what my friend Mr. Westmacott did, was donein the interests of His Majesty. We were working to discover this plot."

  "Which, no doubt," put in Trenchard slyly, "is the reason why, havinggot the letter, your friend Mr. Westmacott locked it in a desk, and youkept silence on the matter."

  "You see," exclaimed Albemarle, "how your lies do but s
erve further tobind you in the toils. It is ever thus with traitors."

  "I do think you are a damned traitor, Trenchard," began Blake; "afoul..."

  But what more he would have said was checked by Albemarle, who thunderedforth an order for their removal, and then, scarce were the wordsuttered than the door at the far end of the hall was opened, and throughit came a sound of women's voices. Richard started, for one was thevoice of Ruth.

  An usher advanced. "May it please Your Grace, there are two ladies herebeg that you will hear their evidence in the matter of Mr. Westmacottand Sir Rowland Blake."

  Albemarle considered a moment. Trenchard stood very thoughtful.

  "Indeed," said the Duke, at last, "I have heard as much as I need hear,"and Sir Phelips nodded in token of concurrence.

  Not so, however, Colonel Luttrell. "Still," said he, "in the interestsof His Majesty, perhaps, we should be doing well to receive them."

  Albemarle blew out his cheeks like a man wearied, and stared an instantat Luttrell. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

  "Admit them, then," he commanded almost peevishly, and Ruth and Dianawere ushered into the hall. Both were pale, but whilst Diana wasfluttered with excitement, Ruth was calm and cool, and it was she whospoke in answer to the Duke's invitation. The burden of her speech wasa clear, succinct recitation--in which she spared neither Wildingnor herself--of how the letter came to have remained in her hands andsilence to have been preserved regarding it. Albemarle heard her verypatiently.

  "If what you say is true, mistress," said he, "and God forbid thatI should be so ungallant as to throw doubt upon a lady's word, itcertainly explains--although most strangely--how the letter was notbrought to us at once by your brother and his friend Sir Rowland. Youare prepared to swear that this letter was intended for Mr. Wilding?"

  "I am prepared to swear it," she replied.

  "This is very serious," said the Duke.

  "Very serious," assented Sir Edward Phelips.

  Albemarle, a little flustered, turned to his colleagues. "What do yousay to this? Were it perhaps well to order Mr. Wilding's apprehension,and to have him brought hither?"

  "It were to give yourselves useless trouble, gentlemen," said Trenchard,with so much assurance that it was plain Albemarle hesitated.

  "Beware of Mr. Trenchard, Your Grace," cried Ruth. "He is Mr. Wilding'sfriend, and if there is a plot he is sure to be in it."

  Albemarle, startled, looked at Trenchard. Had the accusation come fromeither of the men the Duke would have silenced him and abused him;but coming from a woman, and so comely a woman, it seemed to His Graceworthy at least of consideration. But nimble Mr. Trenchard was easilymaster of the situation.

  "Which, of course," he answered, with fine sarcasm, "is the reason whyI have been at work for the past four-and-twenty hours to lay proofs ofthis plot before Your Grace."

  Albemarle was ashamed of his momentary hesitation.

  "For the rest," said Trenchard, "it is perfectly true that I am Mr.Wilding's friend. But the lady is even more intimately connected withhim. It happens that she is his wife."

  "His... his wife!" gasped the Duke, whilst Phelips chuckled, and ColonelLuttrell's face grew dark.

  Trenchard's wicked smile flickered upon his mobile features. "There arerumours current of court paid her by Sir Rowland, there. Who knows?" hequestioned most suggestively, arching his brows and tightening his lips."Wives are strange kittle-kattle, and husbands have been known before togrow inconvenient. Upon reflection, Your Grace will no doubt discern theprecise degree of faith to attach to what this lady may tell you againstMr. Wilding."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Ruth, her cheeks flaming crimson. "But this ismonstrous!"

  "Tis how I should myself describe it," answered Trenchard without shame.

  Spurred to it thus, Ruth poured out the entire story of her marriage,and so clear and lucid was her statement that it threw upon the affair aflood of light, whilst so frank and truthful was her tone, her narrativehung so well together, that the Bench began to recover from the shock toits faith, and was again in danger of believing her. Trenchard saw thisand trembled. To save Wilding for the Cause he had resorted to thisdesperate expedient of betraying that Cause. It must be observed,however, that he had not done so save under the conviction that betrayedit was bound to be, and that since that was inevitable the thing hadbetter come from him--for Wilding's sake--than from Richard Westmacott.He had taken the bull by the horns in a most desperate fashion when hehad determined to hoist Richard and Blake with their own petard, hopingthat, after all, the harm would reach no further than the destruction ofthese two--a purely defensive measure. But now this girl threatenedto wreck his scheme just as it was being safely steered to harbour.Suddenly he swung round, interrupting her.

  "Lies, lies, lies!" he clamoured, and his interruption coming at such atime served to impress the Duke most unfavourably--as well it might.

  "It is our wish to hear this lady out, Mr. Trenchard," the Duke reprovedhim.

  But Mr. Trenchard was undismayed. Indeed, he had just discovered ahitherto neglected card, which should put an end to this dangerous game.

  "I do abhor to hear Your Grace's patience thus abused," he exclaimedwith some show of heat. "This lady makes a mock of you. If you'll allowme to ask two questions--or perhaps three--I'll promise finally to prickthis bubble for you. Have I Your Grace's leave?"

  "Well, well," said Albemarle. "Let us hear your questions." And hiscolleagues nodded.

  Trenchard turned airily to Ruth. Behind her Diana sat--an attendant hadfetched a chair for her--in fear and wonder at what she saw and heard,her eyes ever and anon straying to Sir Rowland's back, which was towardsher.

  "This letter, madam," said he, "for the possession of which you haveaccounted in so... so... picturesque a manner, was intended for andaddressed to Mr. Wilding, you say. And you are prepared to swear to it?"

  Ruth turned indignantly to the Bench. "Must I answer this man'squestions?" she demanded.

  "I think, perhaps, it were best you did," said the Duke, still showingher all deference.

  She turned to Trenchard, her head high, her eyes full upon his wrinkled,cynical face. "I swear, then..." she began, but he--consummate actorthat he was and versed in tricks that impress an audience--interruptedher, raising one of his gnarled, yellow hands.

  "Nay, nay," said he. "I would not have perjury proved against you. I donot ask you to swear. It will be sufficient if you pronounce yourselfprepared to swear."

  She pouted her lip a trifle, her whole expression manifesting hercontempt of him. "I am in no fear of perjuring myself," she answeredfearlessly. "And I swear that the letter in question was addressed toMr. Wilding."

  "As you will," said Trenchard, and was careful not to ask her how shecame by her knowledge. "The letter, no doubt, was in an outer wrapper,on which there would be a superscription--the name of the person to whomthe letter was addressed?" he half questioned, and Luttrell, who saw thedrift of the question, nodded gravely.

  "No doubt," said Ruth.

  "Now you will acknowledge, I am sure, madam, that such a wrapper wouldbe a document of the greatest importance, as important, indeed, as theletter itself, since we could depend upon it finally to clear up thispoint on which we differ. You will admit so much, I think?"

  "Why, yes," she answered, but her voice faltered a little, and herglance was not quite so fearless. She, too, saw at last the pit he haddug for her. He leaned forward, smiling quietly, his voice impressivelysubdued, and launched the bolt that was to annihilate the credibility ofthe story she had told.

  "Can you, then, explain how it comes that that wrapper has beensuppressed? Can you tell us how--the matter being as you state it--invery self-defence against the dangers of keeping such a letter, yourbrother did not also keep that wrapper?"

  Her eyes fell away from his face, they turned to Albemarle, who satscowling again, and from him they flickered unsteadily to Phelips andLuttrell, and lastly, to Richard, who, very white and with set teeth,stood
listening to the working of his ruin.

  "I... I do not know," she faltered at last.

  "Ah!" said Trenchard, drawing a deep breath. He turned to the Bench."Need I suggest what was the need--the urgent need--for suppressing thatwrapper?" quoth he. "Need I say what name was inscribed upon it? I thinknot. Your Grace's keen insight, and yours, gentlemen, will determinewhat was probable."

  Sir Rowland now stood forward, addressing Albemarle. "Will Your Gracepermit me to offer my explanation of this?"

  Albemarle banged the table. His patience was at an end, since he camenow to believe--as Trenchard had earlier suggested--that he had beenplayed upon by Ruth.

  "Too many explanations have I heard already, sir," he answered. Heturned to one of his secretaries. In his sudden excess of choler heforgot his colleagues altogether. "The prisoners are committed fortrial," said he harshly, and Trenchard breathed freely at last. But thenext instant he caught his breath again, for a ringing voice was heardwithout demanding to see His Grace of Albemarle at once, and the voicewas the voice of Anthony Wilding.