by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXXI
I fear the devil worst when gown and cassock, Or, in the lack of them, old Calvin's cloak, Conceals his cloven hoof. --ANONYMOUS.
Julian Peveril had scarce set sail for Whitehaven, when AliceBridgenorth and her governante, at the hasty command of her father,were embarked with equal speed and secrecy on board of a bark bound forLiverpool. Christian accompanied them on their voyage, as the friendto whose guardianship Alice was to be consigned during any futureseparation from her father, and whose amusing conversation, joined tohis pleasing though cold manners, as well as his near relationship,induced Alice, in her forlorn situation, to consider her fate asfortunate in having such a guardian.
At Liverpool, as the reader already knows, Christian took the firstovert step in the villainy which he had contrived against the innocentgirl, by exposing her at a meeting-house to the unhallowed gaze ofChiffinch, in order to convince him she was possessed of such uncommonbeauty as might well deserve the infamous promotion to which theymeditated to raise her.
Highly satisfied with her personal appearance, Chiffinch was no lessso with the sense and delicacy of her conversation, when he met her incompany with her uncle afterwards in London. The simplicity, and atthe same time the spirit of her remarks, made him regard her as hisscientific attendant the cook might have done a newly invented sauce,sufficiently _piquante_ in its qualities to awaken the jaded appetiteof a cloyed and gorged epicure. She was, he said and swore, the verycorner-stone on which, with proper management, and with his instruction,a few honest fellows might build a Court fortune.
That the necessary introduction might take place, the confederatesjudged fit she should be put under the charge of an experiencedlady, whom some called Mistress Chiffinch, and others Chiffinch'smistress--one of those obliging creatures who are willing to dischargeall the duties of a wife, without the inconvenient and indissolubleceremony.
It was one, and not perhaps the least prejudicial consequence of thelicense of that ill-governed time, that the bounds betwixt virtue andvice were so far smoothed down and levelled, that the frail wife, or thetender friend who was no wife, did not necessarily lose their place insociety; but, on the contrary, if they moved in the higher circles, werepermitted and encouraged to mingle with women whose rank was certain,and whose reputation was untainted.
A regular _liaison_, like that of Chiffinch and his fair one, inferredlittle scandal; and such was his influence, as prime minister of hismaster's pleasures, that, as Charles himself expressed it, the lady whomwe introduced to our readers in the last chapter, had obtained abrevet commission to rank as a married woman. And to do the gentle damejustice, no wife could have been more attentive to forward his plans, ormore liberal in disposing of his income.
She inhabited a set of apartments called Chiffinch's--the scene of manyan intrigue, both of love and politics; and where Charles often heldhis private parties for the evening, when, as frequently happened, theill-humour of the Duchess of Portsmouth, his reigning Sultana, preventedhis supping with her. The hold which such an arrangement gave a manlike Chiffinch, used as he well knew how to use it, made him of toomuch consequence to be slighted even by the first persons in the state,unless they stood aloof from all manner of politics and Court intrigue.
In the charge of Mistress Chiffinch, and of him whose name she bore,Edward Christian placed the daughter of his sister, and of his confidingfriend, calmly contemplating her ruin as an event certain to follow; andhoping to ground upon it his own chance of a more assured fortune, thana life spent in intrigue had hitherto been able to procure for him.
The innocent Alice, without being able to discover what was wrong eitherin the scenes of unusual luxury with which she was surrounded, or in themanners of her hostess, which, both from nature and policy, were kindand caressing--felt nevertheless an instinctive apprehension that allwas not right--a feeling in the human mind, allied, perhaps, to thatsense of danger which animals exhibit when placed in the vicinity of thenatural enemies of their race, and which makes birds cower when thehawk is in the air, and beasts tremble when the tiger is abroad in thedesert. There was a heaviness at her heart which she could not dispel;and the few hours which she had already spent at Chiffinch's were likethose passed in prison by one unconscious of the cause or event of hiscaptivity. It was the third morning after her arrival in London, thatthe scene took place which we now recur to.
The impertinence and vulgarity of Empson, which was permitted to him asan unrivalled performer upon his instrument, were exhausting themselvesat the expense of all other musical professors, and Mrs. Chiffinch waslistening with careless indifference, when some one was heard speakingloudly, and with animation, in the inner apartment.
"Oh, gemini and gilliflower water!" exclaimed the damsel, startled outof her fine airs into her natural vulgarity of exclamation, and runningto the door of communication--"if he has not come back again afterall!--and if old Rowley----"
A tap at the farther and opposite door here arrested her attention--shequitted the handle of that which she was about to open as speedily asif it had burnt her fingers, and, moving back towards her couch, asked,"Who is there?"
"Old Rowley himself, madam," said the King, entering the apartment withhis usual air of easy composure.
"O crimini!--your Majesty!--I thought----"
"That I was out of hearing, doubtless," said the King; "and spoke of meas folk speak of absent friends. Make no apology. I think I have heardladies say of their lace, that a rent is better than a darn.--Nay, beseated.--Where is Chiffinch?"
"He is down at York House, your Majesty," said the dame, recovering,though with no small difficulty, the calm affectation of her usualdemeanour. "Shall I send your Majesty's commands?"
"I will wait his return," said the King.--"Permit me to taste yourchocolate."
"There is some fresh frothed in the office," said the lady; and using alittle silver call, or whistle, a black boy, superbly dressed, like anOriental page, with gold bracelets on his naked arms, and a gold collararound his equally bare neck, attended with the favourite beverage ofthe morning, in an apparatus of the richest china.
While he sipped his cup of chocolate, the King looked round theapartment, and observing Fenella, Peveril, and the musician, whoremained standing beside a large Indian screen, he continued, addressingMistress Chiffinch, though with polite indifference, "I sent you thefiddles this morning--or rather the flute--Empson, and a fairy elf whomI met in the Park, who dances divinely. She has brought us the verynewest saraband from the Court of Queen Mab, and I sent her here, thatyou may see it at leisure."
"Your Majesty does me by far too much honour," said Chiffinch, her eyesproperly cast down, and her accents minced into becoming humility.
"Nay, little Chiffinch," answered the King, in a tone of as contemptuousfamiliarity as was consistent with his good-breeding, "it was notaltogether for thine own private ear, though quite deserving of allsweet sounds; but I thought Nelly had been with thee this morning."
"I can send Bajazet for her, your Majesty," answered the lady.
"Nay, I will not trouble your little heathen sultan to go so far. Stillit strikes me that Chiffinch said you had company--some country cousin,or such a matter--Is there not such a person?"
"There is a young person from the country," said Mistress Chiffinch,striving to conceal a considerable portion of embarrassment; "but sheis unprepared for such an honour as to be admitted into your Majesty'spresence, and----"
"And therefore the fitter to receive it, Chiffinch. There is nothing innature so beautiful as the first blush of a little rustic between joyand fear, and wonder and curiosity. It is the down on the peach--pityit decays so soon!--the fruit remains, but the first high colouringand exquisite flavour are gone.--Never put up thy lip for the matter,Chiffinch, for it is as I tell you; so pray let us have _la bellecousine_."
Mistress Chiffinch, more embarrassed than ever, again advanced towardsthe do
or of communication, which she had been in the act of opening whenhis Majesty entered. But just as she coughed pretty loudly, perhaps asa signal to some one within, voices were again heard in a raised toneof altercation----the door was flung open, and Alice rushed out of theinner apartment, followed to the door of it by the enterprising Duke ofBuckingham, who stood fixed with astonishment on finding his pursuit ofthe flying fair one had hurried him into the presence of the King.
Alice Bridgenorth appeared too much transported with anger to permit herto pay attention to the rank or character of the company into which shehad thus suddenly entered. "I remain no longer here, madam," she saidto Mrs. Chiffinch, in a tone of uncontrollable resolution; "I leaveinstantly a house where I am exposed to company which I detest, and tosolicitations which I despise."
The dismayed Mrs. Chiffinch could only implore her, in broken whispers,to be silent; adding, while she pointed to Charles, who stood with hiseyes fixed rather on his audacious courtier than on the game which hepursued, "The King--the King!"
"If I am in the King's presence," said Alice aloud, and in the sametorrent of passionate feeling, while her eye sparkled through tears ofresentment and insulted modesty, "it is the better--it is his Majesty'sduty to protect me; and on his protection I throw myself."
These words, which were spoken aloud, and boldly, at once recalledJulian to himself, who had hitherto stood, as it were, bewildered. Heapproached Alice, and, whispering in her ear that she had beside herone who would defend her with his life, implored her to trust to hisguardianship in this emergency.
Clinging to his arm in all the ecstasy of gratitude and joy, the spiritwhich had so lately invigorated Alice in her own defence, gave way in aflood of tears, when she saw herself supported by him whom perhaps shemost wished to recognise as her protector. She permitted Peveril gentlyto draw her back towards the screen before which he had been standing;where, holding by his arm, but at the same time endeavouring to concealherself behind him, they waited the conclusion of a scene so singular.
The King seemed at first so much surprised at the unexpected apparitionof the Duke of Buckingham, as to pay little or no attention to Alice,who had been the means of thus unceremoniously introducing his Graceinto the presence at a most unsuitable moment. In that intriguing Court,it had not been the first time that the Duke had ventured to enter thelists of gallantry in rivalry of his Sovereign, which made the presentinsult the more intolerable. His purpose of lying concealed in thoseprivate apartments was explained by the exclamations of Alice; andCharles, notwithstanding the placidity of his disposition, and hishabitual guard over his passions, resented the attempt to seduce hisdestined mistress, as an Eastern Sultan would have done the insolenceof a vizier, who anticipated his intended purchases of captive beautyin the slave-market. The swarthy features of Charles reddened, and thestrong lines on his dark visage seemed to become inflated, as he said,in a voice which faltered with passion, "Buckingham, you dared not havethus insulted your equal! To your master you may securely offer anyaffront, since his rank glues his sword to the scabbard."
The haughty Duke did not brook this taunt unanswered. "My sword," hesaid, with emphasis, "was never in the scabbard, when your Majesty'sservice required it should be unsheathed."
"Your Grace means, when its service was required for its master'sinterest," said the King; "for you could only gain the coronet of a Dukeby fighting for the royal crown. But it is over--I have treated you as afriend--a companion--almost an equal--you have repaid me with insolenceand ingratitude."
"Sire," answered the Duke firmly, but respectfully, "I am unhappy inyour displeasure; yet thus far fortunate, that while your words canconfer honour, they cannot impair or take it away.--It is hard," headded, lowering his voice, so as only to be heard by the King,--"It ishard that the squall of a peevish wench should cancel the services of somany years!"
"It is harder," said the King, in the same subdued tone, which bothpreserved through the rest of the conversation, "that a wench's brighteyes can make a nobleman forget the decencies due to his Sovereign'sprivacy."
"May I presume to ask your Majesty what decencies are those?" said theDuke.
Charles bit his lip to keep himself from smiling. "Buckingham," he said,"this is a foolish business; and we must not forget (as we have nearlydone), that we have an audience to witness this scene, and should walkthe stage with dignity. I will show you your fault in private."
"It is enough that your Majesty has been displeased, and that I haveunhappily been the occasion," said the Duke, kneeling; "although quiteignorant of any purpose beyond a few words of gallantry; and I sue thuslow for your Majesty's pardon."
So saying, he kneeled gracefully down. "Thou hast it, George," said theplacable Prince. "I believe thou wilt be sooner tired of offending thanI of forgiving."
"Long may your Majesty live to give the offence, with which it is yourroyal pleasure at present to charge my innocence," said the Duke.
"What mean you by that, my lord?" said Charles, the angry shadereturning to his brow for a moment.
"My Liege," replied the Duke, "you are too honourable to deny yourcustom of shooting with Cupid's bird-bolts in other men's warrens. Youhave ta'en the royal right of free-forestry over every man's park. Itis hard that you should be so much displeased at hearing a chance arrowwhizz near your own pales."
"No more on't," said the King; "but let us see where the dove hasharboured."
"The Helen has found a Paris while we were quarrelling," replied theDuke.
"Rather an Orpheus," said the King; "and what is worse, one that isalready provided with a Eurydice--She is clinging to the fiddler."
"It is mere fright," said Buckingham, "like Rochester's, when he creptinto the bass-viol to hide himself from Sir Dermot O'Cleaver."
"We must make the people show their talents," said the King, "and stoptheir mouths with money and civility, or we shall have this foolishencounter over half the town."
The King then approached Julian, and desired him to take his instrument,and cause his female companion to perform a saraband.
"I had already the honour to inform your Majesty," said Julian, "that Icannot contribute to your pleasure in the way you command me; and thatthis young person is----"
"A retainer of the Lady Powis," said the King, upon whose mind thingsnot connected with his pleasures made a very slight impression. "Poorlady, she is in trouble about the lords in the Tower."
"Pardon me, sir," said Julian, "she is a dependant of the Countess ofDerby."
"True, true," answered Charles; "it is indeed of Lady Derby, who hathalso her own distresses in these times. Do you know who taught theyoung person to dance? Some of her steps mightily resemble Le Jeune's ofParis."
"I presume she was taught abroad, sir," said Julian; "for myself, Iam charged with some weighty business by the Countess, which I wouldwillingly communicate to your Majesty."
"We will send you to our Secretary of State," said the King. "But thisdancing envoy will oblige us once more, will she not?--Empson, now thatI remember, it was to your pipe that she danced--Strike up, man, and putmettle into her feet."
Empson began to play a well-known measure; and, as he had threatened,made more than one false note, until the King, whose ear was veryaccurate, rebuked him with, "Sirrah, art thou drunk at this early hour,or must thou too be playing thy slippery tricks with me? Thou thinkestthou art born to beat time, but I will have time beat into thee."
The hint was sufficient, and Empson took good care so to perform his airas to merit his high and deserved reputation. But on Fenella it made notthe slightest impression. She rather leant than stood against the wallof the apartment; her countenance as pale as death, her arms and handshanging down as if stiffened, and her existence only testified by thesobs which agitated her bosom, and the tears which flowed from herhalf-closed eyes.
"A plague on it," said the King, "some evil spirit is abroad thismorning; and the wenches are all bewitched, I think. Cheer up, my girl.What, in the devil's name, has
changed thee at once from a Nymph to aNiobe? If thou standest there longer thou wilt grow to the very marblewall--Or--oddsfish, George, have you been bird-bolting in this quarteralso?"
Ere Buckingham could answer to this charge, Julian again kneeled downto the King, and prayed to be heard, were it only for five minutes. "Theyoung woman," he said, "had been long in attendance of the Countess ofDerby. She was bereaved of the faculties of speech and hearing."
"Oddsfish, man, and dances so well?" said the King. "Nay, all GreshamCollege shall never make me believe that."
"I would have thought it equally impossible, but for what I to-daywitnessed," said Julian; "but only permit me, sir, to deliver thepetition of my lady the Countess."
"And who art thou thyself, man?" said the Sovereign; "for thougheverything which wears bodice and breast-knot has a right to speak toa King, and be answered, I know not that they have a title to audiencethrough an envoy extraordinary."
"I am Julian Peveril of Derbyshire," answered the supplicant, "the sonof Sir Geoffrey Peveril of Martindale Castle, who----"
"Body of me--the old Worcester man?" said the King. "Oddsfish, Iremember him well--some harm has happened to him, I think--Is he notdead, or very sick at least?"
"Ill at ease, and it please your Majesty, but not ill in health. He hasbeen imprisoned on account of an alleged accession to this Plot."
"Look you there," said the King; "I knew he was in trouble; and yet howto help the stout old Knight, I can hardly tell. I can scarce escapesuspicion of the Plot myself, though the principal object of it isto take away my own life. Were I to stir to save a plotter, I shouldcertainly be brought in as an accessory.--Buckingham, thou hast someinterest with those who built this fine state engine, or at least whohave driven it on--be good-natured for once, though it is scarcely thywont, and interfere to shelter our old Worcester friend, Sir Godfrey.You have not forgot him?"
"No, sir," answered the Duke; "for I never heard the name."
"It is Sir Geoffrey his Majesty would say," said Julian.
"And if his Majesty _did_ say Sir Geoffrey, Master Peveril, I cannot seeof what use I can be to your father," replied the Duke coldly. "He isaccused of a heavy crime; and a British subject so accused, can haveno shelter either from prince or peer, but must stand to the award anddeliverance of God and his country."
"Now, Heaven forgive thee thy hypocrisy, George," said the Kinghastily. "I would rather hear the devil preach religion than thee teachpatriotism. Thou knowest as well as I, that the nation is in a scarletfever for fear of the poor Catholics, who are not two men to fivehundred; and that the public mind is so harassed with new narrations ofconspiracy, and fresh horrors every day, that people have as little realsense of what is just or unjust as men who talk in their sleep of whatis sense or nonsense. I have borne, and borne with it--I have seen bloodflow on the scaffold, fearing to thwart the nation in its fury--and Ipray to God that I or mine be not called on to answer for it. I will nolonger swim with the torrent, which honour and conscience call upon meto stem--I will act the part of a Sovereign, and save my people fromdoing injustice, even in their own despite."
Charles walked hastily up and down the room as he expressed theseunwonted sentiments, with energy equally unwonted. After a momentarypause, the Duke answered him gravely, "Spoken like a Royal King, sir,but--pardon me--not like a King of England."
Charles paused, as the Duke spoke, beside a window which looked full onWhitehall, and his eye was involuntarily attracted by the fatal windowof the Banqueting House out of which his unhappy father was conducted toexecution. Charles was naturally, or, more purposely, constitutionallybrave; but a life of pleasure, together with the habit of governing hiscourse rather by what was expedient than by what was right, rendered himunapt to dare the same scene of danger or of martyrdom, which had closedhis father's life and reign; and the thought came over his half-formedresolution, like the rain upon a kindling beacon. In another man, hisperplexity would have seemed almost ludicrous; but Charles would notlose, even under these circumstances, the dignity and grace, which wereas natural to him as his indifference and good humour. "Our Council mustdecide in this matter," he said, looking to the Duke; "and be assured,young man," he added, addressing Julian, "your father shall not want anintercessor in his King, so far as the laws will permit my interferencein his behalf."
Julian was about to retire, when Fenella, with a marked look, putinto his hand a slip of paper, on which she had hastily written, "Thepacket--give him the packet."
After a moment's hesitation, during which he reflected that Fenella wasthe organ of the Countess's pleasure, Julian resolved to obey. "Permitme, then, Sire," he said, "to place in your royal hands this packet,entrusted to me by the Countess of Derby. The letters have already beenonce taken from me; and I have little hope that I can now deliver themas they are addressed. I place them, therefore, in your royal hands,certain that they will evince the innocence of the writer."
The King shook his head as he took the packet reluctantly. "It is nosafe office you have undertaken, young man. A messenger has sometimeshis throat cut for the sake of his despatches--But give them to me; and,Chiffinch, give me wax and a taper." He employed himself in folding theCountess's packet in another envelope. "Buckingham," he said, "you areevidence that I do not read them till the Council shall see them."
Buckingham approached, and offered his services in folding the parcel,but Charles rejected his assistance; and having finished his task, hesealed the packet with his own signet-ring. The Duke bit his lip andretired.
"And now, young man," said the King, "your errand is sped, so far as itcan at present be forwarded."
Julian bowed deeply, as to take leave at these words, which he rightlyinterpreted as a signal for his departure. Alice Bridgenorth stillclung to his arm, and motioned to withdraw along with him. The King andBuckingham looked at each other in conscious astonishment, and yet notwithout a desire to smile, so strange did it seem to them that a prize,for which, an instant before, they had been mutually contending, shouldthus glide out of their grasp, or rather be borne off by a third andvery inferior competitor.
"Mistress Chiffinch," said the King, with a hesitation which he couldnot disguise, "I hope your fair charge is not about to leave you?"
"Certainly not, your Majesty," answered Chiffinch. "Alice, my love--youmistake--that opposite door leads to your apartments."
"Pardon me, madam," answered Alice; "I have indeed mistaken my road, butit was when I came hither."
"The errant damosel," said Buckingham, looking at Charles with as muchintelligence as etiquette permitted him to throw into his eye, andthen turning it towards Alice, as she still held by Julian's arm,"is resolved not to mistake her road a second time. She has chosen asufficient guide."
"And yet stories tell that such guides have led maidens astray," saidthe King.
Alice blushed deeply, but instantly recovered her composure so soonas she saw that her liberty was likely to depend upon the immediateexercise of resolution. She quitted, from a sense of insulted delicacy,the arm of Julian, to which she had hitherto clung; but as she spoke,she continued to retain a slight grasp of his cloak. "I have indeedmistaken my way," she repeated still addressing Mrs. Chiffinch, "butit was when I crossed this threshold. The usage to which I have beenexposed in your house has determined me to quit it instantly."
"I will not permit that, my young mistress," answered Mrs. Chiffinch,"until your uncle, who placed you under my care, shall relieve me of thecharge of you."
"I will answer for my conduct, both to my uncle, and, what is of moreimportance, to my father," said Alice. "You must permit me to depart,madam; I am free-born, and you have no right to detain me."
"Pardon me, my young madam," said Mistress Chiffinch, "I have a right,and I will maintain it too."
"I will know that before quitting this presence," said Alice firmly;and, advancing a step or two, she dropped on her knee before the King."Your Majesty," said she, "if indeed I kneel before King Charles, is the
father of your subjects."
"Of a good many of them," said the Duke of Buckingham apart.
"I demand protection of you, in the name of God, and of the oath yourMajesty swore when you placed on your head the crown of this kingdom!"
"You have my protection," said the King, a little confused by an appealso unexpected and so solemn. "Do but remain quiet with this lady, withwhom your parents have placed you; neither Buckingham nor any one elseshall intrude on you."
"His Majesty," added Buckingham, in the same tone, and speaking fromthe restless and mischief-making spirit of contradiction, which he nevercould restrain, even when indulging it was most contrary, not only topropriety, but to his own interest,--"His Majesty will protect you, fairlady, from all intrusion save what must not be termed such."
Alice darted a keen look on the Duke, as if to read his meaning; anotheron Charles, to know whether she had guessed it rightly. There wasa guilty confession on the King's brow, which confirmed Alice'sdetermination to depart. "Your Majesty will forgive me," she said; "itis not here that I can enjoy the advantage of your royal protection.I am resolved to leave this house. If I am detained, it must be byviolence, which I trust no one dare offer to me in your Majesty'spresence. This gentleman, whom I have long known, will conduct me to myfriends."
"We make but an indifferent figure in this scene, methinks," said theKing, addressing the Duke of Buckingham, and speaking in a whisper; "butshe must go--I neither will, nor dare, stop her from returning to herfather."
"And if she does," swore the Duke internally, "I would, as Sir AndrewSmith saith, I might never touch fair lady's hand." And stepping back,he spoke a few words with Empson the musician, who left the apartment,for a few minutes, and presently returned.
The King seemed irresolute concerning the part he should act undercircumstances so peculiar. To be foiled in a gallant intrigue, was tosubject himself to the ridicule of his gay court; to persist in it byany means which approached to constraint, would have been tyrannical;and, what perhaps he might judge as severe an imputation, it would havebeen unbecoming a gentleman. "Upon my honour, young lady," he said,with an emphasis, "you have nothing to fear in this house. But it isimproper, for your own sake, that you should leave it in this abruptmanner. If you will have the goodness to wait but a quarter of an hour,Mistress Chiffinch's coach will be placed at your command, to transportyou where you will. Spare yourself the ridicule, and me the painof seeing you leave the house of one of my servants, as if you wereescaping from a prison."
The King spoke in good-natured sincerity, and Alice was inclined for aninstant to listen to his advice; but recollecting that she had to searchfor her father and uncle, or, failing them, for some suitable place ofsecure residence, it rushed on her mind that the attendants of MistressChiffinch were not likely to prove trusty guides or assistants in sucha purpose. Firmly and respectfully she announced her purpose ofinstant departure. She needed no other escort, she said, than what thisgentleman, Master Julian Peveril, who was well known to her father,would willingly afford her; nor did she need that farther than until shehad reached her father's residence.
"Farewell, then, lady, a God's name!" said the King; "I am sorry so muchbeauty should be wedded to so many shrewish suspicions.--For you,Master Peveril, I should have thought you had enough to do with your ownaffairs without interfering with the humours of the fair sex. The dutyof conducting all strayed damsels into the right path is, as matters goin this good city, rather too weighty an undertaking for your youth andinexperience."
Julian, eager to conduct Alice from a place of which he began fullyto appreciate the perils, answered nothing to this taunt, but bowingreverently, led her from the apartment. Her sudden appearance, and theanimated scene which followed, had entirely absorbed, for the moment,the recollection of his father and of the Countess of Derby; and whilethe dumb attendant of the latter remained in the room, a silent, and, asit were, stunned spectator of all that had happened, Peveril had become,in the predominating interest of Alice's critical situation, totallyforgetful of her presence. But no sooner had he left the room, withoutnoticing or attending to her, than Fenella, starting, as from a trance,drew herself up, and looked wildly around, like one waking from a dream,as if to assure herself that her companion was gone, and gone withoutpaying the slightest attention to her. She folded her hands together,and cast her eyes upwards, with an expression of such agony as explainedto Charles (as he thought) what painful ideas were passing in her mind."This Peveril is a perfect pattern of successful perfidy, carrying offthis Queen of the Amazons, but he has left us, I think, a disconsolateAriadne in her place.--But weep not, my princess of pretty movements,"he said, addressing himself to Fenella; "if we cannot call in Bacchus toconsole you, we will commit you to the care of Empson, who shall drinkwith _Liber Pater_ for a thousand pounds, and I will say done first."
As the King spoke these words, Fenella rushed past him with her wontedrapidity of step, and, with much less courtesy than was due to the royalpresence, hurried downstairs, and out of the house, without attemptingto open any communication with the Monarch. He saw her abrupt departurewith more surprise than displeasure; and presently afterwards, burstinginto a fit of laughter, he said to the Duke, "Oddsfish, George, thisyoung spark might teach the best of us how to manage the wenches. I havehad my own experience, but I could never yet contrive either to win orlose them with so little ceremony."
"Experience, sir," replied the duke, "cannot be acquired without years."
"True, George; and you would, I suppose, insinuate," said Charles, "thatthe gallant who acquires it, loses as much in youth as he gains in art?I defy your insinuation, George. You cannot overreach your master, oldas you think him, either in love or politics. You have not the secret_plumer la poule sans la faire crier_, witness this morning's work. Iwill give you odds at all games--ay, and at the Mall too, if thou darestaccept my challenge.--Chiffinch, what for dost thou convulse thy prettythroat and face with sobbing and hatching tears, which seem ratherunwilling to make their appearance!"
"It is for fear," whined Chiffinch, "that your Majesty shouldthink--that you should expect----"
"That I should expect gratitude from a courtier, or faith from a woman?"answered the King, patting her at the same time under the chin, to makeher raise her face--"Tush! chicken, I am not so superfluous."
"There it is now," said Chiffinch, continuing to sob the more bitterly,as she felt herself unable to produce any tears; "I see your Majesty isdetermined to lay all the blame on me, when I am innocent as an unbornbabe--I will be judged by his Grace."
"No doubt, no doubt, Chiffie," said the King. "His Grace and you willbe excellent judges in each other's cause, and as good witnesses ineach other's favour. But to investigate the matter impartially, we mustexamine our evidence apart.--My Lord Duke, we meet at the Mall at noon,if your Grace dare accept my challenge."
His Grace of Buckingham bowed, and retired.