Chapter IX. The Original Of The Portrait Comes To England
'Twas announced in the family that my Lord Castlewood would arrive, havinga confidential French gentleman in his suite, who acted as secretary tohis lordship, and who being a Papist, and a foreigner of a good family,though now in rather a menial place, would have his meals served in hischamber, and not with the domestics of the house. The viscountess gave upher bedchamber contiguous to her daughter's, and having a large convenientcloset attached to it, in which a bed was put up, ostensibly for MonsieurBaptiste, the Frenchman; though, 'tis needless to say, when the doors ofthe apartments were locked, and the two guests retired within it, theyoung viscount became the servant of the illustrious prince whom heentertained, and gave up gladly the more convenient and airy chamber andbed to his master. Madam Beatrix also retired to the upper region, herchamber being converted into a sitting-room for my lord. The better tocarry the deceit, Beatrix affected to grumble before the servants, and tobe jealous that she was turned out of her chamber to make way for my lord.
No small preparations were made, you may be sure, and no slight tremor ofexpectation caused the hearts of the gentle ladies of Castlewood toflutter, before the arrival of the personages who were about to honourtheir house. The chamber was ornamented with flowers; the bed covered withthe very finest of linen; the two ladies insisting on making itthemselves, and kneeling down at the bedside and kissing the sheets out ofrespect for the web that was to hold the sacred person of a king. Thetoilet was of silver and crystal; there was a copy of _Eikon Basilike_laid on the writing-table; a portrait of the martyred king hung alwaysover the mantel, having a sword of my poor Lord Castlewood underneath it,and a little picture or emblem which the widow loved always to have beforeher eyes on waking, and in which the hair of her lord and her two childrenwas worked together. Her books of private devotions, as they were all ofthe English Church, she carried away with her to the upper apartment whichshe destined for herself. The ladies showed Mr. Esmond, when they werecompleted, the fond preparations they had made. 'Twas then Beatrix kneltdown and kissed the linen sheets. As for her mother, Lady Castlewood madea curtsy at the door, as she would have done to the altar on entering achurch, and owned that she considered the chamber in a manner sacred.
The company in the servants' hall never for a moment supposed that thesepreparations were made for any other person than the young viscount, thelord of the house, whom his fond mother had been for so many years withoutseeing. Both ladies were perfect housewives, having the greatest skill inthe making of confections, scented waters, &c., and keeping a notablesuperintendence over the kitchen. Calves enough were killed to feed anarmy of prodigal sons, Esmond thought, and laughed when he came to wait onthe ladies, on the day when the guests were to arrive, to find two pairsof the finest and roundest arms to be seen in England (my Lady Castlewoodwas remarkable for this beauty of her person), covered with flour up abovethe elbows, and preparing paste, and turning rolling-pins in thehousekeeper's closet. The guest would not arrive till supper-time, and mylord would prefer having that meal in his own chamber. You may be sure thebrightest plate of the house was laid out there, and can understand why itwas that the ladies insisted that they alone would wait upon the youngchief of the family.
Taking horse, Colonel Esmond rode rapidly to Rochester, and there awaitedthe king in that very town where his father had last set his foot on theEnglish shore. A room had been provided at an inn there for my LordCastlewood and his servant; and Colonel Esmond timed his ride so well thathe had scarce been half an hour in the place, and was looking over thebalcony into the yard of the inn, when two travellers rode in at theinn-gate, and the colonel running down, the next moment embraced his dearyoung lord.
My lord's companion, acting the part of a domestic, dismounted, and wasfor holding the viscount's stirrup; but Colonel Esmond, calling to his ownman, who was in the court, bade him take the horses and settle with thelad who had ridden the post along with the two travellers, crying out in acavalier tone in the French language to my lord's companion, and affectingto grumble that my lord's fellow was a Frenchman, and did not know themoney or habits of the country:--"My man will see to the horses, Baptiste,"says Colonel Esmond: "do you understand English?" "Very leetle." "So,follow my lord and wait upon him at dinner in his own room." The landlordand his people came up presently bearing the dishes; 'twas well they madea noise and stir in the gallery, or they might have found Colonel Esmondon his knee before Lord Castlewood's servant, welcoming his Majesty to hiskingdom, and kissing the hand of the king. We told the landlord that theFrenchman would wait on his master; and Esmond's man was ordered to keepsentry in the gallery without the door. The prince dined with a goodappetite, laughing and talking very gaily, and condescendingly bidding histwo companions to sit with him at table. He was in better spirits thanpoor Frank Castlewood, who Esmond thought might be wobegone on account ofparting with his divine Clotilda; but the prince wishing to take a shortsiesta after dinner, and retiring to an inner chamber where there was abed, the cause of poor Frank's discomfiture came out; and bursting intotears, with many expressions of fondness, friendship, and humiliation, thefaithful lad gave his kinsman to understand that he now knew all thetruth, and the sacrifices which Colonel Esmond had made for him.
Seeing no good in acquainting poor Frank with that secret, Mr. Esmond hadentreated his mistress also not to reveal it to her son. The prince hadtold the poor lad all as they were riding from Dover: "I had as lief hehad shot me, cousin," Frank said: "I knew you were the best and thebravest, and the kindest of all men" (so the enthusiastic young fellowwent on); "but I never thought I owed you what I do, and can scarce bearthe weight of the obligation."
"I stand in the place of your father," says Mr. Esmond kindly, "and sure afather may dispossess himself in favour of his son. I abdicate thetwopenny crown, and invest you with the kingdom of Brentford; don't be afool and cry; you make a much taller and handsomer viscount than ever Icould." But the fond boy with oaths and protestations, laughter andincoherent outbreaks of passionate emotion, could not be got, for somelittle time, to put up with Esmond's raillery; wanted to kneel down tohim, and kissed his hand; asked him and implored him to order something,to bid Castlewood give his own life up or take somebody else's; anything,so that he might show his gratitude for the generosity Esmond showed him.
"The k----, _he_ laughed," Frank said, pointing to the door where thesleeper was, and speaking in a low tone, "I don't think he should havelaughed as he told me the story. As we rode along from Dover, talking inFrench, he spoke about you, and your coming to him at Bar; he called you'_le grand serieux_', Don Bellianis of Greece, and I don't know whatnames; mimicking your manner" (here Castlewood laughed himself)--"and hedid it very well. He seems to sneer at everything. He is not like a king:somehow, Harry, I fancy you are like a king. He does not seem to thinkwhat a stake we are all playing. He would have stopped at Canterbury torun after a barmaid there, had I not implored him to come on. He hath ahouse at Chaillot where he used to go and bury himself for weeks away fromthe queen, and with all sorts of bad company," says Frank, with a demurelook; "you may smile, but I am not the wild fellow I was; no, no, I havebeen taught better," says Castlewood devoutly, making a sign on hisbreast.
"Thou art my dear brave boy," says Colonel Esmond, touched at the youngfellow's simplicity, "and there will be a noble gentleman at Castlewood solong as my Frank is there."
The impetuous young lad was for going down on his knees again, withanother explosion of gratitude, but that we heard the voice from the nextchamber of the august sleeper, just waking, calling out:--"_Eh, La-Fleur,un verre d'eau_"; his Majesty came out yawning:--"A pest," says he, "uponyour English ale; 'tis so strong that, _ma foi_, it hath turned my head."
The effect of the ale was like a spur upon our horses, and we rode veryquickly to London, reaching Kensington at nightfall. Mr. Esmond's servantwas left behind at Rochester, to take care of the tired horses, whilst wehad fresh beasts provided along the road.
And galloping by the prince'sside the colonel explained to the Prince of Wales what his movements hadbeen; who the friends were that knew of the expedition; whom, as Esmondconceived, the prince should trust; entreating him, above all, to maintainthe very closest secrecy until the time should come when his royalhighness should appear. The town swarmed with friends of the prince'scause; there were scores of correspondents with St. Germains; Jacobitesknown and secret; great in station and humble; about the Court and thequeen; in the Parliament, Church, and among the merchants in the City. Theprince had friends numberless in the army, in the Privy Council, and theofficers of state. The great object, as it seemed, to the small band ofpersons who had concerted that bold stroke, who had brought the queen'sbrother into his native country, was, that his visit should remain unknowntill the proper time came, when his presence should surprise friends andenemies alike; and the latter should be found so unprepared and disunited,that they should not find time to attack him. We feared more from hisfriends than from his enemies. The lies, and tittle-tattle sent over toSt. Germains by the Jacobite agents about London, had done an incalculablemischief to his cause, and wofully misguided him, and it was from theseespecially, that the persons engaged in the present venture were anxiousto defend the chief actor in it.(16)
The party reached London by nightfall, leaving their horses at thePosting-House over against Westminster, and being ferried over the waterwhere Lady Esmond's coach was already in waiting. In another hour we wereall landed at Kensington, and the mistress of the house had thatsatisfaction which her heart had yearned after for many years, once moreto embrace her son, who on his side, with all his waywardness, everretained a most tender affection for his parent.
She did not refrain from this expression of her feeling, though thedomestics were by, and my Lord Castlewood's attendant stood in the hall.Esmond had to whisper to him in French to take his hat off. MonsieurBaptiste was constantly neglecting his part with an inconceivable levity:more than once on the ride to London, little observations of the stranger,light remarks, and words betokening the greatest ignorance of the countrythe prince came to govern, had hurt the susceptibility of the twogentlemen forming his escort; nor could either help owning in his secretmind that they would have had his behaviour otherwise, and that thelaughter and the lightness, not to say licence, which characterized histalk, scarce befitted such a great prince, and such a solemn occasion. Notbut that he could act at proper times with spirit and dignity. He hadbehaved, as we all knew, in a very courageous manner on the field. Esmondhad seen a copy of the letter the prince writ with his own hand when urgedby his friends in England to abjure his religion, and admired that manlyand magnanimous reply by which he refused to yield to the temptation.Monsieur Baptiste took off his hat, blushing at the hint Colonel Esmondventured to give him, and said:--"_Tenez, elle est jolie, la petite mere;Foi-de-Chevalier! elle est charmante; mais l'autre, qui est cette nymphe,cet astre qui brille, cette Diane qui descend sur nous?_" And he startedback, and pushed forward, as Beatrix was descending the stair. She was incolours for the first time at her own house; she wore the diamonds Esmondgave her; it had been agreed between them, that she should wear thesebrilliants on the day when the king should enter the house, and a queenshe looked, radiant in charms, and magnificent and imperial in beauty.
Castlewood himself was startled by that beauty and splendour; he steppedback and gazed at his sister as though he had not been aware before (norwas he, very likely) how perfectly lovely she was, and I thought blushedas he embraced her. The prince could not keep his eyes off her; he quiteforgot his menial part, though he had been schooled to it, and a littlelight portmanteau prepared expressly that he should carry it. He pressedforward before my lord viscount. 'Twas lucky the servants' eyes were busyin other directions, or they must have seen that this was no servant, orat least a very insolent and rude one.
Again Colonel Esmond was obliged to cry out, "Baptiste", in a loudimperious voice, "have a care to the valise"; at which hint the wilfulyoung man ground his teeth together with something very like a cursebetween them, and then gave a brief look of anything but pleasure to hisMentor. Being reminded, however, he shouldered the little portmanteau, andcarried it up the stair, Esmond preceding him, and a servant with lightedtapers. He flung down his burden sulkily in the bedchamber:--"A prince thatwill wear a crown must wear a mask," says Mr. Esmond, in French.
"_Ah, peste!_ I see how it is," says Monsieur Baptiste, continuing thetalk in French. "The Great Serious is seriously"--"alarmed for MonsieurBaptiste," broke in the colonel. Esmond neither liked the tone with whichthe prince spoke of the ladies, nor the eyes with which he regarded them.
The bedchamber and the two rooms adjoining it, the closet and theapartment which was to be called my lord's parlour, were already lightedand awaiting their occupier; and the collation laid for my lord's supper.Lord Castlewood and his mother and sister came up the stair a minuteafterwards, and, so soon as the domestics had quitted the apartment,Castlewood and Esmond uncovered, and the two ladies went down on theirknees before the prince, who graciously gave a hand to each. He looked hispart of prince much more naturally than that of servant, which he had justbeen trying, and raised them both with a great deal of nobility, as wellas kindness in his air. "Madam," says he, "my mother will thank yourladyship for your hospitality to her son; for you, madam," turning toBeatrix, "I cannot bear to see so much beauty in such a posture. You willbetray Monsieur Baptiste if you kneel to him; sure 'tis his place ratherto kneel to you."
A light shone out of her eyes; a gleam bright enough to kindle passion inany breast. There were times when this creature was so handsome, that sheseemed, as it were, like Venus revealing herself a goddess in a flash ofbrightness. She appeared so now; radiant, and with eyes bright with awonderful lustre. A pang, as of rage and jealousy, shot through Esmond'sheart, as he caught the look she gave the prince; and he clenched his handinvoluntarily and looked across to Castlewood, whose eyes answered hisalarm-signal, and were also on the alert. The prince gave his subjects anaudience of a few minutes, and then the two ladies and Colonel Esmondquitted the chamber. Lady Castlewood pressed his hand as they descendedthe stair, and the three went down to the lower rooms, where they waitedawhile till the travellers above should be refreshed and ready for theirmeal.
Esmond looked at Beatrix, blazing with her jewels on her beautiful neck."I have kept my word," says he: "And I mine," says Beatrix, looking downon the diamonds.
"Were I the Mogul emperor," says the colonel, "you should have all thatwere dug out of Golconda."
"These are a great deal too good for me," says Beatrix, dropping her headon her beautiful breast,--"so are you all, all:" and when she looked upagain, as she did in a moment, and after a sigh, her eyes, as they gazedat her cousin, wore that melancholy and inscrutable look which 'twasalways impossible to sound.
When the time came for the supper, of which we were advertised by aknocking overhead, Colonel Esmond and the two ladies went to the upperapartment, where the prince already was, and by his side the youngviscount, of exactly the same age, shape, and with features notdissimilar, though Frank's were the handsomer of the two. The prince satdown, and bade the ladies sit. The gentlemen remained standing; there was,indeed, but one more cover laid at the table:--"Which of you will take it?"says he.
"The head of our house," says Lady Castlewood, taking her son's hand, andlooking towards Colonel Esmond with a bow and a great tremor of the voice;"the Marquis of Esmond will have the honour of serving the king."
"I shall have the honour of waiting on his royal highness," says ColonelEsmond, filling a cup of wine, and, as the fashion of that day was, hepresented it to the king on his knee.
"I drink to my hostess and her family," says the prince, with no verywell-pleased air; but the cloud passed immediately off his face, and hetalked to the ladies in a lively, rattling strain, quite undisturbed bypoor Mr. Esmond's yellow countenance, that I dare say looked very glum.
When the time came to take leave, Esmo
nd marched homewards to hislodgings, and met Mr. Addison on the road that night, walking to a cottagehe had at Fulham, the moon shining on his handsome serene face:--"Whatcheer, brother?" says Addison, laughing; "I thought it was a footpadadvancing in the dark, and behold 'tis an old friend. We may shake hands,colonel, in the dark, 'tis better than fighting by daylight. Why should wequarrel, because I am a Whig and thou art a Tory? Turn thy steps and walkwith me to Fulham, where there is a nightingale still singing in thegarden, and a cool bottle in a cave I know of; you shall drink to thePretender if you like, and I will drink my liquor my own way: I have hadenough of good liquor?--no, never! There is no such word as enough as astopper for good wine. Thou wilt not come? Come any day, come soon. Youknow I remember _Simois_ and the _Sigeia tellus_, and the _praelia mixtamero, mixta mero_," he repeated, with ever so slight a touch of _merum_ inhis voice, and walked back a little way on the road with Esmond, biddingthe other remember he was always his friend, and indebted to him for hisaid in the _Campaign_ poem. And very likely Mr. Under Secretary would havestepped in and taken t'other bottle at the colonel's lodgings, had thelatter invited him, but Esmond's mood was none of the gayest, and he badehis friend an inhospitable good-night at the door.
"I have done the deed," thought he, sleepless, and looking out into thenight; "he is here, and I have brought him; he and Beatrix are sleepingunder the same roof now. Whom did I mean to serve in bringing him? Was itthe prince, was it Henry Esmond? Had I not best have joined the manlycreed of Addison yonder, that scouts the old doctrine of right divine,that boldly declares that Parliament and people consecrate the sovereign,not bishops, nor genealogies, nor oils, nor coronations." The eager gazeof the young prince, watching every movement of Beatrix, haunted Esmondand pursued him. The prince's figure appeared before him in his feverishdreams many times that night. He wished the deed undone, for which he hadlaboured so. He was not the first that has regretted his own act, orbrought about his own undoing. Undoing? Should he write that word in hislate years? No, on his knees before Heaven, rather be thankful for whatthen he deemed his misfortune, and which hath caused the whole subsequenthappiness of his life.
Esmond's man, honest John Lockwood, had served his master and the familyall his life, and the colonel knew that he could answer for John'sfidelity as for his own. John returned with the horses from Rochesterbetimes the next morning, and the colonel gave him to understand that ongoing to Kensington, where he was free of the servants' hall, and indeedcourting Mrs. Beatrix's maid, he was to ask no questions, and betray nosurprise, but to vouch stoutly that the young gentleman he should see in ared coat there was my Lord Viscount Castlewood, and that his attendant ingrey was Monsieur Baptiste the Frenchman. He was to tell his friends inthe kitchen such stories as he remembered of my lord viscount's youth atCastlewood; what a wild boy he was; how he used to drill Jack and canehim, before ever he was a soldier; everything, in fine, he knew respectingmy lord viscount's early days. Jack's ideas of painting had not been muchcultivated during his residence in Flanders with his master; and, beforemy young lord's return, he had been easily got to believe that the picturebrought over from Paris, and now hanging in Lady Castlewood'sdrawing-room, was a perfect likeness of her son, the young lord. And thedomestics having all seen the picture many times, and catching but amomentary imperfect glimpse of the two strangers on the night of theirarrival, never had a reason to doubt the fidelity of the portrait; andnext day, when they saw the original of the piece habited exactly as hewas represented in the painting, with the same periwig, ribbon, anduniform of the Guard, quite naturally addressed the gentleman as my LordCastlewood, my lady viscountess's son.
The secretary of the night previous was now the viscount; the viscountwore the secretary's grey frock; and John Lockwood was instructed to hintto the world below stairs that my lord being a Papist, and very devout inthat religion, his attendant might be no other than his chaplain fromBruxelles; hence, if he took his meals in my lord's company there waslittle reason for surprise. Frank was further cautioned to speak Englishwith a foreign accent, which task he performed indifferently well, andthis caution was the more necessary because the prince himself scarcespoke our language like a native of the island; and John Lockwood laughedwith the folks below stairs at the manner in which my lord, after fiveyears abroad, sometimes forgot his own tongue and spoke it like aFrenchman. "I warrant," says he, "that with the English beef and beer, hislordship will soon get back the proper use of his mouth;" and, to do hisnew lordship justice, he took to beer and beef very kindly.
The prince drank so much, and was so loud and imprudent in his talk afterhis drink, that Esmond often trembled for him. His meals were served asmuch as possible in his own chamber, though frequently he made hisappearance in Lady Castlewood's parlour and drawing-room, calling Beatrix"sister", and her ladyship "mother", or "madam", before the servants. And,choosing to act entirely up to the part of brother and son, the princesometimes saluted Mrs. Beatrix and Lady Castlewood with a freedom whichhis secretary did not like, and which, for his part, set Colonel Esmondtearing with rage.
The guests had not been three days in the house when poor Jack Lockwoodcame with a rueful countenance to his master, and said: "My lord, thatis--the gentleman, has been tampering with Mrs. Lucy" (Jack's sweetheart),"and given her guineas and a kiss." I fear that Colonel Esmond's mind wasrather relieved than otherwise, when he found that the ancillary beautywas the one whom the prince had selected. His royal tastes were known tolie that way, and continued so in after-life. The heir of one of thegreatest names, of the greatest kingdoms, and of the greatest misfortunesin Europe, was often content to lay the dignity of his birth and grief atthe wooden shoes of a French chambermaid, and to repent afterwards (for hewas very devout) in ashes taken from the dustpan. 'Tis for mortals such asthese that nations suffer, that parties struggle, that warriors fight andbleed. A year afterwards gallant heads were falling, and Nithsdale inescape, and Derwentwater on the scaffold; whilst the heedless ingrate, forwhom they risked and lost all, was tippling with his seraglio ofmistresses in his _petite maison_ of Chaillot.
Blushing to be forced to bear such an errand, Esmond had to go to theprince and warn him that the girl whom his highness was bribing, was JohnLockwood's sweetheart, an honest resolute man, who had served in sixcampaigns, and feared nothing, and who knew that the person, callinghimself Lord Castlewood, was not his young master: and the colonelbesought the prince to consider what the effect of a single man's jealousymight be, and to think of other designs he had in hand, more importantthan the seduction of a waiting-maid, and the humiliation of a brave man.Ten times, perhaps, in the course of as many days, Mr. Esmond had to warnthe royal young adventurer of some imprudence or some freedom. He receivedthese remonstrances very testily, save perhaps in this affair of poorLockwood's, when he deigned to burst out a-laughing, and said, "What! the_soubrette_ has peached to the _amoureux_, and Crispin is angry, andCrispin has served, and Crispin has been a corporal, has he? Tell him wewill reward his valour with a pair of colours, and recompense hisfidelity."
Colonel Esmond ventured to utter some other words of entreaty, but theprince, stamping imperiously, cried out, "_Assez, milord: je m'ennuye a lapreche_; I am not come to London to go to the sermon." And he complainedafterwards to Castlewood, that "_le petit jaune, le noir colonel, leMarquis Misanthrope_" (by which facetious names his royal highness waspleased to designate Colonel Esmond), "fatigued him with his grand airsand virtuous homilies."
The Bishop of Rochester, and other gentlemen engaged in the transactionwhich had brought the prince over, waited upon his royal highness,constantly asking for my Lord Castlewood on their arrival at Kensington,and being openly conducted to his royal highness in that character, whoreceived them either in my lady's drawing-room below, or above in his ownapartment; and all implored him to quit the house as little as possible,and to wait there till the signal should be given for him to appear. Theladies entertained him at cards, over which amusement he spent many hoursin each day and night
. He passed many hours more in drinking, during whichtime he would rattle and talk very agreeably, and especially if thecolonel was absent, whose presence always seemed to frighten him; and thepoor "_Colonel Noir_" took that hint as a command accordingly, and seldomintruded his black face upon the convivial hours of this august youngprisoner. Except for those few persons of whom the porter had the list,Lord Castlewood was denied to all friends of the house who waited on hislordship. The wound he had received had broke out again from his journeyon horseback, so the world and the domestics were informed. And DoctorA----,(17) his physician (I shall not mention his name, but he was physicianto the Queen, of the Scots nation, and a man remarkable for hisbenevolence as well as his wit), gave orders that he should be keptperfectly quiet until the wound should heal. With this gentleman, who wasone of the most active and influential of our party, and the others beforespoken of, the whole secret lay; and it was kept with so muchfaithfulness, and the story we told so simple and natural, that there wasno likelihood of a discovery except from the imprudence of the princehimself, and an adventurous levity that we had the greatest difficulty tocontrol. As for Lady Castlewood, although she scarce spoke a word, 'twaseasy to gather from her demeanour, and one or two hints she dropped, howdeep her mortification was at finding the hero whom she had chosen toworship all her life (and whose restoration had formed almost the mostsacred part of her prayers), no more than a man, and not a good one. Shethought misfortune might have chastened him; but that instructress hadrather rendered him callous than humble. His devotion, which was quitereal, kept him from no sin he had a mind to. His talk showed good-humour,gaiety, even wit enough; but there was a levity in his acts and words thathe had brought from among those libertine devotees with whom he had beenbred, and that shocked the simplicity and purity of the English lady,whose guest he was. Esmond spoke his mind to Beatrix pretty freely aboutthe prince, getting her brother to put in a word of warning. Beatrix wasentirely of their opinion; she thought he was very light, very light andreckless; she could not even see the good looks Colonel Esmond had spokenof. The prince had bad teeth, and a decided squint. How could we say hedid not squint? His eyes were fine, but there was certainly a cast inthem. She rallied him at table with wonderful wit; she spoke of himinvariably as of a mere boy; she was more fond of Esmond than ever,praised him to her brother, praised him to the prince, when his royalhighness was pleased to sneer at the colonel, and warmly espoused hiscause: "And if your Majesty does not give him the Garter his father had,when the Marquis of Esmond comes to your Majesty's Court, I will hangmyself in my own garters, or will cry my eyes out." "Rather than losethose," says the prince, "he shall be made archbishop and colonel of theGuard" (it was Frank Castlewood who told me of this conversation overtheir supper).
"Yes," cries she, with one of her laughs,--(I fancy I hear it now; thirtyyears afterwards I hear that delightful music)--"yes, he shall beArchbishop of Esmond and Marquis of Canterbury."
"And what will your ladyship be?" says the prince; "you have but to chooseyour place."
"I," says Beatrix, "will be mother of the maids to the queen of hisMajesty King James the Third--_Vive le Roy!_" and she made him a greatcurtsy, and drank a part of a glass of wine in his honour.
"The prince seized hold of the glass and drank the last drop of it,"Castlewood said, "and my mother, looking very anxious, rose up and askedleave to retire. But that 'Trix is my mother's daughter, Harry," Frankcontinued, "I don't know what a horrid fear I should have of her. I wish--Iwish this business were over. You are older than I am, and wiser, andbetter, and I owe you everything, and would die for you--before George Iwould; but I wish the end of this were come."
Neither of us very likely passed a tranquil night; horrible doubts andtorments racked Esmond's soul; 'twas a scheme of personal ambition, adaring stroke for a selfish end--he knew it. What cared he, in his heart,who was king? Were not his very sympathies and secret convictions on theother side--on the side of People, Parliament, Freedom? And here was he,engaged for a prince, that had scarce heard the word "liberty"; thatpriests and women, tyrants by nature both, made a tool of. The misanthropewas in no better humour after hearing that story, and his grim face moreblack and yellow than ever.
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