Simon Dale

by Anthony Hope

  CHAPTER IV

  CYDARIA REVEALED

  There, mounted on the coach at Hertford (for at last I am fairly on myway, and may boast that I have made short work of my farewells), agentleman apparently about thirty years of age, tall, well-proportioned,and with a thin face, clean-cut and high-featured. He was attended by aservant whom he called Robert, a stout ruddy fellow, who was very jovialwith every post-boy and ostler on the road. The gentleman, being placednext to me by the chance of our billets, lost no time in opening theconversation, a step which my rustic backwardness would long havedelayed. He invited my confidence by a free display of his own,informing me that he was attached to the household of Lord Arlington,and was returning to London on his lordship's summons. For since hispatron had been called to the place of Secretary of State, he, MrChristopher Darrell (such was his name), was likely to be employed byhim in matters of trust, and thus fill a position which I must perceiveto be of some importance. All this was poured forth with wonderfulcandour and geniality, and I, in response, opened to him my fortunes andprospects, keeping back nothing save the mention of Cydaria. Mr Darrellwas, or affected to be, astonished to learn that I was a stranger toLondon--my air smacked of the Mall and of no other spot in the world, heswore most politely--but made haste to offer me his services, proposingthat, since Lord Arlington did not look for him that night, and he hadabandoned his former lodging, we should lodge together at an inn henamed in Covent Garden, when he could introduce me to some pleasantcompany. I accepted his offer most eagerly. Then he fell to talking ofthe Court, of the households of the King and the Duke, of Madame theDuchess of Orleans, who was soon to come to England, they said (on whatbusiness he did not know); next he spoke, although now with caution, ofpersons no less well known but of less high reputation, referringlightly to Lady Castlemaine and Eleanor Gwyn and others, while Ilistened, half-scandalised, half-pleased. But I called him back byasking whether he were acquainted with one of the Duchess's ladies namedMistress Barbara Quinton.

  "Surely," he said. "There is no fairer lady at Court, and very few sohonest."

  I hurried to let him know that Mistress Barbara and I were old friends.He laughed as he answered,

  "If you'd be more you must lose no time. It is impossible that sheshould refuse many more suitors, and a nobleman of great estate is nowsighing for her so loudly as to be audible from Whitehall to TempleBar."

  I heard the news with interest, with pride, and with a touch ofjealousy; but at this time my own fortunes so engrossed me that soon Iharked back to them, and, taking my courage in both hands, was about toask my companion if he had chanced ever to hear of Cydaria, when he gavea new turn to the talk, by asking carelessly,

  "You are a Churchman, sir, I suppose?"

  "Why, yes," I answered, with a smile, and perhaps a bit of a stare."What did you conceive me to be, sir?--a Ranter, or a Papist?"

  "Pardon, pardon, if you find offence in my question," he answered,laughing. "There are many men who are one or the other, you know."

  "The country has learnt that to its sorrow," said I sturdily.

  "Ay," he said, in a dreamy way, "and maybe will learn it again." Andwithout more he fell to describing the famous regiment to which I was tobelong, adding at the end:

  "And if you like a brawl, the 'prentices in the City will always findone for a gentleman of the King's Guards. Take a companion or two withyou when you walk east of Temple Bar. By the way, sir, if the questionmay be pardoned, how came you by your commission? For we know thatmerit, standing alone, stands generally naked also."

  I was much inclined to tell him all the story, but a shamefacedness cameover me. I did not know then how many owed all their advancement to awoman's influence, and my manly pride disdained to own the obligation. Iput him off by a story of a friend who wished to remain unnamed, and,after the feint of some indifferent talk, seized the chance of a shortsilence to ask him my great question.

  "Pray, sir, have you ever heard of a lady who goes sometimes by the nameof Cydaria?" said I. I fear my cheek flushed a little, do what I couldto check such an exhibition of rawness.

  "Cydaria? Where have I heard that name? No, I know nobody--and yet----"He paused; then, clapping his hand on his thigh, cried, "By my faith,yes; I was sure I had heard it. It is a name from a play; from--from the'Indian Emperor.' I think your lady must have been masquerading."

  "I thought as much," I nodded, concealing my disappointment.

  He looked at me a moment with some curiosity, but did not press mefurther; and, since we had begun to draw near London, I soon had my mindtoo full to allow me to think even of Cydaria. There is small profit indescribing what every man can remember for himself--his first sight ofthe greatest city in the world, with its endless houses and swarmingpeople. It made me still and silent as we clattered along, and I forgotmy companion until I chanced to look towards him, and found an amusedglance fixed on my face. But, as we reached the City, he began to pointout where the fire had been, and how the task of rebuilding progressed.Again wonder and anticipation grew on me.

  "Yes," said he, "it's a fine treasure-house for a man who can get thekey to it."

  Yet, amazed as I was, I would not have it supposed that I was altogetheran unlicked cub. My stay in Norwich, if it had not made me a Londoner,had rubbed off some of the plough-mud from me, and I believe that my newfriend was not speaking wholly in idle compliment when he assured methat I should hold my own very well. The first lesson I learnt was notto show any wonder that I might feel, but to receive all that chanced asthough it were the most ordinary thing in the world; for this, beyondall, is the hall-mark of your quality. Indeed, it was well that I was sofar fit to show my face, since I was to be plunged into the midst of thestream with a suddenness which startled, although it could not displeaseme. For the first beginning I was indebted to Mr Darrell, for whatfollowed to myself alone and a temper that has never been of the mostpatient.

  We had reached our inn and refreshed ourselves, and I was standinglooking out on the evening and wondering at what time it was proper forme to seek my bed when my friend entered with an eager air, and advancedtowards me, crying,

  "Dear sir, I hope your wardrobe is in order, for I am resolved to redeemmy word forthwith, and to-night to carry you with me to anentertainment for which I have received an invitation. I am most anxiousfor you to accompany me, as we shall meet many whom you should know."

  I was, of course, full of excuses, but he would admit of one only; andthat one I could not or would not make. For I had provided myself with aneat and proper suit, of which I was very far from ashamed, and which,when assumed by me and set off with a new cloak to match it, wasdeclared by Mr Darrell to be most apt for the occasion.

  "You lack nothing but a handsome cane," said he, "and that I can myselfprovide. Come, let us call chairs and be gone, for it grows latealready."

  Our host that evening was Mr Jermyn, a gentleman in great repute atCourt, and he entertained us most handsomely at the New Spring Garden,according to me a welcome of especial courtesy, that I might be at myease and feel no stranger among the company. He placed me on his lefthand, Darrell being on my other side, while opposite to me sat my lordthe Earl of Carford, a fine-looking man of thirty or a year or twoabove. Among the guests Mr Darrell indicated several whose names wereknown to me, such as the witty Lord Rochester and the French Ambassador,M. de Cominges, a very stately gentleman. These, however, being at theother end of the table, I made no acquaintance with them, and contentedmyself with listening to the conversation of my neighbours, putting in aword where I seemed able with propriety and without displaying anignorance of which I was very sensible. It seemed to me that LordCarford, to whom I had not been formally presented (indeed, all talkedto one another without ceremony) received what I said with more thansufficient haughtiness and distance; but on Darrell whisperinghumorously that he was a great lord, and held himself even greater thanhe was, I made little of it, thinking my best revenge would be to givehim a lesson in courtesy. Thus all went wel
l till we had finished eatingand sat sipping our wine. Then my Lord Carford, being a littleoverheated with what he had drunk, began suddenly to inveigh against theKing with remarkable warmth and freedom, so that it seemed evident thathe smarted under some recent grievance. The raillery of our host, nottoo nice or delicate, soon spurred him to a discovery of his complaint.He asked nothing better than to be urged to a disclosure.

  "Neither rank, nor friendship, nor service," he said, smiting the table,"are enough to gain the smallest favour from the King. All goes to thewomen; they have but to ask to have. I prayed the King to give me for acousin of mine a place in the Life Guards that was to be vacant, andhe--by Heaven, he promised! Then comes Nell, and Nell wants it for afriend--and Nell has it for a friend--and I go empty!"

  I had started when he spoke of the Life Guards, and sat now in a stateof great disturbance. Darrell also, as I perceived, was very uneasy, andmade a hasty effort to alter the course of the conversation; but MrJermyn would not have it.

  "Who is the happy--the new happy man, that is Mistress Nell's friend?"he asked, smiling.

  "Some clod from the country," returned the Earl; "his name, they say, isDale."

  I felt my heart beating, but I trust that I looked cool enough as Ileant across and said,

  "Your lordship is misinformed. I have the best of reasons for sayingso."

  "The reasons may be good, sir," he retorted with a stare, "but they arenot evident."

  "I am myself just named to a commission in the King's Life Guards, andmy name is Dale," said I, restraining myself to a show of composure, forI felt Darrell's hand on my arm.

  "By my faith, then, you're the happy man," sneered Carford. "Icongratulate you on your----"

  "Stay, stay, Carford," interposed Mr Jermyn.

  "On your--godmother," said Carford.

  "You're misinformed, my lord," I repeated fiercely, although by now agreat fear had come upon me. I knew whom they meant by "Nell."

  "By God, sir, I'm not misinformed," said he.

  "By God, my lord," said I--though I had not been wont to swear--"By God,my lord, you are."

  Our voices had risen in anger; a silence fell on the party, all turningfrom their talk to listen to us. Carford's face went red when I gave himthe lie so directly and the more fiercely because, to my shame andwonder, I had begun to suspect that what he said was no lie. But Ifollowed up the attack briskly.

  "Therefore, my lord," I said, "I will beg of you to confess your error,and withdraw what you have said."

  He burst into a laugh.

  "If I weren't ashamed to take a favour from such a hand, I wouldn't beashamed to own it," said he.

  I rose from my seat and bowed to him gravely. All understood my meaning;but he, choosing to treat me with insolence, did not rise nor return mysalute, but sat where he was, smiling scornfully.

  "You don't understand me, it seems, my lord," said I. "May be this willquicken your wits," and I flung the napkin which had been brought to meafter meat lightly in his face. He sprang up quickly enough then, and sodid all the company. Darrell caught me by the arm and held me fast.Jermyn was by Carford's side. I hardly knew what passed, being muchupset by the sudden quarrel, and yet more by the idea, that Carford'swords had put in my head. I saw Jermyn come forward, and Darrell,loosing my arm, went and spoke to him. Lord Carford resumed his seat; Ileant against the back of my chair and waited. Darrell was not long inreturning to me.

  "You'd best go home," he said, in a low voice. "I'll arrangeeverything. You must meet to-morrow morning."

  I nodded my head; I had grown cool and collected now. Bowing slightly toCarford, and low to my host and the company, I turned to the door. As Ipassed through it, I heard the talk break out again behind me. I gotinto my chair, which was waiting, and was carried back to my inn in ahalf-amazed state. I gave little thought to the quarrel or to themeeting that awaited me. My mind was engrossed with the revelation towhich I had listened. I doubted it still; nay, I would not believe it.Yet whence came the story unless it were true? And it seemed to fit mostaptly and most lamentably with what had befallen me, and to throw lighton what had been a puzzle. It was hard on four years since I had partedfrom Cydaria; but that night I felt that, if the thing were true, Ishould receive Carford's point in my heart without a pang.

  Being, as may be supposed, little inclined for sleep, I turned into thepublic room of the inn and called for a bottle of wine. The room wasempty save for a lanky fellow, very plainly dressed, who sat at thetable reading a book. He was drinking nothing, and when--my wine havingbeen brought--I called in courtesy for a second glass and invited him tojoin me, he shook his head sourly. Yet presently he closed his book,which I now perceived to be a Bible, and fixed an earnest gaze on me. Hewas a strange-looking fellow; his face was very thin and long, and hishair (for he wore his own and no wig) hung straight from the crown ofhis head in stiff wisps. I set him down as a Ranter, and was in no waysurprised when he began to inveigh against the evils of the times, andto prophesy the judgment of God on the sins of the city.

  "Pestilence hath come and fire hath come," he cried. "Yet wickedness isnot put away, and lewdness vaunteth herself, and the long-suffering ofGod is abused."

  All this seeming to me very tedious, I sipped my wine and made noanswer. I had enough to think of, and was content to let the sins of thecity alone.

  "The foul superstition of Papacy raises its head again," he went on,"and godly men are persecuted."

  "Those same godly men," said I, "have had their turn before now, sir. Tomany it seems as if they were only receiving what they gave." For thefellow had roused me to some little temper by his wearisome cursing.

  "But the Time of the Lord is at hand," he pursued, "and all men shallsee the working of His wrath. Ay, it shall be seen even in palaces."

  "If I were you, sir," said I dryly, "I would not talk thus beforestrangers. There might be danger in it."

  He scanned my face closely for a few moments; then, leaning acrosstowards me, he said earnestly:

  "You are young, and you look honest. Be warned in time; fight on theLord's side, and not among His enemies. Verily the time cometh."

  I had met many of these mad fellows, for the country was full of them,some being disbanded soldiers of the Commonwealth, some ministers whohad lost their benefices; but this fellow seemed more crazy than any Ihad seen: though, indeed, I must confess there was a full measure oftruth, if not of charity, in the description of the King's Court onwhich he presently launched himself with great vigour of declamation andan intense, although ridiculous, exhibition of piety.

  "You may be very right, sir----"

  "My name is Phineas Tate."

  "You may be very right, friend Phineas," said I, yawning; "but I can'talter all this. Go and preach to the King."

  "The King shall be preached to in words that he must hear," he retortedwith a frown, "but the time is not yet."

  "The time now is to seek our beds," said I, smiling. "Do you lodgehere?"

  "For this night I lie here. To-morrow I preach to this city."

  "Then I fear you are likely to lie in a less comfortable placeto-morrow." And bidding him good-night, I turned to go. But he sprangafter me, crying, "Remember, the time is short"; and I doubt whether Ishould have got rid of him had not Darrell at that moment entered theroom. To my surprise, the two seemed to know one another, for Darrellbroke into a scornful laugh, exclaiming:

  "Again, Master Tate! What, haven't you left this accursed city to itsfate yet?"

  "It awaits its fate," answered the Ranter sternly, "even as those ofyour superstition wait theirs."

  "My superstition must look out for itself," said Darrell, with a shrug;and, seeing that I was puzzled, he added, "Mr Tate is not pleased withme because I am of the old religion."

  "Indeed?" I cried. "I didn't know you were a--of the old church." For Iremembered with confusion a careless remark that I had let fall as wejourneyed together.

  "Yes," said he simply.

  "Yes!" cried Tate
. "You--and your master also, is he not?"

  Darrell's face grew stern and cold.

  "I would have you careful, sir, when you touch on my Lord Arlington'sname," he said. "You know well that he is not of the Roman faith, but isa convinced adherent of the Church of this country."

  "Is he so?" asked Tate, with an undisguised sneer.

  "Come, enough!" cried Darrell in sudden anger. "I have much to say to myfriend, and shall be glad to be left alone with him."

  Tate made no objection to leaving us, and, gathering up his Bible, wentout scowling.

  "A pestilent fellow," said Darrell. "He'll find himself laid by theheels before long. Well, I have settled your affair with my LordCarford."

  But my affair with Carford was not what I wanted to hear about. I cameto him as he sat down at the table, and, laying my hand on his shoulder,asked simply,

  "Is it true?"

  He looked up at me with great kindness, and answered gently,

  "It is true. I guessed it as soon as you spoke of Cydaria. For Cydariawas the part in which she first gained the favour of the town, and that,taken with your description of her, gave me no room for doubt. Yet Ihoped that it might not be as I feared, or, at least, that the thingcould be hidden. It seems, though, that the saucy wench has made nosecret of it. Thus you are landed in this quarrel, and with a goodswordsman."

  "I care nothing for the quarrel----" I began.

  "Nay, but it is worse than you think. For Lord Carford is the gentlemanof whom I spoke, when I told you that Mistress Quinton had a noblesuitor. And he is high in her favour and higher yet in her father's. Aquarrel with him, and on such a cause, will do you no good in LordQuinton's eyes."

  Indeed, it seemed as though all the furies had combined to vex me. Yetstill my desire was to learn of Cydaria, for even now I could hardlybelieve what Darrell told me. Sitting down by him, I listened while herelated to me what he knew of her; it was little more than thementioning of her true name told me--a name familiar, alas, through allthe country, sung in ballads, bandied to and fro in talk, dragged eveninto high disputes that touched the nation's fortunes; for in thosestrange days, when the world seemed a very devil's comedy, greatcountries, ay, and Holy Churches, fought behind the mask of an actress'sface or chose a fair lady for their champion. I hope, indeed, that theend sanctified the means; they had great need of that finaljustification. Castlemaine and Nell Gwyn--had we not all read and heardand gossiped of them? Our own Vicar had spoken to me of Nell, and wouldnot speak too harshly, for Nell was Protestant. Yes, Nell, so pleaseyou, was Protestant. And other grave divines forgave her half her sinsbecause she flouted most openly and with pert wit the other lady, whowas suspected of an inclination towards Rome and an intention to charmthe King into the true Church's bosom. I also could have forgiven hermuch; for, saving my good Darrell's presence, I hated a Papist worsethan any man, saving a Ranter. Yes, I would have forgiven her all, andapplauded her pretty face and laughed at her pretty ways. I had lookedto do as much when I came to town, being, I must confess, as littlestraightlaced as most young men. But I had not known that the thing wasto touch me close. Could I forgive her my angry humiliation and my soreheart, bruised love and burning ridicule? I could forgive her for beingall she now was. How could I forgive her for having been once myCydaria?

  "Well, you must fight," said Darrell, "although it is not a goodquarrel," and he shook my hand very kindly with a sigh of friendship.

  "Yes, I must fight," said I, "and after that--if there be an after--Imust go to Whitehall."

  "To take up your commission?" he asked.

  "To lay it down, Mr Darrell," said I with a touch of haughtiness. "Youdon't think that I could bear it, since it comes from such a source?"

  He pressed my hand, saying with a smile that seemed tender,

  "You're from the country. Not one in ten would quarrel with that here."

  "Yes, I'm from the country," said I. "It was in the country that I knewCydaria."