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Les diagrammes suivants lllustrent la m*thodo. 1 MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TESr CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 i.l ■- IIIIIM |M ■^ IIIIIM illll 2.2 3.6 If 1^ 2.0 1.8 ^ APPLIED IM/IGE 1653 East Mcin Street Re tiester. New York 14609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 -Phone (716) 288 - 5989 - Fox A Vision ok tiik N'Kjnr. —Page i'flj. 'ge Mi. I A KENT SQUIRE Being a record of certain Adven- tures of AMBROSE GWYNETT Esquire, of Thornhaugh ^ ^ By FREDERICK W. HAYES IVITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTJJATWyS BY THE AUTHOR Toronto : WILLIAM BRIGGS Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand nine hundred, by W.llum Brioos. at the Department of Agiiculture, Ottawa. inry ■ one nt o< MY WIFE NOTE too *r/ , • ""'""'Ses and the incidents introduced mto the following narrative the student of early eighteenth century history will be familiar. For the rest the wrtr" B .ndebted to the family papers of the Ltir LCse Dornngton, the last surviving representative of ,hl ^ °^^ of Thornhaugh. representative of the Gwynetts Although these letters, diaries, and other documents have for reasons valid enough in their day, remained unpublished' nection of Mi. Ambrose Gwynett with the Collins affair in 7.^ and „s curious sequel. Many years afterwards wLen ransp'eTd'htd^f-"" "'^.- '° ''' '^ ">'^ ^^ ^"""^ " rr ™' '° ^ ''"gotten, various garbled or utterly .ncorreet versions of the cause cilibre appear to have GwZ" " t'' Zt '*'^''' '"'"= ^'^--"- Of aI' ofTe ei.h!ee;.h 1 , '■'' '"■'"''"'™ '■" **= ^'~";!,":.,^ :!'"'.';" '"™"™^ '699, and a short .7«, the present chronicler is nil i„ a pos'iti'on" f^alf " CONTENTS BOOK I xrbe ®ufte'0 mwion CHAP. I. AT WRAY MANOR * • « • II. THE ABBE GAULTIER liKlNGS SOME NEWS III. IN THE CHANNEL IV. HOW THE FLEUR DE LY^ ARRIVED AT CALAIS V. HOW AMBROSE GWYNETT HAD A GOOD SLEEP VI. HOW MADEMOISELLE DAGUERRE PLAYED THE HOSTE.9S 41 VH. AT VERSAILLES • • . . VHI. YVONNE DE VALINCOUR IX. CONTAINING A SHORT HISTORICAL DIGKK.SION X. A PRIVY COUNCIL *■•••. XI. A STATE SECRET . XII. IN WHICH M. DE TORCY ASKS A GOOD MANY QUES- TIONS . XIII. AMBROSE GWYNETT DOKS A LinXE CAKPENTKV XIV. THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH TURNS AN HONEST PENNY PACK 3 12 21 26 32 48 54 64 6S 75 86 95 105 VI ContentB CHAP. XV. CAPTAIN KERMODE GETS A JOB XVI. A FA.MILY MEETING * • • XVII. CAPTAIN KERMODE MAKKS READY TO SAIL XVIH. c. -TAIN KERMODE CHANGES HIS CREW . BOOK ir tl Great Uieason THE ABBE GAULTIER IS SUDDENLY INDISPOSED THE CURE OF STE. MARIE GENESTE THE AfiBE GAULTIER MAKES HIMSELF GEN USEFUL . • • A DISCOVERY • • • A GAME OK HIDE-AND-SEEK AMBROSE CWYNETT SELECTS A LANDLOI THE BREST LETTER A LETT RE DE CACHET THE FOURTH BAZINIERE SETTLING THINGS XIX, XX. XXI. XXH. XXMI. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVHI. PACE 114 121 130 R\LLY 141 149 • 157 . 165 172 180 189 197 207 216 BOOK III XTbe atfatr at tbe 'Crown au5 aiicbor' XXIX. THE DUKE IN LONDON • ■ XXX. CHECKMATE • • • . XXXI. NEW YEAR'S EVE AT WRaY cOTTAGK . 221 . 227 X.XXIl. NEW year's eve AT THr < .m.^,..., ^vt AI IHE CROWN AND ANCHOR' . 246 XXXIII. THE ABBE IS VISITED Rv a« .K,or,. visutu BY AN INSPIRATION . .21;^ 'i- Contents CHAP. XXXIV. A VISION OF THE NIGHT XXXV. A FRIEND IN NEED XXXVI, A RIDE AGAINST TIME • • • t XXXVII. THE DAWN OF THE 6th OF FEBRUARY XXXVIII. MAIDSTONE EN FETE * • • • XXXIX. AT THE CROSS-ROADS ' • • • XL. THE ABI3E VISITS WRAY COTTAGE. Vil PACK 261 269 287 306 3M XLI. XLII. XLIII, XLIV. XLV. XLVI. XLVII. XLVIII. XLIX. L. LI. LII. 345 367 LAIS- BOOK IV B 3BI0 for JEmplre r A CELEBRATED SNUFF-BOX • t A TREATY OF ALLIANCE * • • A POLITICAL CRISIS WHAT M. DE TORCY HEARD AT CALAIS . UNCLE AND NEPHEW HOW M. d'oRLEANS RETURNED TO THE P. ROYAL . 376 THE ABBE GAULTIER IS THE RECrniENT OF A LITTLE CONFIDENCE • 389 THE ABBE ASSISTS AT A DOMESTIC TR^r.EDY . . 403 HOW LORD OXFORD LOOKED AT THINGS DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND IN WHICH MR. WROTTESLEY IS VERY MUCH SUR- PRISED . • 429 WHICH EXPLAINS CERTAIN MATTERS . , . ^.g LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS I I ii A VISION or THE NIGHT {pa^e 263) ON THE TERRACE AT WRAV MANOR " THE PLAGUE ! " "LOOK AT ME WELL, DEAR ARMAND "de torcy poured out a glass" THE DUKE AND CAPTAJN KERMODE "the BRIG DISAPPEARED" AT STE. MARIE GENESTE THE FOURTH BAZINIERE . "/ SWEEP or THE CHAIR" THE AMBUSCADE "the tolling of A bell" "the face of AMBROSE GWYNE "SPRANG UPON THE OVERTURNED COACH "it WAS A SEALED LETTER" "a blank SHEET OF PAPrR. " PAGK Frontispiece 8 29 56 82 "5 «39 »59 214 260 289 295 324 382 410 428 29 56 82 "5 ■39 >59 214 260 289 295 324 382 410 428 BOOK I ^be TbwU'Q riDiHion CHAPTER I AT WRAY MANOR One warm afternoon towards the miVlHU ^r A^ ^ squire Wray and his old friend Mr. Senrl s^ T^^' "' ''"' terrace of Wray Manor sioDintr fhl v ^ , ^°^^ ^at on the dinner of the period ^^ ^ ^^^'' "^'"^ ^^^^' ^he two o'clock For a week or more a sort of r«ri.- reigning, and both days and nkhts h'3 k"'""^^'" ^^^ been as in the hottest Augusl Mr sfinh k^'"? ^' °PPressive bination of official worry(in h s capLtv nf'r ^°""^ '^^ ^°'"- a fresh attack of gout and the .S ^ u( ^^Z^'S" secretary), somewhat too mu'ch"for"h^s tdur^e"" H ^ad'^c °' '^""'^"• come down on one of his occitinn.i ^\^^^ consequently where he was always welcome Tnh^l ""'fV ^^^ Manor, life-long friend, th'e finest 'S? fine gentlem^' ?'"'^^^ °^ ^ world j,ar excellence, and a vivadoKh^ ' ^ ""^^ ^^ ^he an mterval rather longer ?han usua had 'l? """r ?^"'°"' ^"t meeting of host and guest and fi- ^P'^? ''"'^^ ^he last or no time to bestow a share of h.-,"V'"'''''" ^^^ ^°"«d ''""le upon the squire. The later rleivwenfro^"' ^?"^«P°"dence rarely read a broadsheet, and was 1- "^ ' """'^ as Kta^k^thtl^o^^^^ observed St. John. Thanks to you," replied the squire, sent you a'montS'go^/"''"" '^'' ^"-the hogshead I swZ\\h\T^ivL^up alrho'r>fof/ ''' ^^ -ine-mercha„t again." ^ ^" "^ ^" ^^P^ of laymg a fresh stock down ■ Q« f k all -srL^rcairLv^;'.^, s^ljj'lo^*- *'• w. H ^ent Squire II .5 " I can't make out why it's so dear and scarce now the duty is removed." " Bless your innocent soul, squire ! What did the duty HMrtter? Nobody paid it so long as Kit Kermode and his frienH' wertj ready to run a cirgo for us whenever our cellars got low. But we take off the duty, to please the clubs and the parsons and the ladies in the Strand, and what happens ? Within a week the French government prohibits the export of their wines except in French vessels, and we're done." "I didn't hear of that." " Plague Mke them ! You see, the job now is, not to land a cargo re, but to get it on board in France in the first instance. And the infernal wine-shippers have got the trick of giving information themselves against the smugglers every now and then. That's how Kit has got into trouble- lost his last cargo and the lugger into the bargain." "That's a piLy," said the squire, with whom claret stood next in importance to the Protestant succession and tho nunolv of foxes. ^^^ " Yes. Just got his hold filled and putting to sea, when a revenue-cutter sends a shot across his bows, takes his boat and cargo to Maerdyk, and sells his wine for an old song back again to the very scoundrel he had bought it from, and that same scoundrel had given the tip to the coastguards himself. There's your son Noel, I see. Who ij the lady?" and the secretary pointed to a young fellow of seventeen or eighteen who appeared at the end of the lawn, walking beside a girl of about the same age. " My niece Avice— my sister's child. You haven't seen her lately." " Not for three or four years. And a charming demoiselle she has become, if my eyes are of any use at this distance. I make you my compliments. Anything between her and Noel ? " ** Plenty of time for that. They are only children." " Stuff ! You can't call a young fellow a child and worry me for a commission for him at the same time." "Noel hasn't forgiven your refusing him one in the expedition to Quebec." " The deuce ! Do you think I'd put any friend of mine under that triple idiot, Jack Hill "- You ought to know me better than that " "But everybody credits you ,n :.! k"u ig Mrs. i.iasham's brother tlie appointment to the cuinmand." St. John burst into a roar of laughter. a Ikent Squire j "Of course I did. But that was only because Rnh w i had been fool enouch to ref- S ,r L u °° ^^^^^V about it. in to that ILT ' i^''" '^^ P'"'^^! him Anne's bedchamtr-.^^" a^r& X'n* "' ""' h^T" of a Tory .inisCwjLte g a" ?V i™";'" w,S'.he^''^'' the fc,uirer""''"'''"^^^"'''^"''*y8^"i"8 ''- peerage," said whefherThave the Ld 7nrn,' ""'ft' "^""^^ ' I™'' know minister rafaed W, hat as SltZ ''' ''""' «ed,» and the steps of the terrace ''"""^ P^^P'^ ''^'"^ "P "-e sha'k?n7h'a„'ds''':rth the'f^?'',.^'' «'■ Mn, ' said Avice, knack *of ingratfafeg hUeTf'": ;2« f""""'' ''° ^"^ '"e di.K,„s of wSmen as'we'Is of'l^en "^''- '"'=■ ''"'' """ youfa::a''LTto''^Wfw1tr.:^' °" ^'^ J<">' "' "- befJerrro°;^>:!:id'°Nor " ^'•^''" °' "-- -«- youf:^tlf-suc'h"I Lrf^'ol a's^^en'e^^r^^?" ™T '^^ '° '« surprise me less than JZJ'JT'fl.^'l-. ."°'l' 'S would sunrise me,, ess tSa^to he. of^rf™kr;:i amps ana an.- ^' *"* "»-• « There is still Flanders .1^ e and if, as wVheV;rSo=LVse^SU",o:tr^^.."'-. I 'I H "Rent Squfre " Don't believe it. My lord Oxford wanted me to take it To be secretary for I would sooner lead piece of packthread. Gad ! of roses, without that, as war with a Bengal no : you a year ago — a likely thing the duke as lord-general ! tiger about the Mall with a the council is not a bed know." "We were very much alarmed for your safety when we heard of that outrage last April," said Avice. " Ah ! " said St. John, with one of his explosions of laughter, "that was a good thing for Harley— and all owing to me, as I tell him." " Who was that marquis de Guiscard ? " asked Noel. "No marquis at all, to begin with, but only the heir of one. The father is, I believe, a man of excellent standing, who disowned his son. But poor de la Bourlie was an abb^, at all events— all the worse for his abbacy, I should say. I don't know whose throat he had cut to make it necessary for him to leave his country for his country's good. But I helped to get him a colonelcy when he came over to England, and we were devoted — well, let us say fellow-topers." " An abbd a colonel ? " asked Avice, puzzled. " Oh ! a lay ahh6 only — an a&di commendataire ; court- patron of an abbey, in reality. It rains abb^s nowadays. We have Gaultier— a lick-spittle of lord Jersey's— for another ; and not long ago Menager brought over a certain abb6 Dubois with him from Paris — used to be tutor to the due de Chartres — a keen fox, if there ever was one." " But about your friend de la Bourlie ? " said the squire. " You are right — revenons. His regiment got cut off at Almanza, and his pay with it, so when Abigail and Bob Harley had jockeyed the Whigs, he worried all of us to get him a pension. Finally, although he and I had quarrelled over — ahem !— over a lady, I got him a pension of five hundred a year from the queen. Bob at once cut it down to four hundred. De la Bourlie was disgusted beyond measure, entered into correspondence with the French court as a paid spy, and was fool enough to get found out." " We heard something about that from Ambrose Gwynett — I mean," and Avice turned suddenly red, "from a friend in Spain." " Hang Ambrose Gwynett ! " roared the squire, with sudden furv. " By all means, as I don't know him," replied the accom- modating secretary. a •Rent Squire 7 "Go on with your story, my dear fellow," said the souire cooling down as suddenly as he had boiled over ^ ' "WeirsQu^rl 'oTlTnVJ' appears," said St. John 'to himself. wen, squire, our gentleman was arrested, with some com promising letters on him, in St. James's Park They brouX him straight to the Cockpit, where we were sitting late." ^ The reader may be reminded that the first lord of the ^easury's house n Downing Street (built by S r George Downing in 1564) occupied the site of the cockpit wSch was laid out by Henry VIII. for the palace of Whit^hLn and was still popularly called by its old designation. ' &S;ii&^-^ and before you could say Jack Robinson he^had mck BobTn the breast with a penknife. Bob falling on the floor~the bbS jobbmg at him with his penknife brokln short off-evei^bodv bawhng-Gad, sir ! you would have roared." ^^^^^ody eyes ^°" '^'''^ ^'' lordship?" said Avice, with wide-open " Not a bit of it," replied the candid secretary « T Mt Newgate the next day, and asked him why the devif h^ horrified '' '° "^'^'^'n^"' XO"?" exclaimed Avice, " Bw'^pojr r ,f P*1'"y''t'"'°"'" -^"""'^^ *e secretary. turnkeyTNtr S: ato'od%Srn"|L°'oS .f""' ^^^ pubHc at sixpence'^ftLr wZlJ^O" ^^owed him to the But Avice had fled at this last reminiscence, and Noel 8 H fcent Sautre ! \ followed her. Mr. St. John laughed and opened a fresh bottle. " I ought to have recollected that the ladies are squeamish about these things," he said. "The queen heard of the exhibition, and sent down orders for my revered chum to be buried forthwith. Rather hard on the turnkey, I thought." "Good-evening, squire," said a new voice behind them. The newcomer was a young girl of striking beauty, a brunette, tall and graceful, and of about seventeen years of age, who bowed slightly to St. John as she rested her hand on the squire's shoulder. " Ah ! my dear," said the old gentleman, turning round. " This is my friend Mr. St. John, from London. A neighbour of ours, Harry — mistress Muriel Dorrington." The secretary raised his hat with immense empresstment, pleading his gout as an apology for not rising. " They said Avice was with you, squire," said the girl, acknowledging Mr. St. John's salute. The squire pointed in the direction taken by his son and niece. " She and Noel have only just left us," he said. " I have a letter to show her. I will see you again." And the young lady went to seek her friend. St. John looked after her, apparently speechless with astonishment. At last he found his voice. " Heavens and earth, Wray ! Who is that girl ? " " Dorrington's orphan child — you must have known Dorrington." "Not I." "Oh! yes, you must. A Devonshire man, hand-in-glove with Melfort and Middleton and all the Jacobite tribe in the nineties. Used to spend half his time backwards and forwards between London and St. Germain before the ex-king died. He disappeared — let me see — sixteen or seventeen years ago." " Disappeared ? " " Yes ; left home one day and was never heard of again. His wife died broken-hearted six months afterwards, when Muriel was only a week old. A sister of his took charge of the child and brought her up." " A neighbour of yours ? " "After a fashion. Madam Rostherne rents our little QOTver'nouss across tne pjiric, a ray v^Ottage, anu used tO iive half there and half in London. Latterly she has been very little in town." fresh 1 ^^f{ciy^r- On tiik Tkhkack .,r Whav Manoh. -/'(7(/(' H. ! ii! a Ikent Squire I couldn't are your "That accounts for it, I suppose." " Accounts for what ? " Why, my never hearing of her. Gad, sir ! a face and figure hke that would be known all over the town in a week Never saw anything like it ! A perfect Kebe— simply superb ! " The squire seemed rather amused at his guest's enthusiasm. I am glad you are enjoying the claret," he said. " Don't be a fool ! I should be drunk indeed if tell a pretty woman when I see one. Where eyes, man? There isn't such another beauty in the three kmgdoms." "Well," said the squire, rat! er staggered, "of course, any- one can see the girl's nice-looking " II Hear him ! " remarked St. John, at large. " Nice-looking ! " But we hke her for her good-nature and her pleasant ways and her pluck— a rare girl after the hounds, Harry. Refuses nothmg. "Ah! Any fortune?" " She takes the Devonshire property at twenty-one if father doesn't turn up before then. There's no entail is a Chancery ward." " Engaged yet ? " "Some cursed nonsense of that sort has been but I won't hear of it, as far as I am concerned: Young Ambrose Gwynett, of Thornhaugh, on the other side of Wray Wood— a kmg James man, like his father." i! iu "?^ •^™' -^^ ^^^ ^^"^^ ^" the siege of Londonderry." A • ,f u^' ^° Gwynett's an orphan, like Muriel, you see. Avice will have it that was what attracted them to each other when they used to meet at hounds. Luckily the old woman— the aunt— detests him as I do." "Why?" "Why? Because she's a stout friend to the succession, or course. She refuses her consent altogether to her niece marrying a rascally Jacobite." « ".?"'^u yi^-^*', ^™P'y ^ ^^" to let a girl like that be put on the shelf in her teens by a nobody. I suppose the usual thing has occurred— this Gwynett is a misshapen oaf, just oy way of keeping things at an average." 'There you're out, as it happens. To give the devil his aue, a finer fellow to look at never trod in shoe-leather. I her She going on. always said the women drove their fooling after him ' Gone abroad ? e luni out oi tne counuy with N Nl i J! ^m ]i -( ,1! 10 a 1kent Squire I " He has an uncle in Austria, or Bavaria, or somewhere— his mother's brother. The last I heard— through Avice, of course— was that he was in Spain, with the French com- mander-in-chief. That's what your infernal pretender's men are good for." *• If you come to that, your Lothario has as good a right to serve under Vendome as Jack Churchill had to serve under Turenne— so long as he isn't opposite British soldiers. What do you or I care for the Imperialist party in Spain? Not a brass farthing, and you know it. The Spaniards them- selves back up the duke of Anjou, there's not a doubt of it." "Then what have we been fighting for, the last ten years ?" "Good Lord! to enable prince Eugene to spite the king of France, and Jack Churchill to fill his pockets, I suppose. Who is Noel bringing this way ? The abb^ Gaultier, confound him ! Why the deuce can't Harley leave me twenty-four hours in peace ? " The newcomer was a man of rather distinguished appearance, with features, complexion, and accent hailing from southern France. He was fashionably dressed in semi-military garb, carried himself with considerably more of the air of cavalier than of cleric, and spoke English fluently, with a certain marked peculiarity of voice which he would have been quite unable to disguise. " Your obedient servant, Mr. Wray," he said, as he came up. "Good evening, Mr. St. John." The squire shook hands, and St. John nodded. "I am sorry to intrude on your retirement," proceeded the abb^, " but my lord Oxford thought it needful to send you these despatches. I am to hold myself at your disposal to communicate them to the proper quarters." And he handed St. John an official packet. " Hang me if I'll look at them to-night," said the foreign secretary, with the freedom from cares of state inspired by his third bottle. " I can't write English after dinner, let alone French. To-morrow, my good sir, to-morrow — when 'the morn, in russet mantle clad, walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill' By the way, that reminds me. Any news of general Hill, M. Gaultier?" "Yes," replied the abbd. "I heard, just before I left town, of the return of the Quebec forces. They had arrived at Portsmouth— that is, what is left of them. Half the ship?; were lost off the Canadian coast, and two-thirds of the men. The expedition has been a total failure. Unfortunately, also, H tkcnt Squire tt ;eded the send you isposal to le handed '^B^H le foreign spired by let alone 1 hen * the yon high news of '^H re I left d arrived 4b the shin?; \l9 the men. m the admiral's ship blew up just as general Hill was entering port, three days ago." " There ! " said the secretary. " What did i tell you, Noel ? Reverence me as a prophet in future, I beg of you. Squire, can you put the abbd up till to-morrow ? '' "With great pleasure," replied the squire, with no very extravagant cordiality in his tone. "Noel, see to M. Gaultier's quarters." "You are very good," said the abb^, bowing. "May I present my respects to the ladies, whom I saw at a distance just now?" " We shall pass them," said Noel. The abbd walked off with his companion, and St. John turned to the squire. "I did not know Gaultier was a friend of yours," he observed, rather grimly. " He made the acquaintance of Muriel and her aunt in town, and called upon them at the Cottage afterwards, passing through to Dover. I was there at the moment, t Hon't like him." "Gad! you needn't— a greater scoundrel doesn't walk," observed the secretary. " You seem to tolerate him yourself," said the squire, rather annoyed. "What is there against him, and who is he? You may as well say all there is to say, while vou are about it." ^ " What there is isn't much. He's the son of a rich St. Germain merchant, who bought a little manor in Languedoc and set up as a lord of the soil. The son came over here years ago with mardchal de Tallard's embassy as a sort of tame chaplain. I saw him first when the king took de Tallard to the Newmarket spring meeting. The lot of us, royalty and all, just escaped being robbed by highwaymen by the skin of our teeth. On the road Gaultier made himself useful to lord Jersey m some disreputable way or other, and insinuated himself mto the family— the countess is a Catholic, you know. Found his quarters comfortable, and stayed on, after de Tallard went home, to turn an honest penny as a French spy, eked out with what he got for reading prayers in comte de Galas's chapel." "Pah!" said the squire. "Vvhen Abigail and Harley got us into office, we wanted someone to go to de Torcy and open up negotiations for peace— someone too obscure to attract attention, you know, It a -Rent Sqiure rTLt^n^rcTuti^^^^ ' '"'^'^ -"^ --H- Jersey "Heaven 'hll? ^°'' ^n^ong you," commented the squire trraTor'Hrhnp^^^^^^^ us ?1 this yea" Of cT ^'' k^ ^."'''^^^^•^ ^"^ forwards for When ? came to That dTVn' ^°''"'^ '^^"^"^ "^g^^'^^^- Menager to meet Matt Prin? 7 ^ ^ f "u' .r^' ^ ^^"^''^ M. anotto S^?°'" '"" "'^ <^'^sus.ed . juire. " Shall we have " Of course," repUed the secretary. CHAPTER II THE ABb£ OAULTIER BRINGS SOME NEWS Nod'a«S°hfs"'reauesfT 'th^'l'^'^ '"P '" confabulation with Muriel?" ■'°""- ^^^^ ^^ you say, ab!ood?hK'mon"'er 't^^^^^^ 'T' ^^-^y' "'^^^ ^^^ -« of vn„ • " 'o^^ .^n^^'- ^".^^^ meantime, it will be verv nice Avic7aboit " ^" ''''^'' '^'"^"^'^ ^'"" ^^'"^^^'"g to talk to H Itent Squire ,3 At this moment a servant came up and delivered a messaee to Noel. He turned to the two girls ;' I'", be more than nice," said he. " I'll not only go away arrived "^ ^^"'^'^^ ^''''^ "^'^^ "'''• "^ ^^« J"^* u "n'^i^^i !°""^f P'^omising," observed Avice. « I expect I shall find him charming. It will be quite pleasant to meet a man who is different to Noel." HnnKi" 'J""^ ^*"i'" ^^^^..Noel. "so that I shall enjoy the double pleasure of providing Avice with one agreeable com- panion, and Muriel with another-to wit, myself-for the rest ^L*?^^ ^T'5^-^ .^"^ ?^ y°""S man, delivering this Parthian shaft, walked off after the retiring servant " Who is this abbd Gaultier ? " asked Avice. « Do you know him ? I don't." ^ " Aunt knows some relatives of lady Tersev's in town " replied Muriel. "Two or three times /he^we' supped w^ them this gentleman was there. He fastened upon me at once-I suppose he had heard that I should have a little property some day." "^ an?nhn,?'?!f ^^^- ^^^^ ^°"°''''" '^'^ ^^'c^, who cherished envv ?nr h. i'^^'T^' ti"^t"^«d by a reasonable spice of envy, for her friend's attractions. "You didn't suonose anything of the sort in Ambrose's case " ^^ too'dXtfwordr '''' """"'' "'' ^ "°^" ^" ^^^ --P--" yo:ii^wi"^t;^:t^f '^ ^''"^^^^ you fbr yourself; " rhat alternative is a little more hateful than the other Anyhow, he made several opportunities of seeing me then he became complimentary, as I presume he considf r^ft.' Twice when you were away in Devonshire, he called at the CoS ^^'is?rote?r-°" ''' ^'^ '^ '-^- - ^^ -^' " F^LVpir? ''"^ *° ^^" ^°" ' ^^^' ^^^ ^ ^^"- '' .hrlfl%A^^J!i°"lH.°'^' I'. <=ame by way of France. 1 "'."J' J^^=cy s inends. You know they get letters from bt.^ Germain pretty regularly." ^ ^ " Any particular news—that I may hear ? » H a "Rent Squire princesse is really a woman nf Urfu l - J^^^y ^^^ to^ducheas Sarah, and Mrs. Masha^t'ol' :ve';"'L''tr dau'2rJf.:1e;'guat;''T?' ""'«■" "^ ■'■^<''<' » ''<«P«'= for in this same vear, famous pohtical adventuresses, Of a Liv^nr ^qSr^ter! Sw" o'fTtS' r^""'' Catharine of RuSa ^'""' "^ ''''=™' ""a empress "n"lri;f ,'' ?'^ commission ?■• asked Avice. ^ Juriel handed her companion part of the letter, and Avice I can only sayTt iro"f„lom ,™." '^''^'''^ """8 P"^''"- ought „„t\ h'ave teenVhced nTSr' But £ ' "'l" —I mean the actual Roval na,.v .i,.f ■ i . ' P'^P'" queen, and madame dS firs &Iseem tn 'hj''''' ^'f ' '''= no one upon whom thev rln ,fi ''"' absolutey pas,y-&rts s^vLxSs wi;: S,t.K e from the H sorts of anish army en staying 1 entrusted a •ftent Squire icularly au , compre- ich means eality, she lot P—that a mistress Vance by Only the r^mouille. ir second different le widow trooper's ituresses, daughter dragoon, !t herself empress tting sail what he d Avice explana- ; person. I think e people :ing, the (solutely This is hey can 5ss, and It back t% to France a year ago, in order to ma r court Dt ular about a httle danger. But if anything goes wrong n h s affa.r ,t may prevent your hearing from me for some ti^e Do not let my possible silence after this letter lead you to think I am any the less your faithful lover, Ambrose Gwynett. ♦t,f *?*~^^ ^^ any channel you can write to me to the care of A. G." "Dear me ! '' said Avi-e, "that sounds rather alarming Surely he should have arrived before this." -'irmmg. "We do not know when he actually started. But I can't help feehng anxious." ;;0f course he will come from Calais to see you?" ...J " °u^ ^'""^ ^ ""^"^^^ ^° t^'k to you about. My aunt is as much set against him as ever, and will not receive him ; your uncle, of course, the same." "It is not in the least his business." "Perhaps not; but my aunt looks to him for advice in everything, and he has always been very good to me-— -^ «< WK f u "^ u ^"^ ^^ ^'^ y°" "°t "ly oWest friend ? " What has that to do with him? Still, he is very kind- so kind that I don't want to vex him if I can help [ No7 tf we go to join you at our Devonshire place^next week' as we arranged " ^ ^^'^' "As you promised." "I can only hope to see Ambrose at the risk of som^ qu^arrel between him and your uncle, if they hfppenedT "But you know it is always uncle who nerform^! th^ quarrelling; Ambrose never does anything but p^ut on a little more of his magnificent politeness." ^ "^ That is just the worst of it— it makes your uncle angrier btMTance th^sou" T' '1^^"^^^' ' 'hink Thte^rg «^v n u ■ ^^"•'■^ ^^'"g t»etter pleased." Well, what is to be done?" or 'toe wels" tM^' '•!! ^°" \""\^^^" '" Devonshire two or mree weeks— that will give Ambrose time to come here "'tw^'"' ^ ^''^' "°^ ^^^" ^^ for two years!" 1 n..t was your own fault." "My fault?" " He would not have gone away to baron von Starhemberg's i6 a *cnt Squire If you had not agreed with your aunt that there should be no reguar betrothal between you till you were of agj^' ' p i uJ'""^' ^"^ Ambrose himself said that aunt facr firrn^'^ '"""^ "'""" "P°" "^^' ^"d ^hat some temporary sacrifice on our part was due to her~he knows I owe everything to her care and affection. But what doTou say 5^" vet tnS ^°;i' ^°'"1"^ "'^ .^°"'' trouble-we haven't gone yet, and goodness knows when we shall, if Mr. St Tohn thei^bi^TsL':'' ""^ '''^'' ^°^'' ^^' ^-^ ^^ " I think I will go home now." to "st?y.» "'^'"' ""^ ^°" ■' ^^^ ""^ ^^^^ ^"^ '^ ^he abbd intends n,a^rl ^"fr ^'''"''r' ''^'"^ "P- The abbd, in spite of the . mask of self control acquired by a lifetime of intrigue, couJd not conceal an mtens.ty of passion in the glance he nV^^ upon Mur^l, which made the latter tremble wi?h dislike and h"ers"lf ^But'th^ - f. place Avice between Gaultl'; ana herself. But the abb^, m the course of a few minutes' conversation, managed to get the party so divided that Muriel was practically /efe-d-fe^e with him Mademoiselle," said he, " I am delighted to meet you so opportunely. If .t had been otherwise. I should have made to Iv °w'^^^^^ ^°" '' ^'^•f, ^°"^S^' ' have some informS to give which I am sure will interest you " Muriel looked straight before her with a rigid face. ^^ That IS hardly likely, M. I'abb^," she said It concerns Mr. Dorrington, your father " ^^Muriel turned instantly. The abbd smiled an imperceptible "Zej>remier/>as," he said to himself. " My father ? " n^n^y^'" '^r^ ^^'.y ""^ y^""" ^^ther's strange disappearance mich so^^1r7^ impression upon me when I he??d U^so "ccted to me." "^''^ "^"""^ ""''''' '" ^^^^^ ^"^^^^ ^hat '' With any result, sir ? " "None, as it happened. But, curiously enough, a couole of days ago your father's name was mentioned quite acd dentally by a man who formerly knew him- an^old bodv" servant to the late general Talmash " "^^ ^ My father's foster-brother, I believe." Mr DorSfAn'^""^'' Tf ^" extraordinary attachment between Mr. Dorrington and the general, it seems, and they lived A re should be of age." i that aunt ne temporary :no\vs I owe lo you say ? " haven't gone Ir. St. John ! your friend abb^ intends spite of the rigue, could nee he cast nth disHke. ;en Gaultier iew minutes' ivided that leet you so have made information ;e. iperceptible appearance eard it, so uarter that , a couple quite acci- old body- tit between they lived much together. May I ask if you know when vnnr r.^u was last seen or heard of? " "^" ^"""^ ^*^*^er "On one of '' first days in May, 1694." I hat agrcLi with what I heard. 'I'he conversation w.c emn? "f ""'".' /"'^^ °' ^^7"«^'^' ^^ this Jd'S^r-^ servant at the club-was asked about it. He STid h^ had never known but one man who could perform the f^.r •n question. That was squire Dorrin«ton ind h h.H cametik^' '''' °^ ^^^° '"'^^ '^ wen^^"' l^'it^and'n:rer I c:r ;y%s^:: i:^:^^ ^-^ ^^-^ ^^-- of course. to undSan^tiur^^^^r^f^rr °' '^'^^'"^ ^'^"^ « M,w T ^ j"Juniey 1 mean, at that uarticu ar t h-ie ? " told him hin,self he was star^nl. for Fr ^^' ^'- ^^^'•""gto" "That would be in war-tiS " unexpectedly." afteMh'Z^'" ''''' "' ''^^"•^' ^'^ "°^ <^°-- till three years ;; Do you thi^nk he might have been taken prisoner ? " I undent nT'Mr. Z^ ^^^^ ^f ^ ^-^^—d safe, in the ordinary coS of thinlsStH ^"^Tr"^^ ^^ be made." " =»« 01 mmgs. btill, a mistake might .h:ipa„ifhTuSordid'„o7bLr: ^^i:^'' -^- '•^■»■' ••■BO. He would surely have been rLl J , f'l °'. '""•' y^"^ prisoner of war?" "''^'""'' '^ ■"= had been a imprfso„e3"o',; othe'Tr^ufJ'' '^"'r ^"i,"' "^' ^ave been happened." ^ ""''' ' '" "^"^ ""y """gs may have had^S'rth^tdThVb^heTThTr n "' "--■ «"» have perished by some ob' ure accident or f^n""^' '■'";" to violence. But if f;i„if,X ? ^^^'o^nt, or fallen a victim possibilitv nith" .K ,^'^"' f'^ ^;^r*: correct, there seemed , other hanilh^' had an' im'fn i ^ f^^ '"^^'"'"S" ^n the was inclined to ti-.-rrts^;:S;^^^^:^n^^ li iS a Ikent Squire n easeriv *'" Mv"lS™, ™' greater pleasure," said the abbe cdi,criy. My present journey to Paris \vhi>h h^, fU^ as a secret-affords n.e an immedit^te"op;or unity Vfat'di events, initiating some investigation " ^ ' assSce.''' "°' '''' ^"^''^^^^ ^" -J-'-g the proferred "You are very good," she said reluctantly " Mv pnnt might be able to furnish you with some slight in o mation aC ment tt^nfT''"?.'"' ""^. ^° ^°^^h, at That date, to suppTe- ment that of this old man in London." ^^ I will not fail to see her on the subiert hpfnr. t resume_.y journey. I hope ..ost ferveml^^tr 'yo^Ta^e! A happy thought flashed through Muriel's niind .im„l =;pi;=,s-s-eV^^-?¥5 cU'L!;ic''aten.itf ^,^1^ bfnteans^^Mr-'s't ^fot™^ 1 offices and urge him to'^underuke.h^ quest ^ hI' ,1?,°' StaVii^ueL-r %^.nt €kB t^f :r r sZlfn'chT"' 'h '" -" ""he'lit:? toThf i,^s on 'tht «?orh,?l;" e"" "^™'='' ""-'^^ ^'^^^0 *e words .ro:Se" ;rt 'Ih7i;;:;tef JriniL^; r Lr^ "' -r or friend of our family to look nto A. ?h "'^"'^^'' ;™ Srttii - - °He1>'ie*e o? i=rS - onJ'borass™i;r "'' '°"""-"' '"" '"^^ '^^' "^""'^ ^rn'.f'"'" '»/"":'i°yed to hear that it has proved of servirf " N^e, a^d^hircL™'" '"' '-''''' "^ ">=' --loin^riiy Muriel turned to Avice. " We have not finished our gossio " said ^h^. «« t ^^r^Z. S/"' ' '- »™"-'aw" ''l win'saTs'oo'd" coS^sSr:;ir^-;!;s-»--^^!s:SJ;^ i i purpose of ice » she id the abbe by the way, ty of, at all e proferrcd "My aunt nation about , to supple- ;t before I your sake, lind simul- undisguised a few days, deavour to ohn's good His letter rcise some anxiety for the abbe the words ight not to a member 'i time, we nformation bbd could f service," joined by 1 want to say good smile he i went ofl". B -Jkent Squire i^ The abb^ decided that it was a fnvnnrnKi^ elicit some useful information ^^^^^''^ble opportunity to . hl^""/ ^° congratulate you?" he said to Noel drawina a^dXi^e ' ''"^""' ^"' ^°°^'"^ significantly atrMud'l! tobS^j-K'-^lSI^^ " wu S'^'S' ^ ""^^'•^^^"d, as well as a beauty ? " ^ V\ho? Do you mean mistress Dorrington ?" no. need a fortune to nlt^ h r ^Jract^e"" X° M ^V °^' As to mademoiselle Dorrington she ifnl^!',^'^ ^^'■''''■ I understood the town ToC\r,4t -hn; /''''''"?"''''=''' '' say the gentleman's namfS ™ltpVd my memo?'.^"^' '° into l^:Zl' "° "''"" "^^^^"^"'" -"--kerffi, falling "Dia/j/e/" said the abbd tn hi'mc^if «c , , . rsrt-'ii^,— 'i S ~ --? Dornngton's marriage, I fear ? " ^ mademoiselle "Why?" ^' matters " unless 1 am mixing up i. wat somior:'b?:;d ■?"' '°"' °' '"^ """^ ='"y- I bought NcilSCS'ntt" ''"But'wet'"'"-^ 'T °' '"'- y---" said to return ahnos*; j^nfeSLJdy""''^ '"^' *''"" """ "^^ '"'™ds had'^gtf S.";hetfen:a.fon 'r''^' " "!'"'«'" *« ^'^b^' "ho M. Noel, I win ITyo '°o excure'me P^'"' "^ •"^^ and have writing to do hef™. i ', ''™ "^'y "red. for me to the ladies In ■ "''" «" '° '"^'^- Apologise passing." '^"''- ' "'" J"« =P'=ak to Mr. St, John in •■G'ood"„iSif;'ou'^rus.'"go.'"^ '"*"'^ "^-^■" -'<• No.,. 20 H Ikeiit SQuire M ! .. "Until to-morrow " said the abb^, bowing as he went off. ^o! he said to himself venomously, "it is M. Ambrose Gwynett, of Thornhaugh— what devils of names .'—who is in tne way. All the worse for M. Ambrose Gwynett, of Ihornhaugh. Muriel Dorrington is for me, M. Gwynett— for me, Armand Gaultier, if a hundred of you stood in my path ! And the abb^ disappeared in the entrance hall of the manor. Meanwhile Muriel was seated at a little escritoire in Avice'- room, hnishing a letter. The concluding sentences ran : " I^o not lose this opportunity, dear Ambrose, of doing vvluit IS possible to set at rest the sad uncertainty which has w-eighed upon us for so many years. Much as I long for your return, I sliould feel myself an unloving and unfaithful daughter if I did not urge upon you to undertake this task before anything else —even the happiness of seeing you again. Your loving Muriel." "I suppose I must say nothing about Mr. St. Tohn?" dehbeiated Muriel, with pen in hand. " Good gracious, no ! Do you want us to be all hung drawn, and quartered for corresponding with the enemy ? " " If there has been any minister of state for the last twenty years who has not corresponded with the enemy, he must be quite a curiosity," said Muriel, who was not without a smattering of contemporary statecraft. " But can we ask him about it to-night ? " Avice had a certain familiarity with the convivial habits of the secretary for foreign affliirs— habits which, it is only fair to say, were shared by three-fourths of the public men of his clay, and were at that period not regarded as in any way derogatory to good breeding. "Not the least use in the world," she said. "About this time he has usually the best reasons for sitting in an arm-chair and m an hour he will have eciually good reasons for lyini,' down In the morning he will be perfectly himself again, and I will explain the whole matter to him. Finish with your letter, and I will take charge of it." ^^ Muriel folded and sealed the letter, and addressed the cover lo Ambrose Gwynett, esquire, to the care of his excellency the governor of the port of Calais." "Imnress upon \fr "^fr Tohn Hptt " ^-h-^ -r,;-' "-t • • ■ ,,' v!i— -- -»-i j'lir,, aear, ^ne aaiu, that it Should go under a separate, private cover to the governor and that I specially desire that M. Gaultier knows nothing he went off. /I. Ambrose —who is in jwynett, of Gwynett — tood in my nee hall of e in Avice's ran : a meat SciiUre 2t Say good night for me about it. Anc now I will go home, to the gentlemen." ^^^Kl^ parted at the entrance to the gardens, and Noel escorted Muriel to the Cottage. In the morning a servant brought over a note from Avice to the effect that the abl^e Gaultier had departed for Calais canymg Muriel's letter in a sealed cover from Mr. St. Tohn to the governor. ■' ' doing what has weighed our return, I ihter if I did nything else ving Muriel." It. John?" all hung, enemy ? " last twenty ■, he must without a re ask him ! habits of 1 only fair nen of his ' any way Vbout this arm-chair, for lying again, and with your the cover, excellency " mac It governor, i nothing CHAPTER III IN THE CHANNEL Night was falling over the English Channel. Vast drifts of fog were swept across the sea by a gentle breeze from the vvest, and the pale disc of the moon, just rising, was reflected llZV'"'"'"''^" °" '''' '^°P'' °^ '^^ ground-swell from the Midway between Barfleur and the Isle of Wight a smill brig was making its way towards the Straits of Dover h was of foreign build flying the French flag, and on the s'tern IKe n'i' "^ ''"'" "' ^"'^' ^""^^ ^' distinguished FLEUR DE LYF, De Marseille. The sails were dilapidated, and some of them partly carried away. A good deal of the standing rigging hL dama ed and the maintop-gallant mast, with its Vrd and sail, lay Tc'^os; the deck in a confused heap. Part of the bulwa ksVn t^'e ort side had been swept away bodily, and another portion vvas^ hanging over the side and swinging with each roll of the ^sSV^tS'^""^' ''?'V° '^'^ ^'^""'' ^^"° motionless forms rn In f One of. these was dressed in the garb of a unlike most of his fashionable countrymen of that date he wore his own hair instead of the portentous wig of the period! 22 B Ikeiit Squire ^'e!^r;r -delist ^ ^'^'' ^l ^-^ -"'^en eyes his head resting uneT Hy on h is a™ Ti^'^^^" '^'^ ^'^^' some short interval of sleen tHp r . f ,'^^^'"8 '" ^^'^ with one arm doubled un^e?" hii^lrwlt^J'^ °" ^is face, towards the officer. ""^ ^^^ ^'h^'" stretched out drifts o'f%:argTe o£?' 'A^" ^° '^^P^^ between the his elbow, and^otdtt"L'c"tah'r"Th!'°^ ^^^"^^ - feet, took the sailor by the arm In / ^u• ^^ ^ot on his at his face. The Catalan Ts' dead t^ over to look ^HaHth' ^"' '""^^ ^- fac'int'-hanS,: °^"^ ^^' ^-" offiS; r^L'rd wenTt" tK'' '"f ^'^ "'^'^^ ^^^^ «"• The It seemed ' to re^u" o no 'iterat.^'n' XT' \''' ^'^'P'« ^«"^^-- for some weight, and havinft ^ ^^'^" ^^^ ^^"'^ed about fastened it to^ the sailo 's ?fet .hh ^ '"'" ^.°^^'^ ^"^^or, done, he dragged the bodv to Hp i . ^'"^^ u°^ ^^P^" ^his poop and tried to hf' it over H,. f''"'u ^""^'"''^ «^ ^he for this, so he pushed i? dn.. '^"^^^ '^^^ insufficient followed it slowly anSvv^fhHTS T '^ '^^ "^^'" ^^ck, and There he wa oppos e tTe oface'l^ ^"T" '^' P^op-'adder away, and it was^easy to push th^f 'h' '''" ?'' ^^^ ^^"'^^ appeared in an instant ^ ^'^''^ overboard. It dis- cabinVntr^e 7oot "Hrt"-^"V- J"?^^^ ^^^ -P^-n's ship's biscuits andTflask of ,Wn/?f ^'k^.'^''"^^'^ ^'^^ s°"^e him to the poop, together w^th^in "r ^' '"^"^ ^^^^k with he wrapped hin se?ff ay dJ^n nn°l^ 'fu''''^ '^''^- ^" ^^is and munched his hi cuL Eve v n/ '^'/l^'^'^ bulwarks, went to examine the comnass th^l" ^f l^^" ^^ ''''^ and heen lighted. The w?nd E teadilT? °^ ""k"''^ ^'^ ^^'^'^V and the ship kept on her coSL^l^^Sfd'e"' i^n""" ^""^^^' win^J^mo?:'d^srs:Sb:/^l?e^oT -^^^ when .a sail appearl^d on he' wes ern h"o™ "^' ^'" "^'f^-y' for a meal, and returned with f telescZ ' "^'"^ ^^^°^^ he m:de"h:^rtoTerDufc,rp'''^^"^'■^'-"^ ^- ^'^'ock -ucket-oFp— -SeSr-^kl^-;^ I sunken eyes on his side, ^ing in vain on his face, tretched out between the , leaned on got on his )ver to look r sat down ^ on. The ip's course. )ked about :'s anchor, 3pe. This irk of the insufficient deck, and op-ladder, as carried . It dis- captain's vith some xick with In this bulwarks, rose and i already ■ quarter, d. The i the fog e officer ini(^-day, U below o'clock 5o tons, isidered fetched ; yellow a ment Squire 23 signal flag from the cabin, he stretched it out flat and oainted on It, m letters a foot high, the two Dutch words ^ PLAAG— HULP -meaning respectively "plague" and "help." K. ii ' M f ^""^"^ ^° ^^^''^"^^ ^^'s feeble strength. He was barely aule, after u was accomplished, to haul down he FreS flag flymg at the peak. This done, he lay down on the deck and waited events. "^^'^' The galiot came up hand over hand. At four o'clock iust as the light was beginning to fade, it was abreast of the E on the port side. A hail was heard, of which the officer fnnt no notice. The Dutch crew crowded to the side of the g^ot which came nearer. The hail was repeated. El citinfno response, a consultation seemed to take place on the SliSt which resulted in a flash from one of her norts ond hi SlI T "'«;' '°""'"'"^ ^*^^°- ^he bowsof theX;5^zt Still the officer remained passive, lying on the deck of the hnV and watching the galiot from 'behind the buhvarks Iri a couple of minutes the galiot steered direct for th. h- ^t^^^ tt -^J^7?!^o.Jn^ htldU'n sa!: inis adjusted the speed of the ea ot tn th-^t r.f tUc j • 1 brought her within a^hird of a cfuS length " ''"«' ""* "Crfes^o/af"' °"'' 'T- ^"-'ng '" t°re *rie" w5 linn Tl 1 ^""^ "'*' '^"'^ "» fo"0«ed this t-xh"bi ion. Ihegahot ported her helm, passed under the stern nf the bng, and came up on her starboard side. The officer tnof istran°d ha d^itTn"?,' t'^'!.''™^ """<' 'is ntruXr throw it' fmo ftesJa " ""' ^'"^' ^"P="^'"'>' '" «=='diness to sopfa^zy-t5:^st;;-i-T:^/^^ Srbo^fo? th"e '^.,zi:z^:.^^'^''T^■^^^^^^^^ and commenced to t?w the ^W S Z,,' '=""°' '°'^'^ '''''''• of un^re^r^'Hrrttrwar^rdr °r" i^^^ ^-' saw out of the forecIst^P h,? f, ^'""^^'^ " '^^"^''" ""d them ■■sirin '7, ™;'='^"'*'«' but after some consideration bin were t'rained to "ports" cMe'^l'T ^«-P°™der guns which .nulargun o'X^oorto Ictt a^^nfJI^^'^S,^ H U IF^ent SqiUre the armament of the brig With creat effnrf h« a ^ . guns up to a level whirh of \u ^ , ^ "^ wedged these would bring hem to b;a/on hr''"i,^'''^^^^ °^ '^' g^'>°^ began to be^ver^ung by the stern /nl'l^^'^'^xf' ^T ''^''' ^^ examined and renlenishpH fL /^ ^7' ^^^^ '^e carefully This done helav dovvn n .• ' \'"^ "'"P'^^ed ^he aprons state of extreme exhauJtL^'"i^^/:r'^^'"^ '"'^ ^^'^^"''y '" ^ the air was murky ^^ ^''^^" ^° ^'°^^ '"' and a n"nrgleam t" '^1?,^ '^^ '"^he gloom, and only The officer took a htUe /noH r?'" 'r^'-'f'^ ^^' P^^'^'O"- binnacle-lamp Then he Z; fn 'T'""^'^"^ ^'^^ °'' '" ^he rope by whicf JXtllsl^.^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^-^^^ the Unftr'tun'tLi; °v"fth[n"?^ '^ ™°^"'"^'" ^^ ^o^'^oquised. couple of polS^hTa "cleaTed"3^the^'l- T' •''^^"^^^ '-^ in sight. The full moon woe ' ^he galiot agam appeared moving on the calioT Th T ""^- ^^ '«"''"' ^"^ ^'ghts were for some hours. The mnnn r^.^uu .,^^y a"" the horizon rose, went to the forene'^a\o'Snd''arn"d-shX" sse"d1l;™^^^rT *-' "-" °' just over the officer's head ^ ""^h the brig's foresail, Th'^latTshonerdTail^a^ndTh 'If '' T^ '° "'"-'f- overtake her. A second Lrw^ffi J""'/' ^'^^ ''^B^" '" under the starboard catheaSs '''■''^' ""'^ '""''' *e brig He''sighw"^Lrg:no.''s";*di'er"Td\?r "" '""'""' B™- fired. The brig wa aL,l ,' """=^"™«"''^ P^u'ie seeonds the Por.'gur;as'ar:,;"fhe"slrspo.'°ff °' Its turn was fired The hri.T ^n^ P°'' ^bis m phot, and the lalterf MnglXr Z.'° J "or^" "' "j^ helpless. ^ auucner snot, fell off apparently '' ^ooks like a hit," muttered the officer " Th«„'ii u to heave ^o f 1] thev PTn - <■ ^u ■ omcer, Ihey'll havp comes the fog." ^ ^'^ '^"' ^"^^^^ ^^P^'^ed, and here ^dged these f" the galiot, St where it le carefully the aprons, idently in a 3se in, and 5, and only f position. oil in the irough the [uised. hanged a appeared ights were hecked in e former ccessfully itchman. e horizon • About ned, and le officer , and cut ■ poop of > foresail, limself. Jegan to the brig ird gun. :'s pause 'uple of This in of the Jarently 'II have id here a Hicnt Squire 25 He went to the wheel and took his stand by it. The mist came up and covered the sea, and the gahot, now half a me of., disappeared. Her course, when last seen, was inX cEs ?oVcL"r' ^' ''' '°'""^^- '^^^ ^^'-^ ^^^'^' up The hours of the night wore slowly on. The officer oppressed by a burning fever and an infinite weariness, passed the time between standing at the wheel and lying propped up against the taffrail. ^ '^ H'^ppt.ii up ^^f''}/''^ o'clock he left the wheel to go down the poop-^^adder As he was descending his strength failed h m and he fell heavily to the deck. Here he lay motionless fo; twenty minutes or more, his face upturned to the canopy o impenetrable mist overhead. A little rain began to fall %he drops splashing on his face revived him. He rose with difficulty, reeled into the cabin, and sank into the arm-chair t^ apartment.' ''' '''' '^''^ ^'''^' ^-"P*^^ ^'^ --t of It was several minutes before he could rise and go to the locker where h.s meagre provisions were stored. Here he found biscuits and another flask of wine. The former he fonnH impossible to swallow, but he took a drink of the CaSan wme, and turned to leave the cabin. Glancing through the port, something attracted his attention, and he lookS A ship whose bulk loomed gigantic through the thick mist She was so close that he wondered their yards had not locked Over her side four faces appeared, all bent with eager and noTIe galiot.'"' "^°" ^'^ ^"^^^ ^^^^ '' '^' ^"g ^ was As the officer looked up, he saw the tallest of the men ooen his mouth to hail, when his neighbour stopped him wiTa ernfied gesture, and went away^ A minufe afterward the m St '^At Z^'"' '''' '';r^' ^"^ '^' P^^^^d away ?mo the mist At the moment of her disappearance the officer caught sight of the name, J^oya/ Mary, on her stern. ° ' He ascended the poop-ladder with infinite difficulty and PostattheX'^T '^°"' '^""S backwards, to resume h"s fel and a so?t o ■h.h'°"' T^ '° '™^ ^^ ^^^^>'^d ^"^ almost leii, and a sort of delirium began to steal oyer him ^-.coup.coi hours after sunrise the fog lifted and the sim shone brightly over the sea. Almost out of sl^ht in the north-east, towards Dover, the sails of a ship glei'med whUe PS i f I a6 H Ikeut Squire T'?V^^^ ^'""^ horizon. This was probably the stranger Ahnn? th!'t u ^. P"""^' r'^cognised as Cape Gris-Nez theTesfnar rof%n'h'''"''^' ''"-^"^ ^'^^ ^^^"^'^"d lay for' 117U i_P " "°"'" unconscious. When he came to himself the sun was high in the heavens rning'-f ec' %. ^h^r ""'" °"' """ '"^ ""^ »- lli! II 111 I k CHAPTER IV HOW THE FLEUR DE LYS ARRIVED AT CALAIS M. Raoul Daguerre. governor n^ roio.c. • • faHer M I, "'"""°1 ''='' "''■"='"')' ^een made. To he latter M. Daguerre owed his post as governor of which h^ d.si X"of S;- d"e^5ai„r„o'^™™'^' -^ '^^ -''"'" Ibe w-orthy governor's want of orthodoxy did not Drevfn^ a ppre^d-hrtht^^^^^^^^ V toir? 'To'r This'" ""'""''•'" daughterind on^h'^i'^ her invent schon%rrf P,"'™,' "°" '■■"""cipatcd from ho;,sX,d?'.h: rhl?:^„ix^r'':;pSdtt sr'^ have to be severe with her." --'^-""e. i shall xeuliy a Tkent Squire ay The cur^ was a man of about sixty years, with silverv ha.r the physique of an athlete, and the fk^e ofTn apoltle He had spent two-thirds of his hfe as a missionary and whin summoned home had been given his cumcy U^rough^he governor's Inrea't. '' '™"'"^' '^ "•^' ^ -"P^^ ^° the " Don't brag pfere Anselme—you know you spoil her more laTocul^L^'du roi'" .^ r ' ^^°"^ '°"' -^ madTm" la procurcuse du roi would have some moderation in her conc'eT¥tef Ss""- ^^ '' > " '^ ^ questiororbJ?!: I verily 'bdLvl'i^' '°"''"'' ''''^' ^'^^^ "'S'^ts a week,' ''Per contra she works well at her studies, and your house is no worse off than before, I take it." ^ " RMr!,''if "'^"^'T ^" everything, p^re Anselme." |u we have only one youth, my dear governor." F..,^ fT^^ ^^^ ^^^ '"Merited from her mo'her , tlemmg of Brabant. She curtsied to the priest Sed her father, and took her place at the head of the table ' " 1 am considering the question of your return to the Viri""* '°">'. P^'! Anselme has disappointed you " reolied ""fhTcurrSCfHtd. "■" "■'" "-^ ™'™^'' '=<'"«"^- " Not at all— it is this inordinate pleasure-seekincr whirh T h;^'cu";rt?e7' -^---"^." '-^^ *e go^t^o^pSn' tone^^'-V'seemrtC ^^'''Ih^ his daughter, in a philosophic my dear Jatl'er^ "' " ""■'^"■^"''^ compliment to yourself, pr:S;n'SoTse*e^''^'™"''«= "' "^'"^ -conveniently curt^nolIp'"'Hr''' ''?"='"ept very few invitations, and M le Pa"mela";?-ri^ra?,Thr"^^^^^^ triDuie to your popularity in the fnwn^ cl " ,".'^'^' ^y ''^y "^ of the Dains M li^r.„ri k "' second, in recognition cultivatfonof mvmLd ZZT'^''^''^^^ ^^^^^^^^ °" ^he vctuon 01 my mmd, and third, as a personal compliment a8 a fkcnt Qciwivc II IN " Quod era/ demonstrandntn," said the curd. Victoire bowed gravely. "I fatigue myself to acknowledge these well-deserved coni- ttnkedf^ir '°'''" ^'^ "^"^ °"' "^"^^ ^ ^- -' "- " There is no doubt mademoiselle is hardly used," observed me cure. lo accept martyrdom, and to be criticised for acceptmg it, is doubly distressing." ^rmcisea for than?SdVup"posed."" "' P"'"" '' '^^" "°^^ "^^^'■^--- All three of the party laughed. It was quite evident that Victo.re was one of those persons who, at all events in certain ^ « W^li "'h ^"^ ""^ ZTu^' '^^^ ^'°^^''"°'- '°'^ f^«"i '^'-s seat. ■ •; V ?^ f '*^' ^ ^^^^ ^^'"^^ sense of responsibility left m spite of the demoralising atmosphere in which I find myself and I must get to work." "lybcu, v;rj°" fo^^^'s^d to take me with you some morning," said Victoire, looking up from her omelette. " It is lovely weather -:yhy not to-day ? M. le curd must come too " What IS all that ? " asked the cure. "Two of my usual assistants, and also the harbour-master are unfortunately ill," explained the governor. " As a resuU 1 have to personally superintend the work of taking fresh soundings in the fairway of the port. The secretary of marine chart "^" "^g'"g expedition in the drawing up of the new " Have the banks shifted ? " "A good deal, '^hey seem to think it is the works it Maerdyk. There will be plenty of room in my ganey" f you will give us the honour of your company, M. le cure " •' With pleasure, but for an hour only." Breakfast over, the party drove down to the port. The governors galley was waiting, and they were taken some quarter of a mile away from low-water mark. Two men-of- war s boats, under the command of a lieutenant, were busy casting the lead, taking bearings, and recording the depths indicated. Several small boats and fishing-smacks were scattered about at a short distance, and a brig was in the offing, making for the port. The wind had been blowing freshly during the morning, but was now falling : and in the neighbourhood of the galley it was almost a caln^ "That bng will have to use her sweeps to come up to i from my ■ved coin- not even observed icised for eritorious Jent that n certain his seat. >ility left, d myself, ng," said weather r-master, a result, ng fresh ' marine he new orks at ', if you t. The 1 some men-of- re busy depths s were in the blowing in the • -"ilr- /'♦♦^" ■'' up to i " The plague i " -I'aijf .",1. ill I;:! a •flvcnt Squire »9 moorings," said the governor, looking at the approaching vessel. " She seems to have had rough weather." The breeze carried the brig within a mile of the beach, and then almost diod away. Her speed gratlually lessened, and she finally ai)peared to be doing little more than drift inshore with tlic flow of the tide. " Her people must be all asleep," said Victoire, who had very long eyesight. " I can't make out anyone moving." •' She will foul those trawlers if she keeps on," said the governor. Several of the small boats seemed to notice something unusual about the brig, and began to close in round her. The governor ordered the boatswain to pull within hailing distance, and the rowers applied themselves to their oars accordingly. The galley ai)proached the brig, and her name, Ji'/eur de Lys, could be made out on the headboards. The boatswain hailed, but there was no response to the summons. "That's strange," remarked the governor. " Pull alongside and hail again. If they don't answer, go on board." ' As there was no reply to the boatswain's call, the galley went alongside the brig. The boatswain, followed by three men, clambered up into the main-chains, and disappeared. In two minutes there was heard a howl of dismay, the rush of footsteps on the deck, and the plunge of three of the men into the sea. The boatswain tumbled over the brig's side into the galley, his eyes starting out of his head, and his f; e yellow with fright. " The plague ! " he gasp . An epidemic of terror seemed to run through the crew of the gallev Without waiting for orders th. instantly began to row away )m the brig, despite the shouts of the sailors in the water. 1 he governor was furious, and drew his sword. " Stop, you scoundrels ! " he roared. " Back, and pick these men up. Do you want me to have you all hung ? " The panic-strickLU rowers, who had been pulling hard against the governor's steering, recovered their heads. They backed the galley, and the swimmers, puffing and blowing, climbed into their seats ;igain. The governor, who, in the absence of the harbour-mahier, had to assume the responsi- bility for the quarantine arrangements oi the port, turned to the boatswain. 1^' Who told you they ha..^ the plague on board ? " said he. Your excellency, it is writ en in Dutch across a flag on the deck, replied the boatswain, who was a Fleming from Ostend. 30 a fftciit SqiKie " 5'"? ''°'' ''* ""'' °' ""^ "«»' ? " think hl'isTld^™' ^-'''-^y-'he man a, the wheel. I 4r/S,er.;.L*;^^H,''se:r* "'■"-<' «"'^''""" plaguTfl"" ""^ ""'-"•" ^'^"""«'^'' 'he boatswain, "but .he The governor thought it necessary to remonstntP doeto^one-'tx-JS,: :L^>:iuf ~ - disinfectants." ^ ' ^"' '^^ provided with s.llUirvl.'"saM thTcurt™' "^ ™^" "-^^ "''• -™ 'f he be me." ' ^ ^"'^- ^ ^^^ "o one to accompany "Accompany you?" cried Victoire "Vnn ..o board, mon p^re ? " vit-ioire. Vou are going on ''Who else? "replied the curd. ^^'^^Zl^^l^^ - '^^ ^"■«- The cur. ;pg^p.oT;^u:;^La"fh^--^^^ anS r'acS^' r^W.h'''^ 'H^-^^"-- Then, himself over the rail ^^rfH "^ 'he boat's crew, he swung 'he galley. Every tan loot?/",'!^- '^".'^"« '°^'°"'''i « himsdf smaller in his own estiit ' "•'^'Shbour, and felt with tears. estimation. Victoire's eyes filled The curb's head appeared over the side of the br.s sign^tVn oTpTsSeTe "s-o'd^'nS" 1' ^"^ ' ' ' ^ "° know more, ke'ep a cordon ?o°u"d'th: tr^i ^V '"' "^ and attend to this man " ^" "^ ^'^' remain ;; We will fetch the doctor," said the governor soontr th^Tettef"^^^^'^^^ ^"^ ^-^'" '^^^^ "he cur.. « The stoKe^tr Tnlt wa^fbS ^^o If ^ !,^^T '^ ^~ brig tc, a mooring, and arran/.Hf^' ^^Tl ^^""^ ^° ^^^ the her and keen craft .?. ™ nl tS'^°"- °^ '^'"^ ^° ^°^ ^°""d T-iaif n„ 'u ", •"■^tancc tifi lurtner notice Half an hour later the galley returned ^ the doctor. J H Ikent Squire 31 Victoire insisting upon remaining one of the party. Tlie cur^ awaited them on the Fleur de Lys. " He is somewhat recovered," said he to the governor, " and has spoken. There is no question of the plague, and you need have no fear. Send half a dozen of your men, and we'll get him down. He is the only person on board." The assurance of the cure was received as gospel by the sailors, and their terrors were at once dissipated. There was a rush of volunteers up the sides of the brig, the gangway- ladder was adjusted, and the governor and the doctor went on deck. The cure took M. Daguerre aside, while the doctor proceeded to the poop. " A curious affair," said pbre Anselme. " This brig appears to be on special service for the king. I think you had better put her under seal, and get this young fellow to your house. It is something of importance." " A sailor ? " asked the governor, as they ascended the poop. " No— but an officer. I don't know whether he is German or French. Here he is." The officer lay on the poop, his head supported by his rolled-up cloak, which had been placed there by the cur^. The doctor had just examined him, so far as opportunity offered. "I see no signs of infectious disease," said he. "He is very weak, and there is fever. It is a case of collapse at present. He has had a bad recent cut on the head." The officer opened his eyes, and seemed about to speak. " Don't trouble to talk, monsieur," said the cure. '' Time for that later on. This is M. Daguerre, governor of Calais, so you are in just the right hands. Have no anxiety." The governor raised his hat. "Permit me to add, monsieur," said he, " that your ship will be placed under seal and guard on behalf of his majesty, until you are able to make other arrangements winch may be preferable to you. We propose removing you to my house, which is very much at your service, to awak your recovery." An expression of relief passed over the oflicer's features. "You are very good, monsieur," said he, in an almost niaudible voice, ai.d his eyes closed again. " Here, Lestraade ! " said the governor to the boatswain. "You and four men will remain here on guard till relieved. Nothing must be touched, and no man must leave the deck. I will send to seal the hatches and cabin as soon as I get on shore. All craft must be warned off." fe If 3* a lf?cnt Squire «y^7 ^°°^' ■^°"'" excellency." He was partly ™cSom„' in ann';'"'."''''' ''>' "'^ ''«"''■ was pacing. Viceoire TvaS herseJf of .h" T"' °' ""^' lime to steal a glanep »hSi, i .! '"'^ f™™ "me to the stranger's unSm hT,r r, ) '^ "Pressing pity for of a weelT's growth! Ss fSu'rf!; ^.r"' "^'?'■''=• ""^ l«="-d curiosity. The m1 Iv 1! '^ , l'' '^"'^eeding interest and this tinL either Seep of ir:t«f°f' ''"' *' "««■•. ''^ the carriage, driven to *p „nL . [ "'""' ™= '"''"^d '■"» by the do'ctir and his ass^^r °'' '°"'-"' """ P"' "■ ^^'d CHAPTER V BOW AMBROSE CWVNETT HAD A GOOD SLEEP stetTM,''D*;ue??e*sil„:d' ff!!! '^f '""«<' '«">'een the assi.ta'nt, and thelatter ra"rcd ''°"°' '" ^'""''^ ^^ h.m,""'s^i?krgo:tirwh:„'tf"''^"r'^^ -,.ore Of a Unguis^ thaH' afa^Tn^rie'^hre tj'h^";; anfha^lr:-'^- ?he"St/°"' '^ftvrlJien'Jn'^Oel'.rn; found no names °"°'' "" ""' "^ °^« them, and SpgliThe. ^^■Xlel^^nrn-oln?..'^"'"''- '» ^ ^"'^^ '" letteJrt a irVsTand' """' "" «°^"""' ''-*"8 "im two the ™virs''a'',S'^g-rer 'Toi'e'ieu ' ""^ ^T'' 8'^""^ at "Put them back "T-,M ,,,„™"''="'=''^'"'y dear governor!" not be indiscreet" ' ''°™"°''' '"'■S'""8- " We must JThe doctor replaced th,? lettpr- in th- -»=- • •• ihc person addressed seems .,i:\.L^'^:^^^ Jse every le invalid le doctor. e of what J time to pity for id beard ^rest and fficer, [)y fted into t to bed sen the liss his 3 about "You :o help e, and dozen srman, n, and and in n two ing at lor ! " must )cket. mett, 1 I a fkcnt Squtre 33 and to be an officer recently in the army of M. de Vendome m Spam. Anything else ? " The governor was examining a belt which had been worn by the patient. This proved to contain about eighty pistoles m gold, but no letters. A packet was then taken from an mner pocket of the vest and untied. A waterproof cover was wrapped round two letters, which the governor turned over and handed to the doctor. " M. le cure was right, it seems. This affair is of con- sequence. I rely on your absolute discretion, my dear doctor " The doctor looked curiously at the covers of the two letters rhey were addressed in French, one to the marquise de Alaintenon, and the other to the marquis de Torcy, secretary of state for foreign affairs. Both were sealed with the roval arms of Spain. ^ "A special envoy, without doubt," said the governor, rubbina his chm, and looking at the sleeping officer. "A most extraordinary affair," remarked the doctor, making up the packet again, and replacing it in the vest-pocket. " We must pull him round, if it is only to hear his story. I will look in again in a couple of hours. He will not wake for some time, I fancy. When he does, give him a little soup." "If you can conveniently remain here to-night I shall esteem it a favour," said the governor. " I daresay I can manage that," replied the doctor. " Then you will sup with us ? " " With pleasure." The doctor took his departure, leaving his assistant to keep an eye on the patient; and the governor, after locking up the otticer s clothes, went down to his daughter. Victoire met him with a large letter in her hand. " This has just been left for you ; a gentleman brought it He said he could not wait, as he was posting to Paris • but he desired me to give you his compliments and those of Mr bt. John, London." "Did he mention his name?" Victoire handed the governor a slip of paper on which was written, " M. I'abb^ Gaultier du Fresne de Beauval " " Do you know him ? " she said. " By name only, as an agent of the English ministry. He has a safe-conduct from M. de Torcy." M. Daguerre opened the letter. It contained another, and the governor uttered an exclamation of surprise whei he glanced at the address. 34 a mcnt Squiie "A curious coincidence ! " he muttered. " Look, mv deir < " Ihe letter was addressed "To Ambrose Gwynetr^esqu re Calat'"'"' °' '" "''"^"^"^y ^'^^ 8°^'-"°^ of the po'tof his7apers!" '''' °'^''' "P'^'"''- ^^^ ^°""^ °"^ ^is name from ''ReaIlv1lSl!e!.n?'V'T''^-^'''"'':"' «""'i"i-^i"g the writing, more ? "' ^ >nterestmg. Did you learn anything 1^ Yes, if I can rely on you to be discreet." discreet"? ''rri'H^.H'^''''^' "^?"f ^°"^ ' When am I anythmg but "T will ^1 ^ ^°"?S ''^y' ^'^^ justifiable indignation on o\h"j" ;ZlT>' ''"' '' ^"" ^^'^" ^^ ^°°^ --«'^ -t to -iy " For instance ? " anlTf"r^^* "\''''y "^^dame la procureuse. To tell that good lady somethmg as a profound secret always saves the expense of h.nng the town-crier. This is not a ady's secre - IS^lt^' ''''' """ ' '^^^" °"^ ''^' '^ - "-^'^" ^nllZTdiZ'To: '^ ^"^"^"^^'" ^^'^ ^''^'--' -tha twJ^letterorwhlrh'^;!.'^ '^" "''^"'■^"^^' ^"d described the iwo letters of which the otficer was the bearer but did nnt "l have"fr?7 'V' "^y^h'^e ^bout the oihers ""' he saiSTnHv ^^ ?n ^°''''" ^^•,^^'^^^" '-^"^ ^^'^^^^^^ ^^e case," i^ b'terSVoo litde ' "'"" ''^ ^''' ' ^'"'^ ^^^ ^^^ -- ''Tlnnf^'J'^''^ ?^ °5'^^ '^"^^ ^^ '^ Misdricorde." rPfnm tf .K '^^e^-do whatever is necessary. Now I must return to the port and put seals on the brig." M. Daguerre went off, leaving Victoire to carrv nut 1 1. . arrangements suggested, which she d.d wfth a good deV o a manner ""''" "^°" '*^''' ^""^^ *" ^^ unexpected H Ikent Squire nigh!?' tidTe'^'l^'Te \T ™'^/°^ f™'^' -i^y' -^ al^ne on tha. b.,;. He is"l, ^.^h^rfar ^ "een, if he was nourishmeit ,-n eadiness ,Thl^ 'f"'i.n'^ P/epared some ""0 his fo™er profoS Imbl'™""^' •"" "^ ^™^ »«»'" nexfrnomin'r """" '"'° '"' '°°™ "'"'"' "'"^ °'"«'' *'= ;;No change?" he said to the sister. not mredrcr;;:id„H,T' *'^' "= '■^' "° f-"- «= "- »»5*-°"p~^^^^^ His e,es, perfe«r;PaS„"'Frcr ' ™ "'"" """S'^-" -'d he, in govetLrcan^tlh'tdsir" ™' *^ '""*"• -" '^^ "l^leTot'noSnS^noTl t«'-' -""--." -id he. fatigue yourself w™h talking »' '"^ °^ J""'' ""'^ '^° "<" " Is"'m,nr!ir •""'>'■ J'™"'™"-' This house ?•• ca^ "nryo';;?'^::rHu„',hrs?rrn'.p-^«"-'^>^~ -^ ^JrzT^„n'lS'nl'°^°,?'"°"^i™'- A"d the brig " Af i ' " ^ '^^^^ recollect nndinc mvsclf ^ " seai.^;:^ r^oTC/ri r"^^^"^r^'^ '^^ -^^ in bed." ^ ^^^////^«-let us see if you can sit up cli.sporedtrhis""up''S' "P '".-^ ^'?'"'^ P-'^'-' -d sister. P ''"'' ''" ^^"^>ty >vhich delighted the T^'^c" ^^l^J'"^f ^°'T '^^^ ^«-"'" -'d she. stubble, and smned ""^ °'''' ^'' ^•^'"' ^^^'^ ^is growth of .« v4 T"^'^'''''* ^ "'"'* ^°°^ ''^" '-appalling rnffinn." he s-^id m^r^:^. 'Srcun;s;4cSlS°^^^°-"^ '" -^ P--al t*^ 'ny toilet c>f hit- '' Prevented proper attention 36 B ment Squire At this moment the doctor entered. " Aha ! " said he, " this is famous. Monsieur has had a nice httle nap." "M. Vidal insisted on your sleeping the sleep of Barbarossa if necessary," said the governor, introducing the doctor. " How long have I been asleep ? " asked the officer. "About forty hours, monsieur," replied the sister, quite proud of this prodigious feat of somnolence on the iDart of her patient. " The fever is gone, and the pulse is good," said the doctor, after the usual routuie of examination. " Do you feel any vertigo, monsieur?" " None, monsieur." "You have been excessively weakened. What has been wrong lately ? " " About a fortnight ago I lost a good deal of blood from a cut on the head, which made me unconscious for an hour or more. After that I had little or no sleep for I suppose ten days, and continuous fatigue." " You have had no illness, strictly speaking ? " " None whatever." "Then I need ask no more questions at present. You only require rest, food and sleep— take them." " I must travel to Paris, monsieur, at once." " Good Lord ! " said the doctor, laughing. « Do you want me^to begin to talk about a strait-waistcoat?" "I can lie in a carriage, monsieur; the matter is urgent i^y the way," and the officer gave a sudden start, " my letters ' Are they ? " " Pertectly safe, monsieur," said the governor, bowing. "It was desirable, of course, on your own account, to try and determine your identity by means of your papers. They have Kot left thi: ,m, and are under lock and key," and the governor poi-.^ed to the cabinet in which he had placed the ofhcer's clothes after their examination by himself and the doctor. "Your belt is with them." "You relieve me greatly," replied the officer. "But still doctor, I mu t proceed on my journey." ' "Impossible, monsieur. Another return of fever, and vou might not reach Paris alive." "Cannot your despatches be forwarded, monsieur?" asked the governor. "'i hey require personal explanation, which I alone can give 1 would rather avoid asking for someone to come to me from t i I I been You f n IJ^cnt Squire 37 Paris if it is at all possible. ^Vhat is the best you can promise nie, doctor?" i- ■<- The doctor scratched his cheek, and felt the patient's pulse again. ^ k"' The governor shook hands with his guest and the doctor and left the room. The nurse was duly instructed as to the proper dietary for the day, and the doctor in his turn took his departure He found the governor waiting at the foot of the stairs with Victoire. "I>octor," said he, "I have a letter for our friend upstairs- left yesterday by a messenger from England. Is he to have " Does he expect it ? " "Not that I know of" " Has he asked for any letter ? " " Apparently not." t^rj^Y^KT^- *^ ^'1! ^^'' ^''^"'"S- If 't is good news, it will keep; If bad, it will only worry him and Aiow him back " And the doctor went off. ^';How is the patient?" asked Victoire of her fluher. the Tr^r. Tl u^ ^"' ^^"P ^'^ ^^-^"^ t^-d'-^y; to-morrow emert^^^^ '^ "^^ ^^"^^ ^--- ^^ -" ^ave to totil^^ ^^ ^ gentleman?" questioned Victoire, in a dubious " Assuredly—one of distinction, if I mistake not. A tough 1 1 38 B Ikent Squire 1^ 'i customer in other respects, or he would not be alive Mvf He speaks French perfectly, whatever nationality he may "That is lucky," said Victoire, whose linguistic studies had Deen confined to the dead languages, as was usual with well- educated women at that period. " I suppose he is a friend to the cause of the chevalier de St. George-no Englishmen come to France now who are not." "We shall no doubt hear all about that in time The mam thmg now is to feed him well, and leave him alone " "You are horribly practical and commonplace," said ^^^loncpoutm^, as she went off about her domestic duties Iheofficer slept, with the exception of his meal-times, "the greater part of the day. In the evening M. Daguerre returned, and found the nurse and the patient wrangling with a good deal of vigour. ^ o & '' Monsieur insists upon writing a letter," complained the sister. I am sur you will say he ought to wait for the doctor's sanction." "And I, monsieur, am sure you will say that these pre- cautions on my account are a little ridiculous. If it were not for the very admirable persistence with which this lady remains m the room, and also keeps the key of that wardrobe in her pocket, I should get up and dress." trium ha ^" ^^ Souverneur who has the key," said the sister '' Mea cu//>a," said the governor, laughing. "But before you write, monsieur, I had better hand you a letter which has arrived for you from England." " From England ! " cried the officer. ;* That is, if we rightly take you to be M. Ambrose Gwynett." Ihat is my name, monsieur." 'Hie governor produced the letter, and handed it to the otticer. " Under cover from M. St. John," said he, dropping his voice so that the remark did not reach the sister TheofTficer tore open the letter, and devoured its contents with an eagerness which brought a quiet smile to the face of the governor. "I trust you have nothing but good news, monsieur," he remarked, from the depths of his easy-chair. "A!! is well, I thank you. Curiously enough, my letter refers to a matter in which I may possibly find you able to give me a little assistance." The said H IRent Squire 39 I' That will give me great pleasure, monsieur. What is it ? " •'Some friends of mine are endeavouring to trace a lost relative who, when last seen, was proposing to travel from England mto France. May I ask how long you have held your present post, monsieur?" " Twelve years." " Ah ! that is unfortunate." " When did your friend disai)pear ? " ^'^ In 1694. Have any of your staff been here so long ? " "I thmk not. But M. !e procureur du roi and the chief of police are senior to myself by half a dozen years. Either luight assist you." " 1 shall be extremely glad of your introduction and good oltices with these gentlemen." " They are quite at your service, monsieur." "I will avail myself of them the moment I am at liberty— that IS, after my commission is executed, which I hope will be in three days at farthest." "Gently, my friend, gently— we are not out of the wood yet. " Anqther night's rest, and I shall be perfectly well, I assure you. A propos, I will postpone my intended letter till I have had the opportunity of consulting the gentlemen you mentioned just now." ^ " I think you are wise, monsieur," said the governor, who usually found himself very much at a loss with a pen in his hand, and naturally concluded that letter-writing involved a similar mental strain upon other people. "And now monsieur, I will retire, or the doctor will be scolding me for fatiguing you. Ah ! here he is." The doctor entered the room, and the patient presented his wrist secundum artem. " Doctor," said he, " I defy you to invent any reason for keeping me a prisoner after to-day." ''Peste! my good sir, you forget I have a bill to make up \ ou have no idea how that stimulates a defective imagination But nevertheless, I admit you have got on marvellously so far. If you will not do anything idiotic to-morrow, I think you will be fit to do anything sensible the day after " ''That is something to be thankful for," said the officer with a resigned air. "At the same time, messieurs, I owe you both a thousand apologies for my impatience, and bee you to accept them. And mademoiselle also," he added smiling at the sister. ' 40 a lient Squire "Monsieur has been only moderately unreasonable," re- marked the sister, in a judicial tone. "Good Lord ! " said the doctor philosophically, " what more could any man desire to be said of him? Good evening monsieur; come, M. le gouverneur, or I shall have yoii gossiping with my patient all night." The two gentlemen went off, and the officer, after taking a light supper, fell asleep again for the night. The next morning he awoke early, felt very much himself again, and made an excellent breakfar-t. The doctor after seeing him, made no further difficulty about his leaving his room, and gave a conditional assent to his setting out on his journey the following day. This put the officer in excellent spirits. He asked for the attendance of a barber, whose razor, brush, and comb effected a change in his appearance which took the sister's breath away, and then rose. The governor's valet, who had carefully gone over the officer's clothes the previous day, and put them into presentable order helped him to dress, and then left him to fetch the governor. ' The latter opened his eyes when he entered the bedroom and found his guest waiting in readiness to descend. ''Fardieuf" he said to himself. "Here is a young fellow to whom M. de Lavalaye would object rather strongly, if I mistake not. It is perhaps lucky he is in such a hurry to get away. And how do you find yourself to-day, monsieur ? " he asked aloud. " Very well indeed," replied the officer heartily. "Certainly I have a little strength to make up yet, but that is all. I am quite at your service." "Come along, then," said the governor. "But you must take my arm till we are safely downstairs. It would be humihating to break your neck on dry land, after escaping heaven knows what on the ocean." ^ The pair descended the wide fourteenth-century staircase and the governor led the way to the salon, Victoire was sitting on a low chair at the window, and rose as the two gentle- men entered. " My dear, let me present to you the sieur Ambrose Gwynett our guest. Monsieur, this is my only child, Victoire." ' The officer responded with a bow worthy of St. James's or Versailles. Victoire curtsied before looking up. When she did so, her expression of astonishment was so ohyiou-s that the governor could not forbear to smile. "Just as I expected," he chuckled ruefully to himself. a Ikent Squire 41 re- taking CHAPTER VI HOW MADEMOISELLE DAGUERPE PLAYED THE HOSTESS Maukmoiselle Victoire's range of acquaintance amongst the opposite sex was perhaps as extensive as circumstances permitted— that is to say, she had had the opportunity of seeing nearly all the young men who belonged to the best available society of Calais and the district around. These comprised the officers of the garrison, the local seigneurs, the 'noblesse of the robe' of Picardy, and an occasional visitor from the court coming to the neighbourhood on business or pleasure. But she had never encountered so impressive a representative of the masculine gender as the person who now stood before her. Ambrose Gwynett was rather more than six feet in height and of breadth to match, wit^i a face and figure which had earned for him in three countries the sobriquet— borne thirty years earlier by John Churchill— of 'the handsome Enghsh- man.' His bearing combined the alert vigour of the soldier with the grace and dignity of the old noblesse, the decision and self-reliance of the commander of armed men with the politeness and tact of the habitue of royal palaces. The two centuries preceding the Georgian era were remarkable for the early age at which men frequently became prominent in war, pohtics, and society, and the governor s guest seemed to be a notable illustration of this characteristic of the period. It was evident that he coLld not be more than twenty-four or twenty-five years of age; nevertheless his manner suggested the experience and formed mind of a man who had held his own in the world for a dozen years or more. It may be added that the officer's dress, in spite of the somewhat detrimental effect of his recent adventures, was quite in keeping with his personal appearance. There was, therefore, som? excuse for Victoire's non-recognition of the dilapidated scarecrow, huddled up in a cloak, who had been hoisted out of the Fkiir de Lys into her father's galley three days before. A second or two passed before she had sufficiently recovered from her surprise to speak, and Gwynett was the first to respond to the introduction. .,»„.„ .,,._..av.ic, atti--! ne, i t^aiiijui iiiiu wurcis to express my gratitude for the kindness and care which I have received at the hands of M. le gouverneur and yourself, and to which 4a H ikcnt Squtce 111 all probability 1 owe my life. I can only hope that I may sonie day have tlie opportunity of making a return, however madequate, for .'-e obligation you have conferred upon me " Victoire regamed her usual self-possession, and received C.wynetts acknowledgments with due decorum and a little nutter of pleasure. " Monsieur is very welcome to any little hospitality we may have had the happiness of offering him," said she. "I hone monsieur finds himself (juite recovered ? " "If he says yes, don't believe him," said the governor wheeling a large fauteuil towards the window. " Be seated' monsieur, and do not let my daughter tire you to death with her chatter. For myself, I have to go to the port, and must ask you to excuse me— we are both soldiers, monsieur, and know what duty means. 1 shall have the pleasure of rejoinin'- you at luncheon." " " I shall be unhappy, monsieur, if in any way you permit me to mterfere with your arranjiements, or those of mademoiselle. 1 have sulhciently trespassed ui)on your consideration already." On the contrary, monsieur. We only regret that your haste to depart threatens to depr . e us so soon of your society " "Assuredly, monsieur," added Victoire, in a tone which miparted to these little amenities a flavour of sincerity suffi- ciently distinct to put the subject of them quite at his ease Ihe governor withdrew, and Victoire provided herself with some mdefimte kind of fancy-work wherewith to occupy herself in the intervals of conversation. But after a few common- places, intended on her part to lead up to a little catechising of her companion on the subject of his recent adventures the interview was suddenly interrupted by a peremptory demand lor Victoire's presence in the kitchen department. Some domestic contretemps in this region detained her till lunch was ready, and Gwynett occupied himself in the meanwhile with some books and a chart of the coast which he found on the table of the salon. Victoire's return was followed a few minutes afterwards by that of the governor, who apologised profusely for the un- avoidable neglect with which his guest had been treated durine the morning. ° "But I hope, monsieur," said he, as they sat down to lunch, " that you will return good for evil by telling us how you came to arrive at Calais under such unusual circum- stances—that is, if my daughter has not already asked you the same question." ' i may hope H ikciit Squire 43 1 have not liad the chance," said Victoire, smiUng at Owynctt, who was ungallant enough to congratulate himself upon having escaped the necessity of saying the same thincs twice over. * "Hitherto, monsieur," proceeded the governor, "we have desired above all things not to fatigue you with unnecessary conversation, liut I assure you I have been overwh'.med witn inquiries about the Flmr de Lys and her crew, which 1 have of course been unable to answer." Gwynett paused a moment before reply l^u,^ "As a matter of fact, monsieur, I find myself a little in a difficulty. A certain commission with which I have been charged, and the nature of the voyage I have made in con- nection with it, require me to make my report in the first instance to the persons to whom I am accredited ; un*! I am not quite sure how far etiquette will permit me to sa' an v chine about It beforehand." ' ^ Vif.Louc looked a whole volume of disappointment ; but the gov-rnor interposed with a prompt approval of his guest's res ;n i\ ^ " My dear M. Gwynett, you are perfectly right, and you must vir.'^n an indiscretion on my part, committed in Ignorance of the circumstances." "You set me at iiiy ease, monsieur. I was afraid my reticence would appear rather absurd, the more especially as there IS nothing to conceal. But there is no reason why you should not hear how I came to be found in such an uncom- fortable plight." "Monsieur will interest us very much by anything he is at liberty to tell us," said Victoire, beginning to be hopeful again. o o f "In the first place, mademoiselle, there was nothing but ill-Iuck on our brig after the voyage was fairly commenced. We had very rough weather, and several of us were hurt by falling spars and rigging. All on board, except one seaman and myself, were eventually either swept overboard or died of injuries received in the storm. I was badly cut on the head and lost so much blood that I could scarcely stand for a week otherwise, I assure you, I should not have cut such a ridiculous figure as I did when your galley came upon the scene." ^ j f This vievr of the case made Victoire open her eyes. " But monsieur must have had frightful labour to navigate that ship all alone— for you were alone, surely?" 44 a Ikent Squire " Yes ; my only surviving days before I reached Calais. companion died two or three ■ e . ^ . - ^^ ^^^ been very ill— dvins m fact— for more than a week before that." " And of course unable to help you at all ? " " Entirely You see, that prevented my getting any sleep Of course, that is a common thing on a campaign, and one doesn't mmd a week or so of it. But beyond that i^ is really very fatigumg, if one is weakened to start with " r.l?r!'f hu"^ - " '""i^ ^^^ governor, who had a most religious regard for the soundness of his nightly slumbers, "that is enough to account for anything. And how did you succeed m making port, monsieur ? " ^ =>uLctta "Partly by good weather and partly by sheer luck. The wind was favourable, and all I had to do was to see I did not run ashore till I got opposite Calais. After that, you probably know more about my proceedings than I do, for I confess I fhetrig'?"''^ '^°"* '^' '"""''• ^^'^''■^ ^'^ y°" b^^^d "About a mile from shore. You we- running straight for a fleet of trawlers, and that attracted our attention. But you frightened our men to death when they climbed on deck." How was that?" '•They read the word ' plague ' on the flag." True— I quite forgot I had left that flag rather a serious oversight." " What did it mean, monsieur ? " asked Victoire Mademoiselle, it was a little ruse. I had a visit from a Dutch cruiser, and put that out to scare them away. Un- fortunately, it only had the effect of inducing them to tow tho Dng, instead of sending a prize-crew on board." ^'1 But you wrote ' help ' on the flag as well ? " "That was to give an air of genuineness to knew they wouldn't come, all the same." " Then why did they tow you ? " "Ju, *»^^ ^^^ ^"S as a prize to Ostend probably." " In spite of the plague ? " "Oh ! yes. They would probably have scuttled her above iTeicT T!r.'n /h''"^ ^''n'."" ^'" ^i^'"f^^^^'-^ ^y the sea for a few her again/' ^ ^^^^"""^ '^^ *'°'^'' ^"^ '^^^^^^ '^But how did you part company?" Gwynett narrated the circumstances with which the reader has been made acquainted, to the great interest of the there. It was the thing. I or Antwerp, .': a Ikent Squire 45 i povcrnor, who had been an artillery officer himself when on active service. " That must have been a clever shot of yours," said he. "A pure chance, M. le gouverneur. In fact, I don't know what happened. The rudder might have been hit, or the wheel dismounted, or the chains carried away — any of these things would have stopped the steering for ten minutes. In that time the fog had come up, and I was safe. But for the fog the risk would not have been worth running. They could have disabled the brig quite easily if they had been able to see her." After some further chat over the minor incidents of the voyage, the luncheon was brought to a close, and the governor's daughter resumed the task of entertaining (iwynett until the evening. A certain curiosity anent the guest's feminine correspondent naturally resulted in Victoire's manoeuvring the conversation a the direction of this interest- ing subject. "You are still determined to leave us, monsieur?" she asked, after a little preliminary beating about the bush, " It is imperative, mademoiselle, much as I regret terminating a visit which has laid me U!, er such pleasant obligations." " I am afraid your correspondence has altered your arrange- ments. You have had letters from England, I think my father said ? " " On the contrary, mademoiselle, I was bound to continue my journey to Paris in any case. But the letter you mention has made it probable that I shall have to return here, on some business in which M. Daguerre has kindly offered his assistance." "Your friends were, of course, aware of your intended passage through Calais ? The letter might easily have missed you." " I had mentioned that I hoped to be here shortly. I have been more than two years away from England." " Your family will be anxious to see you again." " I have no relatives, mademoiselle, except one, an uncle. He lives in Munich." Victoire decided that this was an important step gained in the catechism. "We thought it was possibly your mother or your sister v.'ho wrote, she said, with extreme innocence of tone and countenance. "I am unfortunately an only child, mademoiselle, and If 46 H ftent SQufrc !M Both died in my I knew little of my father and mother, m fancy. ' nf Th? .^^f^e'^ent touched a sympathetic chord in the heart hefn^ . '''T'-''^° ^"^ ^^''^^y 8--^"^ a Jong way toward fam.hes who are ready to poison each other daily!" ' Ihere may be something in that," said Gwynett, laughing At the same time, I would like to run the risk f I ronM" I have found life now and then rather solitary "' '^* Victoire decided to hazard a bold stroke. be a beginningT"'''"' ^'"^ '"'"^ '" ^"^ ^°"^^^' ^"^ that will fhinJ.n!?r°^ '''^^°"* ^^'^ *'°P^' mademoiselle," said Gwynett thinkmg It was gettmg time to be explicit gwynett, nf JTuf ^'^P^^i^"''^^ ^ J'"Je shock, which had the effect of enhghtenmg her somewhat as to Jhe feelingsw th w£ch she had come to regard her companion. ^ exne^Tn'^h'' P^^^j^'y '^o^e than a hope-perhaps an expect, on, she said, lookmg away from Gwynett. 1 hat IS true, mademoiselle." j^.^ If monsieur is betrothed, he will permit me to felicitate ;' You are exceedingly kind, mademoiselle." '' MTderisellTis'quircS '' "°"'^"'^ — pondent." ''^:s^Sl:"^"^'^''^^^'°"^^°-^^" ■ X'f ""^ "^T.l °" ''''^^ her fancy-work for a few moments m SI ence while Gwynett ungallantly forgot all about her and travelled m thought to the Cottage at Wray Manor Ihen She took up the ball again. ^ One hears much of the beauty of the English ladies " I can assure you, mademoiselle, I hav never been in any country where there were not beautiful w >men '' own cl";:;r;n."° '°"'^ p"'^" ^'^ ^^^^^ ^^^^-^^y of his " Perhaps that is natural, mademoiselle." ctoire nirl-f>H nn « >.,„] ...1 • 1 ■ , - ., it to her basketr "^ " """' "^"^ '^'^^"' ^"^ '^''^'^'^ a IRent SQulre 47 "Monsieur's fiancee is probably an example of English beauty, she said, with her eyes fixed on her work 1 here was a little flutter in the voice, which made itself intelligible to Gwynett just as he was opening his mouth to conhrm Victoire's supposition, and he stopped as if a eulf yawned suddenly in front of him. "The deuce!" he said to himself. "My soup will be disagreeing with me, if I don't take care." He paused a moment, and replied in a serious tone, 'She has a very comfortable appearance, mademoiselle." Victoires face brightened. This verdict seemed rather to exclude the unduly romantic, and anything was better than a mental comparison by which she herself might suffer She rose, and after a little further chat in a more cheerful tone left the room. As she did so, M. Daguerre entered, and came forward to Gwynett. "Your travelling-carriage will be ready for you in the morning, monsieur," said he. "I have seen to it myself Ihat is, if you are able to use it— I am unkind enough to nope the contrary." ^ Gwynett expressed his thanks for the trouble which had been taken, and his impression that he would be quite readv to travel on the morrow. ' "I have also been making some inquiries for you." nro- j-eeded the governor. « M. le procureur du roi is absent on business, but the prefect of police will be happy to place himself at your disposal whenever you choose, and give vou any assistance in his power." ^ ^ f J' "^rf '"^ ^/'^'''h^' '"^^'^fcd to you, monsieur. On my return irom 1 aris I will go into the matter at once." 1, ""^^r'^i,?^ '''^'^ ^'''■>°" *^ ^"^l"""*^ at Paris also. Do you know M. d'Argenson ? " ^ "Not at all." " Or M. de Torcy ? » " I have to see him." " He will help you. The Colberts arc all great friends of mention ^Lnf ^f ^^"?.^'"^'"'- I "^ay without indiscretion tTe' th'n fSd^hlp ""'"^^ ^'" ^'^"'y ^^ -^^^^ by - <=^-- "If you see M. de Torcy, you will also probably see his nephew and chief secretary, M. Rcn6 de Lava!aye~a d'Estr^es! M 48 a ITicnt Sqiiite a'^ndTXg" """'''' '"^" --S^d between .ha. gen.leman let me know when the ceremony is about to take d ace » ,;Noth,ng wm give me greater pleasure, monsfeur "'^ victoire s afiections are somewhat at lar^re " ^inoiseiic ■ CHAPTER VII AT VERSAILLES b m"Xu«^ 't'V '''" '"'I ---n'edTo'hS We-oufc^rautn^-^^^^^^^^^ noraLXSre^te^kl^r" '^ ^"' '» ^ ^InlXul 4L'tt rau&e t r Hr„ro7 th?S.e^rttaS"' a^ttf^^'s-^S enl n™; whe'reThad^eft^TK'' '^'^'" *,-= P"-'P>' before mounti^l. '» ad^se 'ht '.ru'prwtl^e dot^S'^he Jeetd^ro^-^Vh^l'te^^^^^^ SL^rSS 3 oSS^ ^S; th^ -i- I do not know -he name, raadame," he was saying, i„ I a ment Squire 49 reply to some question which Gwynett had not heard " Are you quite sure he has arrived ? " • ^ic "He was to have left Calais two or three days since " replied the lady, in a musical voice, and with the slightest possible Spanisn accent. ^ AuS'^'^^V ^ ^t""'^. f n^ething of that a few minutes ago. Ah! as he caught sight of Gwynett, "this is the gentleman Pardon, monsieur, but I believe this lady is inquiring for vou " Gwynett was rather surprised, but came forward to the off side of the carriage with his bridle over his arm, and raised his hat to the occupant. He was still more surprised when the lady turned her face towards him. She was a young woman of perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three years of age distinguished by a beauty positively startling to Gwynett who' had seen not a few beautiful women in his travels and had hitherto flattered himself that his ^a^cee had very few rivals between the Danube and the Thames. But the type in this case was totally different, and partook partly of the Tuscan and partly of the Provensal, combining the oval majesty of the one with the grace and vivacity of the other. "What can I do for you, madame?" asked Gwynett, as he came in front of the carriage. ' "A thousand pardons, monsieur-it is a mistake," replied the lady, with a ravishing smile of apology, and a glance of interest at Gwynett's herculean propordons « I am expecting a relative to arrive at Versailles from Calais, and this gentleman thought that you were he." scmicman " Permit me, madame, to regret that he is in error." reolied Gwynett, accompanying the compliment with a bow as he prepared to get into the saddle. . "Will you descend, madame?" asked the official. "It IS possible that your relative is in the palace already. I wi.l "I think I will," said the lady, rising from her seat. Lin . Ik'^^u''^ ^^'^ '^'^y^'^ ^"to the courtyard, came ?o1fn7ro H '^' v^'"'' ^^ l^' ^^"'^g^- The official' turn" d round to drive ,t away, when one of the horses, which had already been giving the coachman some trouble, took fright rn."ZV""^"''y' T^.^''^'^ ^'' companion. ' n anX; ;!?!!!J,?!.^-^43 had been driven against the curbstone and ..^..ntxy uvcrturncd, while the two horses lay on their sides ,iH^ ^,J\'" ^•'•ect.ons. The lady had been flung on the 5ide walk, between the horses' feet and the door of the porter'^ 50 a Ikent Squire lodge, which at this moment was closed. The official was pinned ^'gainst the lodge wall by the back of the overturned carriage, and the coachman lay on his face in the roadway apparently stunned. Gwynett had one foot in the stirrup when he heard the crash of the overturn and looked round. The lady could only be reached by climbing either over the wreck of the carriage or over the plunging bodies of the liorses. He saiv that an instant':^ loss of time might be fai:;!, e\en if it were not too late already. His saddle, luckily, was a S ravelling oni . yith the usual pistol-holster on each r.ide, an(' the butts i-rotr; dmg. It was the v/ork of a second to draw both weapcms, to c;ck, and to fire into the heads of the two stri.tieling animals. Thanks to the punctiliousness of Gwynett's hotel people, each pistol was properiv loaded anvl primed, and both shots were fatal. The two horses were killed instantly, but Gv/ynett's heart came into his mouth as he saw a hoof shoot past the lady's head and strikt the oaken door with a blow rhit shook the very roof of the lodge. He was b> h;r side al a bound, and raised her head on his knee just as i:he oilficiai released himself and iiDstened forward. The lady opened her eyes, smiled, and )>at \tp. "Thank you very much," she said, as if nothing had happened. " Your hand, monsieur, if you will be so good." The official, who had scarcely recovered his breath, raised her to her feet, and looked at her speechlessly. Gwynett turned towards the door, where a lock of long hair had been cut off by the horse's shoe and driven into the wood of the oaken panel. "You have had a miraculous escape, madame," said he, handing the lady her hat, which was cut through the brim. " Thanks to your promptitude, monsieur." "Hardly, madame. I was not in time to prevent that,'' and Gwynett pointed to the door. " How you were not killed by that last kick I cannot imagine." The lady put up her hand to her head, and discovered the loss of half her back hair. " That was an abominable animal," she said ruefully. " I hope you have sustained no other injury, madame." " I feel none, I thank you. But I must decidedly go indoors and get myself repaired. Where is the coachman ? " This functionary was sitting in the rouuway, jUSt feeoverrrig consciousness, and very much shaken, but otherwise none the worie for his fall. He got up and approached his mistress. H Ikent Squtre SI "See to all this," said the lady, pointing to the horses. "The carriage had better be taken back to Marly. I shall return with inadame de Ventadour." The coachman bowed, and went off in search of assistance at the stables. The lady turned to Gvvynett, and looked at him with a certain earnestness. "Monsieur," she said, in a voice full of feeling, "accept my thanks. If I escaped one kick, I should not have escaped the next. When I saw those brutes with all their legs in the air, I knew you could not reach me, and gave myself ud for lost." ^ "It was a lucky chance that the pistols in my holsters were loaded, madame. I trust that you will experience no further inconvenience." Gwynett bowed, and raised his hat in token of withdrawal. The lady curtsied, and placed her hand on the arm of the official, who was standing by. " I am the comtesse de Valincour, monsieur," she said. " I am at Marly, and I hope we may meet again." The palace of Marly was occupied by the dauphin, the due de Bourgogne, and Gwynett understood that his inter- locutor was in the household of the prince. " Under happier auspices, I trust, madame," said he. " Adieu, monsieur, and au revoir, I hope." " You confer a great favour on me, madame." The comtesse went away with the official, and Gwynett rode off into the town. The coachman presently returned with a couple of stablemen and hurdles, and began to remove the dead horses. While this was being done, two gentlemen came up and stopped to watch the proceedings. One of these was the abbe Dubois, formerly tutor to the due de Chartres (now the due d'Orleans), and at present his factotum and general ill-adviser in chief. If the reader requires a description of hmi, he may learn from the famous ' Memoirs ' of St. Simon that the abbe was " a little, pitiful, wizened, herring-gutted man, flaxen wig, weazel's face, brightened by some intellect." "The most impudent deceit had become natural to him, and was concealed under an air that was simple, upright, sincere, often bashful." His companion was the abb^ Gaultier. "Hallo! Pierre," exclaimed the latter, addressing the ^-uttv-nmaii, wuui. 15 au tiiis r The coachman looked up, and made a very humble salute. "Pardon, M. I'abb^," said he. "It is so many years since 52 B Ikent Squire ill you you at the chateau de for the moment. Beauval that I did We have had an we have seen not recognise accident." " So I see. Whom were you driving ? " " Madame la comtesse, monsieur." " Your sister, abbe ? " asked Dubois. " I suppose so. Where is she, Pierre ? " *' She has retired into the palace, monsieur, but not seriously hurt, I believe." " What has happened ? " The coachman briefly narrated the circumstances of the accident, and indicated the direction taken by the comtesse and her escort. " Madame came here to inquire for you, I believe, M. I'abbd." Gaultier turned to Dubois. " You will excuse me, my dear abbd, I am sure. I was not aware my sister had left Languedoc." " Assuredly," said Dubois. " If the comtesse does me the honour to recollect that I met her once or twice at Madrid when the duke was in Spain, please present my respectful homage to her." " With pleasure." And Gaultier wtnt off. Dubois stood looking at the men engaged with the dead horses, and cogitating. " What mischief is in the wind now ? " he queried to himself. " Madame la comtesse is not here for nothing. If madame des Ursins had not taken time by the forelock and kicked my estimable pupil back from Madrid to the Palais-Royal, she would have bewitched him like Amelot and d'Estrees and the others. Lucky for la Parab^re. She would have been ex- tinguished in a snap of the finger. This is a Marly equipage, surely ? " The abb^ scrutinised the arms on the panels, and then said to the coachman, " They won't thank you for this at Marly, my friend ? " " It is a great misfortune, monsieur," said Pierre dolefully. " Monseigneur is very particular about the horses. Our first drive, as it happen?." " Ah ? " "You see, monsieur," proceeded Pierre, with a provincial readiness to gossip which Dubois found convenient, "although madame has been in office a week, she has been too busy to drive out. To-day, hearing that M. I'abb^ Gaultier had arrived from England " a 1?ent Squire 53 " The duties of office are no doubt very exacting," put in the abb^, wlio never wasted time. "Madame is already a great favourite with madame la dauphine," said Pierre proudly, as he returned to his colleagues. " Peste I " thought the abb^, " la Valincour a lady-in-waiting at Marly ! Now who managed that ? Not the duke, or I should have heard. Not d'Estr^es, surely — she snubbed him too hard at Madrid. Possibly Amelot. It would be well to find out." The abb^ looked thoughtfully at the coachman and his assistants, who, after clearing away the traces of the recent incident, were now taking away the horses and the equipage to the stables. " I wonder," he said to himself as he walked off, " whether the comtesse recollects our little sparring. It helped to pass the time at Madrid. But here, on second thoughts, I think I should have cultivated an alliance. La Valincour at Marly could be a decided nuisance if she chose to be spiteful." In the meantime Gaultier had made inquiries after the corntesse, and learned that she had gone to the rooms of the ladies-in-waiting. Here madame de Ventadour, governess to the ' petit dauphin,' the due de Bretagne, was occupied with the little prince, whom she had brought over from Marly to make a regulation visit to his royal great-grandsire and spend the day at Versailles. Sending in his name, Gaultier was asked into one of the private boudoirs, close to madame de Maiiitenon's apartments, until the comtesse de Valincour could see him. Presently the door opened, and the co .i; '-se entered, wearing a rich dressing-gown of Indian silk it! place of her driving costume, and without her hat. She came forward quickly and kissed her brother with a certain amount of affection. " How did you hear of me ? " she asked. " We came across the wreck of your carriage at the entrance," replied the abb<^, looking at his sister with a critical air, and evidently a little surprised at something. " Pierre told us about the affair." " Who are ' we ' ? " " Dubois was with me. He begged to be remembered.* " Dubois r and the duke ? " " Oh ! he is in Paris." The comtesse considered a few moments, while her brother 54 H fcent Squire ir! continued to regard her steadfastly. Then she went to the door, locked it, and pointed to an easy-chair. "Sit down, my dear Armand," she said "I rather want to have a httle chat with you — that was why I came here to-day. One of the equerries mentioned that you had come over to Versailles. Madame de Ventadour has lent me this r^ 1 • 1" they are repairing the damage done to my dress, so that we shall not be interrupted." "'l._ ;.Ljb^ rolled up ■xjauteuil for the comtesse, and leisurely deposited himself in another near at hand. " By all means," said he. CHAPTER VIII iF'1 YVONNE DE VALINCOUR " Firs r of all," said the comtesse, " did you get my last letter ? I ask because, as usual, you omitted to answer it." " Let us see," deliberated the abb^. " When was it sent ?" *' A year ago — just after we had left ^Madrid." The abb^ cast about in his memory and fished up a reminis- cence. " I have some idea of a letter coming to me at ny old lodgings. I was ill at the time, aid 'i.ere was a gre..: fuss made. The scoundrelly landlord refused to entertain me any longer, and insisted that I h;'d set fire to his house I fancy that was pur invention." The comtesse had evidently a certain familiarity with hr brother's idiosyncracies. " As vou are not quite sure, I presume your illness was the usual one ? ' she asked. " I called it fever," replied the abbe placidly. " The (locto; -ailed i h'lirium tremens. He was probably a quae';. When I was sufficiently recovered to move, ' found 11 my paoers burnt, most of my clothes, and a good deal of the frniture — some careless rving-wench, no doubt. BJt I certainly never lead your letter. I have heard nothing of you since you went to the Escarial, now I come to think of it — except at t.1- :ond hand, through the de Noailles." "That ■ eans that I iuve a good deal t<> tell you," said the comtes ir resigned tor . % a Ikent Squire 55 '• I ar" ^11 attention, my dear Yvonne." "To ;in at the beginning, you recollect perfectly well how I resi aed the marriage with M. de Valincour?" "Perfectly well. But I assure you I did all I could — at your request — with my step-mother. Unfortunately, you had really no case, except that he was old, ugly, broken down with disease, and a maniac for ill-tenipci— nothing that could be considered a valid objection. The difficulty was that madame du Mresne de Beauval had become dissatisfied with being merely the wife of a little Languedoc s jigneur like our father, and thought she had someth ig to gain by being the mother-in-law of a comte — especially u con e de Vaiincour. In fact, we had a little quarrel over the matter." " 1 know you had. I heard afterwards that your income had been cut off in consequence. I was very sorry." " So was I, my dear Yvonne." "I felt that I had done you an injury by asking your assistance ; but then, you see, I was so accir tomed to look to you for everything. You had always a good heart, Armand." "An admirable heart," assented the abbe pensively; "in fac. my heart is my strong point." The comtesse smiled, and refrained from making an obvious comment. " At the same time, as your efforts were fruitles , anc' I had to marry the comte, you did me the net best ser«ice you could when you were clever enough to f;et the duchesse de Noailles to appoint me to the vacancy in the household at Madrid." " Ah ! the duchesse and I used to be very good friends," said the abb(J. " Now we are not on terms. She says I am no longer respectable. Imagine that to yourself." " I never told you why I wanted that appointment so particularly." "It is no use quarrelling with people's tastes, my dear Yvonne. Personally, I should have thought even Valincour more civiHsed than Madrid." " I saw an opportunity at Madrid vhich I could find nowhere else in Europe — at that time." " An opportunity for ^v' * ^ " " That is my secret," s the > -,-ntesse, after a pause. " By all means," said the abbo serenely. " Which I am going to teli you." " Better late than never. But why late ? " " Because now you can help me only by understanding me ; 56 B Ikcnt Squire I tt formerly it was not necessary. And by helping me you will help yourself." " I see no objection to that," said the abbd. The comtesse rose, stood in front of Gaultier, and slipped off her dressing-gown. She was without her dress and bodice, and her superb arms, shoulders, and bust, worthy of the Venus of Milo, were bare down to her corset of pale blue satin. " Look at me well, my dear Armand," she said eriously. " It is some years since we met last, and I have < liunged a little, I think. I am desirous of having your unbiassed opinion on my personal appearance. It will be valuable to me as coming from a man of experience who is luckily only one's brother." The abbd duly utilised the opportunity offered him. He leaned back in his chair, with his hands behind his head, and surveyed the face and figure of the comtesse for some seconds. " Well, what is your verdict ? " " My dear Yvonne," said the abbd judicially, " there is no doubt you have developed marvellously since our old days together. I was amazed when I saw you. I • my opinion, whatever it may be worth, you are probably the most beautiful woman in Europe." " I have been under the same impression myself," said the comtesse, putting on her dressing-gown again. " But, at the same time, I might naturally be mistaken ; and, of course, there is no one from whom to get impartial information in the ordinary course of things." "Assuming that our joint verdict is correct," said the abb^, " what is the little secret that I am to hear ? " The comtesse resumed her seat, and looked fixedly at her brother. " My secret, Armand, is that I have an ambition. I have had it ever since I became a woman. I opposed my marriage because it bid fair to frustrate my ambition." The abb^ stretched out his legs, and thrust his hands mto his pockets. " And what is this said ambition ? " he asked. *' I wish to be the ruler of an empire," replied the comtesse calmly. The abb^ put his head on one side, and looked at his sister " It *' tK t^^iiv, TX-'lVlit cin. " Fesfe ! " said he, " that is a very fine idea. Your programme has one conspicuous advantage, if no other." I " Look at iiic well, my doar Armaiul." fai/i- .-r,. H Ikent Squire 57 " What is that ? " " Why, you are pretty safe against the risk of being bored to death by succeeding. Nothing is so annoying as to get what one wants — sometimes. What a field this ambition of yours presents for not being disappointed by anything of that sort ! " The comtesse was not in the least disturbed by this philosophy. " I see you are a little in the dark yet," she said, "and quite naturally. You think I am seeking too much ? " *' On the contrary. But I see some little difficulties." " That is not the point. You have yourself known four women who were not without influence over empires — the duchess of Portsmouth, the duchess of Marlborough, madame de Maintenon, the princesse des Ursins." " True. But each of these women had some advantage which you lack." " For instance ? " *' La Querouaille was sent by one ruler expressly to rule another ruler. No one wants the comtesse de Valincour to be a ruler — except you and me." " Very true, so far." "Sarah Jennings would have been nothing without John Churchill. What is M. de Valincour ? " "Goon." " It took a dozen years of nursery drudgery to turn Fran^oise Scarron, governess, into the marquise de Maintenon, queen sul) rosd." " Without doubt." " Marie-Anne de la Tremouille had to be twice widowed in the best possible style, to have a little court of her own at Rome, and to be sixty-three, before she became dictatress of Spain. Besides, she had to deal with a king of eighteen and a queen of scarcely fourteen— two babies, and one of them next door to an idiot." " All that is true, my good Armand. On the other hand, none of these women were Yvonne de Valincour. That makes all the difference." The abb(! began to entertain a certain respect for this stupendous self-confidence, expressed with such unaffected directness. " I do not contradict you," he said. " Therefore, as all these wcrncn, without either my beauty or my brains— as I conceive— did a good deal of what I wish to do entirely, whtt do you find unreasonable in my idea ? " 58 H Ikent Squire The abbd rubbed his chin meditatively. " Suppose you go on," said he. " We got as far as your ambition, and your marriage with the comte de Valincour. What next?" "I heard that madame des Ursins had asked the duchesse de Noaillcs to send her a lady-in-waiting. Then I saw my opportunity. Thanks to your assistance, I was nominated. Cannot you understand what I went to Madrid for ? " " Let us hear," said the abbd attentively. "The comte was very much flattered by the appointment, and made no objection. It would not have mattered if he had. We travelled to Madrid ';i the suite of the due d'Orl^anj, as you know." " As to the duke ? " asked the abb^ curiously. " Oh ! everybody knew the duke's reputation about women. I simply kept out of his way, so that he saw little or nothing of me before he left to conduct the campaign against the Austrians. It v. ould have been a mere waste of time — then." " Certainly." " The main thing was not to excite the suspicions of madame des Ursins." "About what?" "My dear Armand, you are affecting to be obtuse. About the king, of course." " The king ? I begin to comprehend. Well ? " " In six months I had managed to make the king's life a burden to him. He was madly in love with me, and dared not avow it, even to himself He was terrified lest madame des Ursins should find him out, and he was miserable because he had ceased to care for his wife. I confined myself to being sympathetic. I knew I could do nothing safely while the queen was alive — the imbecile made it quite a matter of conscience." " All this is very interesting," said the abb^ seriously. " And how did you propose to arrange matters ? " " Nothing was in the way but the queen. The queen meant madame des Ursins, and madame des Ursins meant the government of Spain. With the queen away, the king would have given himself to me body and soul. I should have got rid of madame des Ursins in twenty-four hours. Then I should have reigned over an empire in two worlds." The abbe listened with absorbed attention and 2 fiswning wonder. " Nevertheless, the queen being there ? " he asked. *s»5- »• a mcnt Squire 59 "She is very delicate, and the Spanish doctors are miracu- lously stupid." " Creaking gates hang long, I have always heard— even with Spaaish doctors." "i think the doctors could have been persuaded to be too stupid, even for that." " And if their stupidity did not admit of exaggeration ? " " In that case, I daresay I could have managed to be passably stupid myself." ° ';Parbleu! " said the abb^, rubbing his chin. " Some fuss might have been made about that " " Not necessarily." " To say nothing of the difficulty." " It has been found easy enough before." " For example?" "Well, did not Madame die very conveniently for the chevalier de Lorraine, although he was as far away as Rome at the time and what fuss did Charles II. of England make ? None at all." "That's very true." " When Madame's daughter, the late queen of Spain, was got rid of by the Austrian party to make way for Marie- Anne ot Havana, did anybody made a fuss ? " "Probably not. But you must recollect that the people who assisted Henrietta Stuart and Marie-Louise d'Orldans into a better world were a little too high to be criticised." " That only means that more care would have been required m my case. As it happened, I had no opportunity of taking care. Madame des Ursins began to open her eyes " "You quarrelled with her?" an^'^"I.'? l^"" l^""'^'. J "^""^ '^''^''y' ^^^ '"ost devoted adherent and faithful echo. Ihat made it difficult for her to get rid of me or keep me out of the way of the king. Finally, she devised a great coup, and checkmated me." " How was that ? " " Having no possible excuse for dismissing me individually iTr^nuT^' she determined upon sending back the whole 1 rench household m a body. This was on the pretext that It was necessary to throw the king entirely into the hands of the Spanish and thus strengthen his position by dissipating he furious jealousy of the French which was entertained bv tjic fiuiion. '' That was it, was it ? " said the abbd. "Of course, it was useless to resist or protest. We all 6o H Ikent Squire ! left Madrid together, and my husband and myself retired to Valincour." " I heard of your return from Amelot. By the way, why did he leave with the others ? The excuse about the French household could not apply to the French ambassador ? " "He left because 1 left. I thought he might be useful here, so I did not discourage him." " Ah ! so he was another ? " " Yes. And I was right. Through him I am here to-day — he obtained me the nomination to a vacancy in the house- hold of madame la dauphine only last week. In the mean- time, I have lost a year, you see, vegetating at Valincour instead of getting forward." " Then you still cherish this ambition of yours ? " asked the abb^. " I cherish two, naturally." " Two ? " "Failing Spain, I look to France. Also, I have accounts to settle with madame des Ursins." " Of course. And what is the programme now ? " "Have you not guessed?" " Pardieu ! no. The due de Bourgogne is too respectable, and besides, he is too fond of the dauphine." "That remains to be seen. At the same time, I do not reckon on it." "The due de Berri? but he is rather remote." " He is a fool entirely of the wrong sort. He would allow his people to put me in the Bastille." " If you intend to wait for the due de Bretagne, madame des TJrsins will have no particular advantage over you in the way of age." • • ♦ ♦ » The abbe's allusions may perhaps be conveniently elucidated for the reader by a few lines of genealogy. At the period of which we write there were two royal families in France, one being that of Louis XIV., the other that of his deceased younger brother 'Monsieur,' otherwise Philippe, due d'Orldans. Louis XIV. 's only legitimate son, ' Monseigneur,' had died on April r4th, 171 1, the year of our story, partly fulfilling the popular prophecy current long before his death of " Fits de roi, pire de rot. Jamais roi,'^ Monseigneur left three sons. The eldest of these was the due de Bourgogne, now 0' H Ikent Squire 6x now dauphin. The due de Bourgogne had two little sons, the elder of whom, the due de Bretagne (called the 'petit dauphin') was at this date six years old, while the younger was not yet two. Monseigneur's second son was now reigning in Spain as Philippe v., his right of succession to the throne of France having been already renounced by Louis XIV. in the pending negotiations for peace. Monseigneur's third son was the due de Berri. The family of Orleans was represented by Philippe, due d Orleans, only son of ' Monsieur ' (the brother of Louis XIV.) and his second wife, the princess Palatine. By his first wife, Henrietta Stuart (sister of our Charles II. and always spoken of as 'Madame'), Monsieur had had two daughters, of whom the elder, Marie-Louise, had married the late kinc Charles II. of Spain.* The heirs-presumptive to the throne of France were thus in order of claim — ' The due de Bourgogne, grandson of Louis XIV. ; The due de Bretagne and his baby brother, the due d Anjou, great-grandsons of the king ; The due de Berri (assuming Louis XIV. 's renunciation of the king of Spain's claim to hold good) ; And finally, the due d'Orleans, the king's nephew. * * * * j)j The corntesse nodded her head. " You are getting nearer, my dear Armand, without knowing It, she said. "At the same time, I do not intend to wait till I am sixty-three." "Feste! no. May one ask how you propose to achieve your purpose before attaining that fine age?" "I have considered that— I mean as to answering your question. On the whole, I think it would be better not." "Better for you or for me?" " For both — but especially for you." "Doubtless you are very considerate, my dear Yvonne- alUhe same, I fail to understand you." ' "The fact is, Armand, we are a little differently situated in this affair. If matters went wrong " t J. ?"'^" ""^ above, it will be useful for the reader to recollect the two surviviPEr sons of r nnio Ynr „„j __j,_- j_ ,- . i.. "^ 6a a Ikent Squire ••What matters?" '• The matters I have in view- "Well?" "I should hold my tongue. I am under the impression that you would not." " Why should I not hold my tongue, my good sister ? " The comtesse looked at her brother for a second or two before answering. '• I take it," she said, " that as soon as you were in the Bastille, and a few remarks came to be made about the • question extraordinaire ' " " What on earth are you talking about ? " asked the abbd. •• The Bastille and the • question ' are the two first things one has to consider in this sort of affair," replied the comtesse. •• After that, there is the choice of being burnt alive or broken on the wheel — for me. I think it is only men whom they drag to pieces with stallions — so that would be your affair." The abb^ found the converi^ation taking a very disagreeable turn. "Decidedly, my dear Yvonne," said he, "you have a curious way of encouraging people." •' I do not wan* to encourage you. I am only suggesting that, perhaps, it might be more convenient for you not to be in my confidence. I am sure it would distress you to feel obliged, at the first turn of the handle, to repeat all my little secrets to M. d'Argenson. That is why, on the whole, I propose to keep my plans to myself." The abbd did not see any use in affecting the heroic. Moreover, the grapes seemed to grow a good deal out of reach ; in fact, it was not quite certain whether there were any grapes at all. " My dear Yvonne, curiosity is not in the least a failing of mine," he replied. "Only, if I am not to be favoured with your projects, what is the particular occasion for our present interview — apart, of course, from the pleasure of seeing each other again ? " •' The principal point, my dear Armand, is to consider our finances, present and future. Are you in funds, or do you need money ?" "At present I have a few pistoles to spare — which does not happen very often. The other day his majesty paid the expenses of my recent journey, and made me a little present of six thousand livres. Do you want to borrow or lend ? " H' i I a •Rent Squire 6$ "Neither at the moment. But I desire to urge upon vou that the only way m which you can be of real fssisLnce °o me m future, and further your own interests as we wuf be to raise as much money as you can for me. To secure this NTonrthaf Tr'r' ""■ ^' ^^^'"^°''^ ^ year's" com" Not only that, but to carry out my plans, I may at anv moment want to spend money freely " ' -^ "lay at any II That is intelligible," said the abbd. Therefore, if by any means-«;y., you understand-you can lay your hands on a few hundred or thousand pistoles don" drmk or gamble or throw them away, but send^them to me nothing.'"'''"'' '"^ ^"" ^"°^ ' ^° "°' ^"^^^^ - f"- about u vl"' V '""^ "^"'°'^'" '^'^ ^^^ ^^bd. - Anything else ? '» Yes. You ire mtimate with the abbd Dubois ? " VFassably so. u ?K '^, ^^'!^ hand-in-glove with M. d'Orl^ans ? " Absolutely." thl'J,?^^ ^"°''' ""^ '^^^ ^'"'^ °^ ^^^^ other at Madrid-when the duke was commander-in-chief in Spain " II And ready to be king if opportunity offered?" .Kk/t°P .""""^ so-when he was recalled. But as to the ^'"^vith pK".:- '^^^ '"^ ^ ""^^ --s^ ^-- -.'' and alt" ''™ '^^* """"^ ^"' °''^"' "^"^^ ^^^"^ Spain-branches " Will he understand ? " "Probably." " That is all ? " "Yes." The abbd took his hat and stick. Then I will say adieu," said he 1 orcy.' Jea^^4'" ^™™'''" '^'^ '"e connesse, kissing him ,nJ'"' ^''L"^ received his sisters salute with a tolennt a,V ^nltuTnSVra^'^hfc;.^.-^ '--' .He.?£'Xp:d; shJcD/! "' ' """' ™"' '° ™«<= "">^ bearing the™ rC " I have to see M. de The comtesse smiled a little curioa:,Iy. None, she replied. "That would t be fatal." 64 B Ikent Squire " All the better," said the abbd, as he unlocked the c'jor and went out. The comtesse lay back in her chair and meditated. A half-smile parted her lips. " Fatal ? " she murmured to herself. ** Perhaps so. I am sorry I forgot to ask his name." I k 1 CHAPTER IX CONTAINING A SHORT HISTORICAL DIGRESSION After Gwynett had finished his breakfast, he returned to the palace, and proceeded to the wing pointed out to him as being occupied by madame de Maintenon, in order to deliver his letter from the princesse des Ursins. The mention of the latter name elicited the information that the marquise was engaged at the moment, coupled with a respectful request that Gwynett would wait until his name could be sent in to her. He was ushered into a gorgeous ante-chamber leading to the marquise's reception-room, and a seat was offered him, which he was nothing loth to accept. A stream of distinguished personages passed before him for half an hour or more, both arriving and departing. These were various ministers and officials making their reports to madame de Maintenon, who had long been for all practical purposes the actual ruler of France, and who at this time devoted all her energy and ingenuity to further a single object. That object was to keep her august protector and secretly wedded husband from being worried into his grave sooner than could possibly be helped. Hence no business of state was allowed to be laid before the king till it had been examined into by the marquise, and then only if his personal attention to it was unavoidable. Above all, foreign affairs, with their myriad complexities, difficulties, and humiliations, were sedulously kept from him until the marquise and M. de Torcy had between them made things as intelligible, as easy, and as rose-coloured as circumstances would permit. Thus the marquise's reception-room became every morning a sort of office-nf-all-work for state affairs ; and Crwvnstt s.'iw pass and repass before him almost every head of a department other than those of mere routine. H fkcnt Squire 65 ./'"^!!^;^ ''^?^ middle-aged man, who walked with difficulty emerged from between the porii^res of the salon door. ^' Do you know M de Torcy ?" asked the usher of Gwynett .JJt, ^^^'^'^^^^ his head, the usher approached de Torcy and said something m a low tone. The marquis came up to Gwynett and said very courteously ^ Gwyneu boweY' ^'""^ "^''^''"' ^'' ^'''"^' ^- Gwynett?" " I am on my way to the king at the moment, but I will lettrh'i; '°°" "' ^ ^'" ^'^ "^^J^^^y- ^" ^he meantime you w kh f. ii^"" '" V^u '^''^"'^" ''^^ °"^^- She may probabW wish to see you. Perhaps you will be good enough lo wait ? '' The marquis signed to a chamberlain, and took the le ter Ht'th'iTffidar'""'- ""' '""'^"^^ '''' ^--' -, . touching the speaker with a pair of tongs assumed an ex pressiono extreme blandness, and looked It' tl" celling ''" said he °T Tn? '"u/^^ ^^^°"' ^° ^'^-^'^ ^" J^our. M. I'abbd " rather in Jhe'air.^ '^" '"''^"'^ ^^^^^^^ °" ^'^^ ^"^ nose The abbd gave a snort of disgust. bed Rn/Lc\^'°''''?' "^ "^'S'^' ^^ ^ell have stayed in Ti,. uw ^'^ ^^'Sands are always ungrateful." ^ 66 a *ent Squire it in daylight, at least— were tabooed in the precincts f the palace. So he strolled r.nind to the royal stables, and treated the stablemen to a display of the knowledi^e of horse- flesh he had picked up at Newmarket and elsewhere during his residence in England. Before we follow the marquis into the august presence of Louis XI\'., we will venture ro efresh the reader's memory upon one or two of the subjects which were to enter into the impending consultation between the king and his minister. The great war of the Spanish succession, following on the death in 1701 of Charles II. (the hut king of the Austrian dynasty in Spain), was now drawing to a close. It had been provoked by Louis, who had made use of a will, extorted by his ambassador from the imbecile and dying Charles, to place his own second grandson (then duko of Anjou) on the throne of Spain as Philippe V. This was in flagrant violation of a previous treaty with England and the Dutch, by which the succession was assigned to the archduke Karl of Austria, second son of Leopold, emperor of Germany, who was a cou n of Charles II. of Spain, and had married his sister. To further improve matters, Louis had t,.ken ccasion on the death of our ex-king James II. at St. Germain, in 1701, to recognise his son (queen Anne's brother) as king of England under the title of James III. This united all the English parties, except he Jacobites, in a burst of patriotic fury. The old Grand Alliance with the Empire and die United Provinces was renewed, and in 1702 war was commenced with Louis and Philippe to expel the latter from his new sovereignty. The operations of the Allies were directed, duiing the whole of the long struggle, by an inseparable triumvirate of three of the ablest men in Europe. These were the duke of Marlborough, for a long time absolute dictator of England, but now the only survivor in office of the Whig party; Heinsius, grand pensionary of Holland, the old colleague of William III. in the States- General of the United Provinces; and prince Eugene of Savoy, generalissimo of the Imperial forces. After nine years of warfare, in Spain and out of it, the powerful monarchy of Louis had been brought to the vercre "" J " ii-tircthciea acrica ui luiiuury uisasiers and the enormous cost in blood and treasure of the protracted contest. On the other hand, king Philippe V.— thanks to w w W a fkcnt Squire 67 was now emperor of Germany. "i "le maJt ime, This altered everything. .hri'nr^i '■""'"?'>■ P"""''''^ "'■"■ 'f "'^y !<>'' I'hilippe V. on his enormous pos ,„s of Spain ,o .hose of France king oTspaln" it . '"." ','"= ™""^™ ^'" ^I-. if made ren^ s (ijhaijv^L^^ilr.' ,;: tr-hfTh^'s '''°™r ?^ ngh.s to .he French successio'n \*crea ' ar V T.fZl K™rSpa"nTh cl's^r^„nT„"e^tn,t'.':frk " ' arransenrenes S tS nV^^.ia l^T"';!^?. ™''^„;' X' of Hanover (ti-e'L^-LSd''; ! nrstc:",';^ t"" Anne) swore that a Tory neace sv h Vr^ '° ^"^'-'" ,— . ..rn of the chLEVs? O^eo^^. Z^^^ paScf*' tei"t/pS"zf \,rrr -^ dismh d from offir-f hi\ ,>^ii.; i r ■ V^' ^ auchess was «!and. Lu. he was. nevertheless, still the arbiter oT'ihe • Usually styled the 'Old Pretender.' *y -1 I MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 LI 1.25 '-lis ^ m 1^ 13.6 !I4.0 1.4 2.5 1 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 A /1PPLIED IM/IGE Inc SSr. 1653 East Main Street ^S Rochester, New York 14609 USA — (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone ^S (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax 68 a ment Squire situation on the continent. It did not yet appear whether it would pay best to betray the queen, the elector, or the chevalier de St. George. So the duke watched and waited. tl CHAPTER X A PRIVY COUNCIL The king looked up from the perusal of a state paper when the marquis de Torcy was announced, and nodded silently. Louis XIV. was now over seventy-three years old, broken m health and spirits, and bowed down with the burden of half a century of despotic sovereignty. But he was still as ever during his reign, punctilious in his dress and bearing allowing no sign of the invalid to appear in his attire and very little m his manner. He was wearing the royal mourning of purple for the death of Monseigneur, his only legitimate son and the heir to the monarchy, in the preceding April The marquis saluted the king, seated himself at the table which stood near, and opened his portfolio of reports " The most important, sire," he said, " is a verbal one from the abbe Gaultier, who has come over with some letters from M. St. John, which really contain nothing at all." The king looked rather disgusted. "Can't you manage to do without that scoundrel?" he asked. " He has been well paid." M. de Torcy shrugged his shoulders. "He has been extremely useful so far, sire. Besides, he IS none the worse spy for being called an envoy. One doesn't go to a pig-sty for attar of roses." "Well, what is new?" "It appears, sire, that lord Oxford's government show a disposition to make peace with us at all hazards, if they can override the House of Lords. This has been so obvious in °f ^^" ?^* ^^- I'^'yenberg and Vrybergen have been furious and M. de Galas has been warned that he may be deported unless he moderates the tone of his representations." Kryenberg was the resident minister in London of the elector of Hanover Vrybergen the envoy of the United Provinces, and the comte de Galas the ambassador of the new emperor of Germany, Karl VI. All of these were hand-in- ,:;■■! B fkcnt Squire 69 he glove with Marlborough and the Whig leaders ; and each of them, for his own separate reasons, was busy arguing that a pe?.ce with France at the present juncture was something too monstrous even for argument. In the meantime, Menager had practically come to an agreement with the Tory cabinet m England, behind the backs of the Allies, "Then what is lord Oxford waiting for? " asked the king "They are all afraid of the duke, sire." *^ I'es^e / have they not cut his claws sufficiently ? " " Sire, if they have cut his English claws pretty well they have not cut his Dutch, Hanoverian, and German claws at all. From what Gaultier learns, if lord Oxford persuaded the queen to dismiss the duke from the lord-generaiship, the Dutch would in a week declare for an immediate invasion of En^^land by the elector of Hanover." ° " But we have offered to recognise the Act of Settlement and the Protestant succession for the last three years " said the king. ^ ' " True, sire ; but the court party don't care a sou for the Protestant succession. Queen Anne herself hates the elector like poison, and would much rather be succeeded bv the chevaher. ^ "The king, M. de Torcy," corrected Touis, with rather a frown. "I thought we had got beyond all that," said the marquis curtly. bt. Germain has cost us enough already, sire It IS time your majesty had a cheaper almshouse." The marquis was apt to lose his temper over the Stuart alliance and the misfortunes which had accompanied it uXPV/°''^^^ yourself, marquis," said the king angrily. _ Well sire, let neither of us forget the really important point— that it is Marlborough, and no one else, who can save us or undo us. If Oxford makes peace with us and recalls the English forces, Marlborough is laid on the shelf— and Marlborough on the shelf is worth at least a hundred and lord" eneraT"" Pounds a year less than Marlborough the " Impossible ! " cried Louis. "Perfectly possible, sire— two or three salaries, com- missions on all contracts and on all promotions, pickings everywhere, besides pocketing the pay of whole regin^ents of W?J^?k ", ^h^J""ster-roii while they have been dead and a^A A ,\^u •^°'^" y^^"- Y°" see, sire, one loses a good deal by being only a secretary of state." 70 H ment Squire (I i'f n It will be observed that the duke's skill in finance was no secret to his contemporaries. " But the duchess must be wealthy," said the king, ignoring de Torcy's last remark. " No doubt. They say she and the duke used to make ninety thousand pounds a year out of their home appointments and the sale of offices. But all that is over, sire. Since the duchess was dismissed — all the worse for us " "Not altogether," said Louis. "It was then that M. Harley and his cousin the chambermaid sent your blackguard Gaultier to us. They, at all events, are ready to come to terms with us." "Sire, these Marlboroughs are insatiable. They are the son and daughter of the horse-leech. Now that the duchess cannot make money, the duke must make all the more. If he cannot make it as an English general, he will want to make it as a Dutch, or Hanoverian, or Imperial general. It would have paid us, sire, to have let him make it as a French general." Louis had refused to give Marlborough a commission in the French army when lord Lockhart, the English ambassador in Paris, asked for a colonelcy for him in May, 1674— a refusal extended to prince Eugene a few years la.er. The king recollected these two enormous blunders only too well, without any reminder from the marquis. The latter went on,' "Whatever the English ministry does, sire, the other Allies will continue the war, if Marlborough chooses. We shall still have Heinsius, the prince, and the duke to count with, and behind them all the forces of Hanover, the States- General, and the Empire." " This is confirmed by all your other news ? '' asked the king, after a pause. " Ves, sire. Peace with England, but wiU Marlborough, means the continuation of the war, with the , j at the head of our enemies." " And the continuation of the war means ruin i* " "Ruin, and worse, sire —the dismemberment of the monarchy. The Dutch will take Flanders and the emperor Alsace and Lorraine— probably a slice of Gascony and Languedoc to lack on to Spain when he has expelled your majesty's giandson— and madame des Ursins." The king seemed stupefied at this prophecv. " A partition of France ? " he muttered mechanically. " Nothing less, sire." a Ikent Squire 7' •J " The whole country shall be. laid waste first," said the king, ireinbling with rage. " Impossible, sire." " Why impossible ? " "Your majesty's farmers-general have done it already, for all practical purposes." The marquis always felt sore at having had to take ofifice after a series of predecessors who, in order to administer magnificendy, had left the country so bankrupt that M. de lorcy could hardly administer at all. The king ignored the jibe. " Well ? " said he. " Peace or no peace, sire, one thing is necessary." "And that is ?" " Marlborough must be bought, sire." " We tried to buy him two years ago at the Hague." " Well, after a fashion, sire. When I reached the Hague, by the skin of my teeth, and went to M. Heinsius— by the way, sire, did I teil you I was kept waiting in his ante-room nearly forty minutes ? " This seemed the last straw to Lou's XIV. "Kept waiting!" he exclaimed, a; if his ears must have deceived him. "Yes, sire. Tit for tat, probably." " How, marquis ? " ' " Your majesty may recor ct that when M. Heinsius came here once on an embassy from William III.— when things were rather different, sire " The marquis's reminiscences usually annoyed Louis ;' Well?" said he sharply. ^ '^ M. Louvois threatened to throw him into the Bastille." ." We are all liable to make mistakes occasionally, marquis " True, sire. We made a mistake when I went to M. Hemsius, and from him to the duke— we did not bid high enough." •| We offered him four millions of livres." * "Yes, sire— two millions for a peace that would enable us either to keep Naples and Sicily for the king of Spain, or o keep Strasburg, or to keep Dunkirk; or three millions for both Naples and Dunkirk ; or four millions for the Italian provinces, Dunkirk, and Strasburg altogether. But he would not nibble, sire. Naturally, for he and th*» Hn^h^cc «,^,,m * About ;^3oo,ooo. • 7a U fkcnt Squfrc make that much in a year and a half of the war, and he would reckon on keeping up the war for three years at least " In fact, the worthy marquis tells us in his " M^moires " he 'trnnS^ ^'^''^'r '""^^^^ ^ ^^^ ^"^^ ^'^ not even take the trouble to refuse the bribe offered, but merely turned the conversation. ^ II We could not have afforded more," said the king. -ru\ ^"^^" "^""^ "°^ ^^ cannot afford as much " Ihe king bethought him of the royal manifesto circulated in 1709, which had brought in a considerable sum, in volun- AuL^ purpose of carrying on the war with the "■^^^fJ^^^^S^e negotiations failed," said he, "the nation responded nobly to my appeal for resources " fnr^^Z T^' f^- ^"' .'^ •' °"^ ^^^"S to ask Frenchmen f^ o^Tk^ to make war against a host of invaders, and another to ask them for money to make peace with a single man." What have we in the treasury?" asked the king, after a pause. °' " Less than a million livres, sire." nJnT"!,''';;^!''^ •^'''"''^ ^^' "°' ^ P^^t'^y "'''"on to call his own ! cried Louis, exasperated by his humiliations and his poverty. " No, sire." "It appears therefore, M. le marquis, that the king has no financiers either." ^ "Certainly no one who can squeeze juice out of a sucked orange sire. The orange was juicy enough in the time of M. Colbert and M. Louvois-when I had not the honour of serving your majesty." the' iratt Sg.""'"'''"'' '" '^°'' '^^^'' ^^ ^' "^''^"'''" ^"^PP^*^ The marquis lost his temper at this comparison. r.iK ?5 '''Z^'^- .^"' th^t d'd "°t prevent my uncle Colbert from dying of a broken heart at your majesty's way of recognising his ability, nor M. Louvois from expiring just out with a pXn""' """'""'' '''" ''■°"'^^' of knocking his briins Louis could never bear any allusion to the terrible inter- view with his imperious minister, in which the sudden entry of madame de Maintenon had alone checked an outbreak of perhaps fatal violence on the part of the 1rinc._ai! »»>- -rn- lamentable because Louvois, already dangerously ilL died soon afterwards. ^ & / "i, uicu I H Ikent Squire 73 after " M. le marquis," said Louis angrily, « if you prefer the Bastille to my cabinet, you have only to say so." " Sire," replied de Torcy, as angry as the king, " I should have preferred it any time the last five years." " Let us make up for lost time, M. le marquis." The marquis opened a drawer, took out a written paper and handed it to the king. ' 'I There is a lettre de cachet, sire. Overwhelm me with obligations by filling it up," and the marquis threw himself back in his chair with the air of a scH .Iboy receiving a holiday. "What! no more despatches, no more reports, no more negotiations, no more appeals, no more slavery ! Pardieu ^ To think that to-night, for the first time for fifteen years I shall be able to go to sleep without troubling myself about to-morrow morning ! Verily, I see the gates of Paradise open- mg to me before my time I " J!?x '^•"g scrawled a furious signature to the lettre de cachet. M. de Bernaville is an excellent hand at picquet, and I know his chef well," went on the marquis. •« I shall eniov my evening, enormously. I have only one request to make sire, and that is, that when M. de Marlborough enters Paris with his armies you will persuade him not to disturb me My comphments to my numerous able successors, sire " And the marquis pushed his portfolio across the table, took a prolonged pinch of snuff, and proceeded to smooth the feather 01 his hat with extreme deliberation. The king, struck to the heart with this bitter raillery, sank back m his chair. His head fell upon his breast. All the triumphs, the glories, the tragedies, and the enormous disasters of his long reign rose in his memory. He thought of the far away time when he had been powerful, wealthy, beloved worshipped ; when two successive kings of England had been his paid lackeys ; when his word had been law in half Ji^urope. Now he was old, weary, crushed, bankrupt, sick le^JT' '^T-ir ^\''' "^° ^^d ^^^^d him so wdl anS served him so brilliantly were all dead. Maria di Mancini Henrietta Stuart, Louise de la Vallibre, Athenais de Montespa^ Mane de Fontanges, were no more. His great ministers and generals, Colbert, Turenne, Louvois, Conde, Vauban Luxembourg, all had passed away. His son, the heir to hS throne, resided in a newly made grave. Only his enemies iciimuica— Mariborough, Heinsius, the elector', Eugene, the emperor; and they were more powerful than evL The monarchy was shaken to its foundations. All Europe was 74 a Iftent Squire thirsting to destroy it. Except the man who sat opposite him, he had not one faithful friend in the world. The king lifted his head, swepf the lettre de cachet on to the floor, and looked at de Torcy w lih eyes weary of every- thing in earth and heaven. " M. le marquis," said he at length, " do you think it is amusing to have been king of France for eight-and-sixty years ? " The marquis melted in a moment at the unutterable mourn- fulness of the aged face before him, and the voice which seemed to come from a tomb. "Pardon, sire, pardon! Blame my infirmities and the cursed worries of my office— not myself. I shall die, I trust in your majesty's service." ' " I hope not, marquis," said the king gently. " My grand- son will want you no less than I. But to business again. You did not come to-day to propose nothing ? " " No, sire. But I wanted your majesty to see that there is absolutely nothing left for us but what I am going to propose." "Well?" •' Your majesty see3 that we must buy Marlborough. Now Marlborough will cost us about a million sterling— say twelve or thirteen millions of livres." " And we have only a million livres in the treasury ? " " Less than a million, sire. And no possibility of raising any more by taxes. The people have nothing ; the peasants are everywhere dying of starvation, the traders are bankrupt. Nevertheless, there is plenty of money, sire." " Where, marquis ? " asked the king uneasily. " Sire, who own a third of all the property in France, and have never paid a sou of taxes or war-contributions ? Who could buy Marlborough ten times over, and never miss the money ? " The king looked very much disturbed. "Explain yourself, marquis." " I speak of the clergy, sire." " What, marquis ! " whispered the king, in terrified tones. " Levy on the Church ? " " I said the clergy, sire. The Church, if you like." " Impossible, marquis." "Sire, the Church— the Gallican Church— has you for its head, and must come to the rescue of the country when its head summons it." •posite him, achet on to y of every- think it is it-and-sixty ble mourn- Dice which s and the lie, I trust, My grand- gain. You that there \ going to agh. Now -say twelve of raising le peasants bankrupt. ranee, and ns ? Who r miss the Red tones. 'ou for its •i when its a Ikeut Squtre 75 " Sacrilege, marquis." conquest ?'''"''^^' ''''^' *° ^^^^ "^^ ^^"'"^'^ ^'°*^ ^ Protestant ^I tell you it is impossible. The marquise " appeareu in the openmg. " I am here, sire," she said. de Maimenon!' '°''' ^""^ ^°''''^' '^^^ "^^^^"^er was madame CHAPTER XI A STATE SECRET " Pardon, sire, for interrupting you and M. de Torcv " said the marquise, " but I have a communication from Madrid too important to delay for a moment. This is what the pnncesse writes," and she handed a letter, bearing the seal of madame des Ursins, to the king. ^ °* The king took the letter rather indifferently. Madrid news was usually unpleasant, and he had long ago been sick of the very name of the Spanish succession. ^^^ "The messenger brings also a letter from the king of Spain to your majesty," proceeded the marquise. - He had proposed to present It through M. de Torcy. I ventured to reHeve the marquis of the duty." relieve rne M. de Torcy looked rather uneasy. But the marquise bv a nod, gave him to understand that there was not^g to be feared, and laid the second letter before the king ^ Louis broke the seal and read the letter. Arfexpression or wonder and relief lit up his face. expression oi "A miracle!" he murmured. "Pead marnnfc " o„^ u passed the letter to de Torcy. ' "'^'^"''' ^nd he It ran: " Sire and revered grandfather goryuuiciu vviiharaws irom the coalition ** fii': IP ■X il ^^ a "ffvent Squire amounting to about a millinn anri { u u c ■ ?*" '"® Indies, this sum 1^1 charge of tTie ^n? r ""'f."^ P'i'°'^'- ^^ P^^ce serving as volunteer wh Me durde'Ve'n f"^"^""!f" ''^^'y mended to us bv mJuLl J rV VendOme. and recom- Philippe." The marquis smiled at this diplomacy. "What is all that ? " asked the marquise, ine king gave an alarmed elance at da Tn,«. ,.i,- i, .■. mm,ster understood perfectly will ^^' ^^'"'^ *= your'hand°i ' '^°" ""' '^ => *" « '""^M bearing it*l^ sacTacinT'^f m™h t^" ''''"■"" ^^8"=' =" *' "iea of prospealflTsswor'tyforthLT'*' ""' ""^'^"'™ ^' *^ sai'd^Sy-^-^iirtt^stj.?^^^"^'-' ^- -^^ T-^" ^"^ the' dector-thf ™inT !'fV'"'>°™'-'§'^ « '"■^ "-^i"--. dictators in one lo^lith a baS "P'^ ■"'', '">P"°'-five It is^ot dear besidesTwe ha^no'choi^^^'"^ *'°™ '"■ "S r» i^ • J money? •• asked the king. Site, tt ,s on board sh.p at Calais. M.'cwynetthas had ■'f people that :e with your for France, 1. ' be able to the half of the Indies, We place hmati lately and recom- itleman, an understand is intended >ly keeping. HILIPPE." lifficult to ley out of renchman f relished aniards. "Say a • majesty We are 'hich the had not borough, ring it in ! idea of I at the •cy," she {einsius, or — five own in. has had a ment Squire 77 some curious experiences while in charge of it, which deserve recognition at your majesty's hands. Would your majesty care to receive him ? He is waiting in the palace " The king was rather pleased to hear of some variation from his usual routine, which consisted of religious services and of^bad news from every point of the compass in about equal baZ'hLlil" ''' '" """' ""^"'^^'" ^^ ^^'^' '^--"S Madame de Maintenon disappeared through ih^ portihes. Ihe marquis had I)cen busying himself in calculating how the three and a half millions of sprats could be made to 00^. like whales in the eyes of the state creditors. Finally, he looked up, and said, ^' cni fi'^' '^ '' °^, "'""'■'^ P°'''^'^ ^^^^ ^e may buy our pig and still find our poke empty. Suppose M. de Marlborough takes our money, and betrays us after all ? " ^ '•That would be too monstrous," said the king. Without doubt. Nevertheless, if the duke hapnens to behave too monstrously, what then ? " "appens to innlcenUy^ ''""""^''^ '' "°' ^' '° •'""'" ""^^ '^^ '^^"g' ^^'^e "Precisely my opinion, sire," agreed the marquis drily Ba^cty."' """' '"' '""'^'^^ "°^ ^° ^^"P'd - G?andval o'; The king looked keenly at de Torcy. Grandval was a ^^h'"' ^^^^^'^Ployed in 1792 brthe marquis de Ba b^sleux (the son and successor of Louvois), at the instigation of Louis and James II. to assassinate William III. Grandval had Wnllnn ' "' ^T ^^^V^ht, a couple of accomplices-Dumont a Walloon, and Leefdale, a Dutchman. These worthies pr^mlv betrayed their employer, who was tried, convicted a^dexecTed^ leaving behind him a full confession of the p lo^ which had naturally annoyed Louis very much. On the other hand th. assassination plot of Barclav in r-rnfi / k t • • ' ^"^ bv Tames TT inH ««i ^ . /^y '" ,^790 (which was instigated beinrr.if ■ ° '^ ^T^^^ ^^ ^y Louis) had failed through ev ta^^ir^result'^ t -" t ^'''^ T""'^ P^^^°"^' ^^^^^ the fn tvitaoie result c. I.e ng betrayed three times over. ^^ 1 said nothing about that," said Louis. Very good, sire. There is no hurrv But T wi^h T i,«^ a^m^an just fool enough to be ready to try'," an^d"not7ool Jnough A knock was heard at the outer door of the cabinet Th* marquis rose, went out, and returned with Gwynett ' ' AS 78 a ftent Squire "Sire," said he, "this is the gentleman who has been eood enough to execute the comnmsion of madame des uS to your majesty." '-rsmb Gwynett bowed profoundly. The king looked at him for a moment m silence wondering at the power, courage, and dignity which seemed instinct in the magnificent form of heVel7o':tl;Tstnd^^'"'^'"^" ^^'° ''^^' ^'^^ ^^^ ^^^n "We are much in your debt, monsieur," said he, as Gwynett knelt to kiss his hand, and then stepped back. '' Real! the princesse knows how to choose a messenger, marquis " " De Torcy just refrained from shrugging his shoulders One handsome Englishman,' as Jack Churchill was cal ed Z exce//en,ehad been enough for him. and he was not dispoS o be enthusiastic over another. The king looked at the ktter from madame des Ursins. "^'^ " You are well known to the princesse ? " he asked Gwynett S.re I have had the good fortune to perform some triSin« services for madame des Ursins, that is all." ^ " You have borne arms in Spain ? " "Sire, M de Vendome was so good as to offer me a company early in last winter " '' VVhich you refused ? " said Louis, referring to the letter in th f^T S"'^ 1° ^'^^^P'' '''^' ^hile an English army was . ^^ K • u ^"' ^^.^ ^^y ^^'^'" ge^e^^J Stanhope's surrender I went with the marshal as a volunteer " ^-urrenaer .K ^^"^'?' Stanhope, commanding the English contingent of the allied force in Spain, had been cut off from his Aus"r an colleague general Starhemberg, and shut up in B huegT by the due de Vendome, to whom he surrendered on December loth, 1710 after fighting till all his ammunition was exhausted The next day Vendome and Starhemberg met in the battle of Jf h ^^^'°^^V^hich, although drawn, finally decided the fate ltro7tain.^^'' ^"' '-'' '"''^'^ '' ^"^-^ -^'-^P-" said th^e'^kTng"" ^°°^ ^""'^ '" °'"" ^'^^^ "^'^^^'^ °^ ^'^"^ ^^^^o^a ? " " I was at Villa Viciosa, sire." the\X TXhlsm'^' "P' ^"' ^°°^ ^^^ ''^-^y °^ -"tinuing wajntg'imonaiion?' ' "''"^' "°"^'^"^'" '^ ^^^''' -^^ ^ "Well, M. le marquis." said Gwynett, who saw nothing to brag about in the affair, "we did not come off very wSf !n 1 a "Rent Squire 79 been good des Ursins at him for urage, and It form of im. Then IS Gwynctt Reall . , the s." lers. One called par >t disposed t the letter I Gwynett. me trifling ?er me a e letter, army was surrender tingent of 1 Austrian huega by December xhausted. battle of 1 the fate idisputed ^iciosa ? " intinuing i, with a )thing to well, in my opinion. It is true general Starhemberg retreated to Barcelona after the fight, but I'm sure I never understood why." The king looked curiously at this young man, who took so little trouble to speak smooth things in royal ears. "Here is someone," he thought to himself, "whose opinion about my grandson will be worth having." He proceeded aloud, "And how did you leave the duke? Was his appetite as good as ever?" " Better, sire." "/*«/vnac he considered her officious meddling with affairs of state. It is true he had been won over by her irresistible manners, and had sent her back with 8o a Ikent Squire 1;^ ■ ;!ii «i U ii fuller powers than before. But this was only because he found his grandson's throne was not worth six weeks' nurchasp without her. ^ " Frenchmen are unfortunately not welcome in Spain " said battles"^' " ^'"'''^^ ''''''''' ^^^^ ^'^ ^"'^"^ ''' ^^^*'"S Spanish " It was a great inspiration of your majesty to send a Frenchwoman, sire, who keeps very much alive," hazarded Gwynett. "Very good," thought the marquis. "Decidedly this is a sharp fellow," " You are a great champion of the princesse, it appears monsieur, said the king, without any appearance of dissatis- laction. "Her highness has always been extremely kind to me, oil C^a The king referred again to the letter. "She had you at court a short time, I hear." " Yes, sire." "Why?" " Sire, wher. the princesse honoured me with this commission the galleons had not yet arrived from Mexico, and I had to wait. Unfortunately, the Spaniards, while they dislike all foreigners, hate the English like poison, and it was troublesome to live in Madrid. " Did they make you uncomfortable ? " "Very much so, sire. I was stabbed twice, shot at four times, and had to fight seven duels, in the first fortni^rht " Good Lord ! " said the king, who began to be interested. How did you manage to come off with a whole skin ? " Sire, after the first knife-thrust, which only scratched me I always wore a very nice shirt of steel rings given me bv an uncle of mine, who had received it as a present from Ferdinand Gonzaga. Then, it happened that the gentlemen who fired at me were very bad shots -at least, I presume so." Perhaps they got their powder from a government con- tractor," said de Torcy, soUo voce. "And the duels?" -hlnce^' '" ^^'^^ °^ ^^^^ ^ '^"^ '''"'^^' ^^ ^°°" ^^ ^ sot the One of his rare smiles passed across the king's face " How was that ? " he nsked. " Well, sire I had no seconds~in fact, they were affairs on the spur of the moment ; and my antagonists had friends who :) I .^ a Ikent Squire 8i e he found purchase pain," said g Spanish send a hazarded this is a t appears, >f dissatis- d to me, had a habit of getting too much behind one. was a wall near, that was very inconvenient." Unless there amission, I had to islike all ublesome t at four ;ht." iterested. ?" ^hed me, 1 me by 2nt from intlemen ume so." ent con- got the fifairs on nds who "Doubtless — and the other four?" " As to the three first, sire, there was no trouble. In the last, I slipped on a stone as my opponent was making a pass, and received his thrust through my sword-arm." " Ah ! and then ? " "Before he could disengage, sire, I knocked him down with my left fist. Then I picked up my sword and went away. I understood he was found there afterwards, but whether he was killed with the blow or the fall I don't know. After this, the princesse was good enough to ask me to occupy a room' at the Escurial, to prevent accidents." "And how did you like living in the palace?" " Well, sire," replied Gwynett, who had never felt so much bored in his life as during the period in question, " there is a medium in all things. On half a dozen occasions, for instance, I have had reason to be extreme^ thankful that the ditch I had to sleep in was a dry one." " Do you hear that, de Torcy ? " said Louis. " This gentle- man and I have a good deal the advantage of you in experiences." This was an allusio.. j the king's early youth, burnt in upon his memory, when Mazarin kept him in rags, without fires in winter, and provided with food just on a par with that of the royal scullions. Earlier in his reign this reminiscence used to fill him with fury. Now the sting of it seemed to have died out. He turned again to Gwynett, who was by this time beginning to be doubtful whether his weakness would permit him to keep on his legs much longer. "Something has been said about your recent voyage monsieur," said the king. "You had some difficulty in reaching Calais with this F/eitr de Lys of yours ? " II Yes, sire," replied Gwynett, unable to help giving a lurch. ^^ V^ hat IS the matter ? " asked de Torcy, catching hold of him. A thousand pardons, sire— but if your majesty will kindly allow me to lean against M. de Torcy's chair " At this instant madame de Maintenon appeared between the portieres. Perhaps she had been listening to the con- versation. 'j Sire," said she, " M, Gwynett has been at death's door, aiiu IS stiii very weak." "Sit down, monsieur," said the king, not unkindly. "Some wme, de Torcy." 82 a ikent Squire n. J^f T '''It.'?''^^^'^'"^'^ P^^'^^ 0^ consideration on the part of Louis XIV. Twenty years before, his majesty would have thought ,t simply monstrous if anyone should permit himself to be otherwise than perfectly well in the royal presence Now that he had fallen upon evil days, the crust of his ineffable ocn rrP?\ K '"l" ^"'"r^^^t broken into, and it occasionally occurred to him to make allowance for infirmities which feTbtherhi^^^^^^^^ ""^'^'''^'^-^ ^'^ --^"^^ ->d "Here is a young fellow who gets on quickly," he said to himself, as he reached over for the tall Venice-glass flagon which contained the king's favourite white LachrymrcSi and poured out a glass for Gwynett. The latter had sunkbto the nearest chair, nearly unconscious, but the rich sacramental wine revived him immediately. 'turdmeniai rJ ^iJ^P^ ^- gwynett desires his majesty's permission to retire ? " suggested the marquise, who, like madame des U?sins was not too old to entertain a sneaking kindness for such a preux chevalier as our hero. "Not at all, madame," replied Gwynett. "If his maiestv will pardon a passing weakness, I am quite at his serv ce " And he rose again to his feet ='crvice. monSu'JT'' Thl' "^7"'" ^^f 'u^ ''^"S- " ^^""^ '' good wine, monsieur? The only good thing one gets from having the crown ofSpam in one's family." ^'tvxng me The reader who is learned in vintages will recollect that the wine m question comes from Monte Somma, near Vesuvius and consequently m the kingdom of Naples, which constitS part of the Spanish empire till the treaty of Utrecht, in iVi, assigned it to the house of Austria. ' ^' hZ-'^^^u-^'^fr ^bou^your voyage?" proceeded the king, helping himself to a glass. ^' "It was very unlucky, sire. But for the fact that I was much accustomed to the sea as a boy, I certainly should have failed in my commission to your majesty " h.M^^^^K^ 1^-^ Maintenon, who had seated herself a little behind the king, gave Gwynett a signal to go on. Our hero who was very desirous not to bore the king before he had a Story ' " '"'' ^"'"'^^ "" ^'' own'account, resumed "I was directed to join the brig at Cadiz, sire, and we set to he"' '* ''''' '"" ""'" '"^ '^' ^"P^^'"' ^^o belonged " Spaniards ? " a Ikent Squire 83 tion on the ajesty would ould permit yal presence, his ineffable occasionally nities which arquis could he said to glass flagon 'mae Christi, id sunk into sacramental ;rmission to des Ursins, for such a his majesty lis service." good wine, having the !ct that the ' Vesuvius, constituted It, in 1 7 13, the king, hat I was lould have :lf a little Our hero, 2 he had a :, resumed nd we set belonged Impossible to say, sire. They belonged to any nationality that was convenient for their usual avocafon." " A' I and that was ? " '' ' 'i .ggling, sire, when it was not piracy." "1 vateers, perhaps, monsieur?" " That sounds better, sire, no doubt." " Go on." " Off Ferrol, sire, it began to blow a hurricane, and the crew took to praying before their principal madonna." "Thus they could hardly have been pirates, monsieur" mterpolated the marquise. ' " Piety is to be lauded, in any walk of life," said the king who felt obliged to be in the fashion. "Without doubt, sire. At the same time, a little seaman- ship would not have been out of place. While they were on their knees, a tremendous sea came over the bows, and four men were swept overboard. The next day the captain and another man were so badly hurt by a falling spar that they died within twelve hours." / " " Dear ! dear ! that's six out of seven," observed the king. Yes, sire. The mate and I had the ship on our hands for a couple of days, and then he fell sick. From that time 1 had to work the brig single-handed." " But such a thing is impossible," said the king " Quite so, sire— therefore I did not attempt it. Luckily the wind was steady from the sou-h-west and not at all rough " The finger of Providence," remarked the marquise Owynett bowed and went on. " All I had to do, sire, was to leave the sails as they were and stick to the wheel." ' ' " With no help from the mate ? " ''On the contrary, sire, he had to be nursed— in fact, he died when we were entering the Channel." " And when did you sleep ? " " There was no opportunity of sleeping sire " ^^^'^' Bless my soul ! " said the king. " And how long did that "About ten days, sire." ii A"f ^^^ ^°" ^^^ "° P^^^'"g sh'P that could assist you ? " .nH ?h"/ °"^' '''^' u^*'^' ^^^^ ^"y opportunity of speaking, and that was worse than nothing at all—PvrPnf tLt T pot ^^]f an hour's sleep." *■■ " '"""" ^ ^^^ "^^^ ..iSf^ f^""!"? ^^^^^i'^^ ^'^ experiences with the Dutch gahot, of which mention has already been made in this 84 :S ' Iti. H ikent Squire arrivaf'arCaSs"^ "^ ^^ narrating the circumstances of his "Monsieur," said madame de Maintenon, with her air of devote, your escape was nuraculous, and due to a direct interposition of providence. I trust you have recognised that ? » Certainly, madame," replied Gwynett, wondering what view the captain and crew of the Fleur de Lys took of the matter, " We have a report from M. Daguerre, sire," said de Torcy but I have not yet opened it." ^' "It will keep," said Louis. "You have done well, M. Owynet^ and have aid us under greater obligations than we are at liberty to explain ; » and the king bowed graciously Wonders will never cease," thought de Torcy, who had had occasion to find out how rarely Louis XIV. had the grace to appreciate courage and endurance displayed in his service fh.; T^" '^^"T^"^ ^^^ y'""^^ ^°^' ^"d began to hope' that these fine speeches might be taken as an encouragement to make the request he had m petto. ^ "If we can express our thanks in anything better than show\sTo ""' P""''^' ^'^ ''"^' '>" ^-^ °"^y " The marquis coughed, and looked at madame de Maintenon He began to tremble lest the precious cargo of the Fleur deLys should be diminished even by a handful of crowns The marquise smiled imperceptibly in return -'s^-ro'' Inir^^r ^° '1i' u ^/^^ "°'^'"g'" ^he said to herself, a faviu;-!!?" ^'^ ' ^'°"' ™^J''^y P'™'^' "^^ to ask " Speak, monsieur," said the king. vLttT ^^^^^" ^^^'' ^S°' '^'■^' '°"^^ fr'ends of mine in England experienced a great misfortune. The head of their family suddenly disappeared. On a certain day he was unde stood to have left Dover with the intention of visiting France and he has not been heard of since. If anything ^coud be learned of his fate, through any channels of inquiry open to your majesty's officials, it would be a great consolation^ the surviving members of his family." " What was his name ? " " Randolph Dorrington, sire." "Marquis, will you see to this?" said the kine « Rll^ fhof »s not all, M. Gwynett ? " ^' """^ '"^^ This was evidently an invitation to put a price on a service rendered. The receipt of pay from the French court had '9'A B Ikent Squire 8s ices of his her air of o a direct ised that ? " ;ring what ook of the de Torcy, : well, M. s than we ously. had had ' grace to :rvice. hope that ?ement to itter than 1 only to [aintenon. the J^/eur f crowns. to herself, me to ask mine in 1 of their as under- ; France, could be open to n to the But that I service )urt had been quite the fashion amongst public men in England for the last forty years. But Gwynett'ti stomach had always been too squeamish to allow of him accepting anything of the sort from anybody. Consequently he cast about for a form of refusal which would avoid giving olTen:e. "Sire," said he, bowing, "when your majesty accords me your approbation, you have accorded me everything." Madame de Maintenon perfectly divined this scruple, and was visited by an idea. " It appears to me, your majesty," said she, " that M. Gwynett must at present have rather uncomfortable recollections of this vessel, the F/eur de Lys, which he has brought to your majesty from madame des Ursins. Will your majesty ask his acceptance of the ship he has navigated so skilfully and so courageously, so that in the future he may have some more agreeable associations connected with it ? " The king looked rather pleased at this cheap way of recom- pensing our hero, and probably guessed the reason of its being suggested. ^ " Marquise," said he, " if you were to offer it to monsieur yourself " and he looked inquiringly at Gwynett. The latter saw no reason why he should not take something which now apparently belonged to nobody, and which could be turned into cash at the first convenient opportunity. "Sire," said he, "the marquise will overwhelm me with gratitude by enabling me to cherish a memento at once of herself, of your majesty, and of my good friend madame des Ursins." "The priiicesse will please us every time she charges you with a commission to us, monsieur. And we will have every possible inquiry made about your misr'ng compatriot." Gwynett recognised this as a dismissal. "I beg your majesty to accept my most earnest thanks," said he, kneeling to kiss the king's hand. "Farewell, monsieur," said Louis very affably. Madame de Maintenon bowed and smiled pleasantly, and de Torcv led Gwynett out of the cabinet. " Do me the favour to wait a {m minutes for me, monsieur." he said. Gwynett sat down in the ante-chamber, and de Torcv re- entered the cabinet. '\ Marquis," said the king, " you must see the duke without losing a moment." "Evidently, sire," replied de Torcy, groaning in spirit at li i'li 86 a Ikent Squire A^^ l'°^P^^} of a week's posting in November. " M de Marlborough may leave the Hague any day. I shall set out m wo hours and take M. Gwynett with me. I must get him to brmg the br.g on to Dunkerque-it will be so much nearer scneveningeii, if we arrange matters." Ml^nf.n"'^'"^''' gathered up his papers, saluted madame de Mamtenon anc the kmg, and made for the door. ay the wa>, s:re," he said, stopping, "I am somewhat cunous about this missing M. Dorrington'.' Did your majesty Dy chance ever sign a /ef^re de cachet about him ? " Ihe kmg, who had signed more than nine thousand in the course of his reign, looked rather surprised. ^^ Good Lord ! how should I know ? " .said he . Very true," murmured de Torcy. « Well, good day. sire- wish me success." > b ^^ uay, birc And the marquis went out. CHAPTER XII IN WHICH M. DE TORCV ASKS A GOOD MANY QUESTIONS GwvNETT rose as M. de Torcy entered the ante-chamber and took up his hat and cloak. '^'"ucr, ana " My dear M Gwynett," said the marquis, » what are your arrangements at Versailles ? " ^ ** I have none, monsieur." " You are at liberty to return to Calais ? " SJ ^.^^ \^r°"VI° ^^ '°' *° P"""'"^ ^0"^^ inquiries of my own respecting Mr. Dorrington." ^ " Then do me two favours, monsieur." ^'1 Anything in my power, M. le marquis." .r.A r f • '""'^T "'''' """"^ ^''^^ ""^ y°"'' company between here and Calais. I am setting off in a couple of hours." ^^ Witn great pleasure, monsieur." " Come to my apartments, then." The marquis led Gwynett through the outer ante-chamber Here they found Gaultier, returned from the stables and kicking his heels in a very sulky frame of mind. The marqSs met him as he came forward. marquis 1UUK4 ' "rpT- — ' na,e D^en ncpt waning for nothing, M. Lc^ t^/r h^' ''Ti°K-^' ^' ^ standstill-so much so, in fact, that I have asked his majesty's permission to go and U ftent Siiuire «7 spend a few days on my estates in Picardy, which I have been obliged to neglect a little of late. When I return, we may have occasion to ask your good offices — if you think of remain- ing so long in France ? " Gaultier bowed rather discontentedly. •' It is possible, M. le marquis," said he. " Unless " But the marquis had by this time passed on with Gwynett, who had not noticed the abb^. Gaultier looked after the pair with a suspicious glance. " Who is this ? " he muttered to himself. ** A M. Menager number two ? The deuce take me if they are not putting me on the shelf altogether! Picardy estates? In November? £>ame I no— it is some trick. I may as well report this to lord Oxford. It would not be amiss to go after him if one could keep sufficiently out of sight." Vhen the marquis reached the wing of the palace which he occupied when not at his hotel in Paris, he rang for his secretary and his major-domo. The latter appeared first. " M. Gwynett dines with me," said the marquis. " Give us whatever you can in ten minutes. Let Moritz show monsieur to my . dressing-room, give him what changes he requires, and fill a valise for him." The major-domo put Gwynett in charge of the minister's Swiss valet, who helped him to make a refreshing toilet— the first smce he had left Calais thirty hours before. In the meantime the secretary had arrived. This was M. Rend de Lavalaye, nephew to the marquis, a precise young man, who could hold his tongue in four or five languages, and was therefore particularly useful to a secretary of state for foreien anairs. ° " Is the notary in the palace, Rend ?" asked ±e marquis. "I have just left him." "Send for him." The secretary opened the door, gave an order, and returned. I am going to Flanders, Rend. I shall want you to go in advance ventre a terre. How long can you keep in the saddle. With SIX hours' rest occasionally ? " !! ^ay three days— you know I am rather nsty just now " Ihat will be more than enough. You can be at the Hague in forty-eight hours— then you can go to bed for another forty-eight, if you like." " I shall want a safe-conduct at the outposts." "I have two ready in blank— they were intended for Pohgnac and d'Uxelles, if we had not broken off negotiations." 88 a "ftent Squire M I] t.I\ln^ct envfyf ^^.f ^ --^chal d'Uxelles were the been held not lon^beft .'^,^ P^^f .jonjerences which had But these eenUemenhoH K ^^'^'"'^^"''^'■S' "^ar Antwerp. negotS^ha Touis XT^^^^^^ T." ^^ ^^e Dutch n.£;' ;e!!tt^he^r,.;•: ^askt.tfr^\^^ ^'^ Antwerp, if possible. I shall follow a fastTs ? Sn h'"' "' of Calais— /«f,;^;;//^, of course Tf fht J 1 ^^"' ^y ^^y Hague, you nfust ^rrang^e fS me to see Wm''""°' 'T ^'" that neighbourhood. In any C^e tell hL i^ • T^-'^!f^ '" should not leave for EnglanZiJfwe haie m"et." '^ '"'"'^^ '^ ^ Suppose he has already left ? " '^You must go after him." '«* J° London, for instance ? " Certainly. Ah ! here is the notary." Ihis functionary advanced to the table deed^'g'ifrSw.'iroinf hi^' i";./°i'° ^-^ "p." person, in blank ? " majesty s ships on a certain "I could have it ready by tomorrow, M. le marauis " the ship lor two monfh«; fZ o V- majesty charters .o^be/opeH. iratV^';. rcHaS,! ^1?e^;, f * '•Mi. ^'^^^.'^"'^"^o'^ent the major-domo returned anH Ih Gwynett_no, here he comes. Now monsieur » doing the dorishe%asSZt' '" '"'"'""''• '"' -«-^. ra.he?in''a"hL''TS'w':a-i' ''^ '"'"T^' "^ "^^ "-> hurry. But as 1 have .T .. vf °'"u^ '° "^ ""* """•« '■> a neve? hurry^rm'eawLr W^hTv^'lJ^f^i^ £f ™^ '''''■ i my servant here is stone-deaf l7, f^ » ? j T "'• """^ — „„ _ ,o svaiiuw iur the next week or ten days " ' Vou are gomg a journey then, monsieur, beyond Calais?" a Ikent Squtrc 89 «< An !v 7 "^'^ not happen even to look at him." An exceedingly choice scoundrel, in strict confidence IVe can use him, but I'm afraid you could not-and he k only fit to be made use of. Don't be seen in ?he same stree with him. If you can avoid it. Yes, I am runnine down to my estates perhaps a little farther, if we have fini welther And I shall not get a decent meal ill I get back a/ain Vn ,' are not old enough to know what that reaUy means Ostriches and young people have several things in commor^'' " 1 here are worse things than horseflesh, monsieur" said Gwynett, "when the provision-convoys have been three da^ late in reaching camp." ^ "^^^ "Horrible! I served three years with Luxembourg and we did our share of fighting. But, thank heaven and M Louvois we always got something to eat and drTnk I take off my ha to any man who can fight on an emmy stomlch Your health, monsieur, and every good fortune '' and^ the marquis bowed solemnly as he drank ««Vnn mnc? k .avened a good deal i„^ France t%a^ ou." l^^.,^ll and t'iS'wt tr„othi„1 1^ ™"^ ^-''^ '" ^"^'"y '' Still, m Spain that would not help you far " Spanish is not difficult to learn, m^onsieur.'" And m Germany ? " Gwyiil^Ld^^c^q^^^^^^^^^^^ university and wi?h it an emir^^^lbn^X^ L tL "^^^^^^^^^^ ^^t,\^n:ri^^^^^^^^ °'^^^ city7nr69fa?^'r thetically. ^^' ^^^ ""''^"'^ "^^ded sympa- wa: t^^fTmSuf bSS"' tliv'ri^r T.' '''''ll^^'^ afterwards, certainly made France feared ^^^^i^"'''''^°"'^ now for the way they made uThatd '' ^"' ^' ^'' P^>""S "Wen wein Th'^J^ 'r^'"''^^^"^ y°"' ^"onsieur." "Three Tear, t"'^ ^7.^'^ ^''' ^^^ ^' Heidelberg ?« » ; '^^^^ y^a^s. I went there at seventeen " 1 suppose you fought ? " "Of course." " How often ? " 90 a Ikent Squire " I forget, monsieur. After the first year I lost count " 'Teste! you must be a fair blade. I don't see a scratch on you." " It happened, M. le marquis, that I was brought up by an uncle, who was— and is, indeed— one of the first swordsmen in Europe. He made my fencing his principal hobby from the time I was a child— in fact, I scarcely recollect when I could not handle a sword." " And who was this good uncle ? " "My mother's brother, the baron von Starhemberg— a cousin of the general." ° The marquis pricked up his ears at this. " Indeed ! and may I ask what is your rank in England? " None, monsieur. I have a small patrimony— an estate which has been in my family since the Reformation." "Then you are noble," said the marquis, accustomed to continental claims to that distinction. "Not at all, monsieur— only what we call in England a squire. ^ " But your mother was noble, and you inherit the territorial estate of your family," objected the puzzled marquis " That does not count at all in England." "So much the worse for you, my dear M. Gwynett. We have nobles like the sands of the sea for multitude with worse credentials than yours." "My uncle has repeatedly pressed me to become a Bavarian * suDject, so that he could adopt me formally and thus secure me the title. But I have failed to see the inducement, so far. ' The marquis shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps you are right," said he. "So you have been a great fighter?" " Not in the least, monsieur. I studied to become an expert swordsman more to please my uncle than myself— I would have preferred to spend the time in a dozen other things." " Nevertheless, I daresay you have found it a useful enough accomplishment at times. But how came you, as a relative of general von Starhemberg, to be with M. le due de Vendome ?" " Well, monsieur, after my three years at Heidelberg, and a year in England on my property, my uncle sert for me to hunt with him in the Black Forest. While I was living with him he had a great quarrel with his cousin the general, and a great Bavaria." ^conciliation with his old enemy the elector of If a Kent Squire 91 " Ah ! I recollect him now— he married some fortieth cousin of the elector. They used to talk of some demon of a fencer at Munich when I was there for the funeral of the electoral .•rince, but his name had slipped from my memory And hov did you fare with the baron ? " " Exceedingly well, monsieur. We made a compromise." "A compromise?" "Yes, monsieur. You see, my uncle had inherited a magnificent library, of which he thought nothing, and I every- thing. We usually spent the fine days in hunting, but he was always annoyed when I went to the library in rainy weather. So, to smooth matters, I agreed to fence with him every wet morning, in order to be free of the library every wet afternoon." " And how did you come off with the foils on these wet mornings ? " " We were about equal, monsieur— perhaps, latterly, I had a little the advantage." " Pardieti ! And what did you do at night ? " "My uncle had a good workshop, and we used to work in iron and wood, turning, fitting, carpentering, and half a dozen trades. I found that very useful when we lost the two gunsmiths of my regiment at Villa Viciosa. When we were tired of the bench and the anvil, we had a little pistol practice, and fired at a candle at twenty, thirty, or fifty paces. Latterly we busied ourselves with chemistry." The marquis stared, and then sighed. " My dear M. Gwynett, there are very few people I envy, but, upon my soul, I think you are the most enviable young fellow on earth. To have health, youth, energy, and a small competence— to mix with all ranks, and belong to the most convenient— to have leisure, and be able to occupy it pleasantly— to do many things, and do them all well— whv. I tell you " ^ The marquis stopped and filled his glass. " I drink to the postponement of your bad luck, my young friend— for, mark me, you are too fortunate. By all the rules of chance, some hideous disaster awaits you. Salut ! M. Polycrates." And the marquis drained his glass with a philosophic air. Gwynett acknowledged the compliment, which might have been a more exhilarating one, and asked, laughing. rrnas. am x. lu cunsiga lu uie uoiiom 01 the sea, M. ie marquis, as you take the part of king Amasis ? " " Anything but the Fleur de Lys, my friend— at least, until 92 H •Rent Squire we have done with her. By the way, you know what she fames, of course ? " "Cases of silver, I understand." " Do yo4 happen to know how many ? " " Forty." " Where are they ? " "Behind the shearhinK' of the brig, below the captain's cabin As a matter of fact, they are built into th.^ shin's side. '' 'How are we to get them? Is there the usual hatch down into the after- * old?" "It is at present ..lade solid with the floor, monsieur, iiut there is also a door into the lazarette from the hold— a secret door. The cases were taken in that way to save disturbing the cabin floor." •' A secret door ? Good Lord ! what for ? " " It was a fancy of Jie captain's, monsieur. He was the owner of the brig before it was bought for this particular ScrVlCCa "What on earth did the fellow want with a secret door? Did he want to perform melodramas in his hold?" "It happened in this way, monsieur— at least, so he told me In his profession " "Of what?" " Smuggler, monsiem." " To be sure — go on." " He had occasion to carry French goods to Barcelona and used to fly the French flag. One day, when he came into port as usual, he was boarded by the people of the archduke, who had occupied Barcelona while he was en voyage" "Thanks to that inspired lunatic, your lord Peterborough ,, ?.?' ^? "^^ archduke," remarked the marquis parenthetically.' 1 he Austrians were very anxious to hang him as a spy but he managed to escape by the skin of his teeth. As business was very brisk, he determined to keep up his voyages to liarcelona, but took care on his next visit to show Austrian colours. Unfortunately, without his knowing it, the king had just commenced to invest the town on the land side and the padrone m the dark anchored alon:s>Vle one of the ships of the comte de ^^oulouse, who was loubaiding Bar celona from the sea. in the morning t';^ ' -t-^, : jph fir«,. on him. He hid in an empty barrel" in tne nold when the comte sent an officer on board. This officer could not -^r i i U.fkcnt Squtrc 93 understand much Catalan, and the padrone's men had the address to bamboozle him compleM. ^nd send him back saished. The p. irone landed his .', ., and was about to set sail, flymg J' reach colours from stem to stern, when it ' ame on a thick fog. As soon as it lifted a little, he started, but found himself alongside some warships he did not quite recognise, hy ,11 luck, t!- comte had departed, .nd the newcomers were ihe English fleet under vice-admiral F.eak. Ihe vice-admiral sent a boat's crew to board him, and as he had no barrel to hide in this time, he slipped overboard and swam ashore, leaving his men to apologise for his absence on business in the least intelligible way they could. Fortunatelv. the admiral did not think the brig worth appropriating and sailed the next day on the expedition to Minorca." yihof'^"^^ '^ ^*^^^^ ^^""^ padrone managed very well, on the "True, monsieur. Nevertheless, he found these political changes very embarrassing, so he at once set about making a little door in the bulkhead between the hold and the lazarette under his cabin. His idea was that the next time he was to be interviewed in a hostile spirit, he could hide in the hold while his cabin was searched, and grt back to the cabin when they looked into the hold." "And did he ever use it ? " asked the marquis. I believe only once." " Was it to escape the French or the Austrians " " Neither, monsieur. One day at Marseilles, w en he was entertaining some lady friends, his wife came on board unexpectedly " A knock was heard at the door, and M. de Lavalaye en ered, boo.ed and spurred, and holding a sheaf of i ipers These are the deed and the charter-mem. randum, monsieur," said he. • " Good. Are you ready ? " " Quite, monsieur." " Let me have one of those safe conducts " M de Lavalaye took the keys which the marquis ht!d out. went to a desk, and took out a document coverec with seals of all colours M. de Torcy filled in some h tanks, signed his name, and handed the paper back to the sec-tary lie sure to get someone who speaks Walloon, as soon as you arc over tne frontier,^' said he, "and let him co all the talking. I was within an ace of being shot last year on account of my Parisian accent. Some of these Dutch I! i' 94 H Ikeut Squire sentinels have a trick of firing first and inquiring afterwards, so be modest and retiring, and send your man first wlien you come to an outpost. Wliat money are you taking ? " " Half in louis d'or, and half in English guineas," replied Lavalaye, handing the marquis a memorandum. "Very well. Before you go, I make you acquainted with the sieur Gwynett. At any time I am not in Paris do him what services you can. My nephew, Rene de Lavalaye, M. Gwynett." "The fiance, evidently," said Gwynett to himself, as he returned the other's bow. " I was charged, monsieur, to convey to you the compliments of M. Daguerre and of mademoiselle Victoire, when I left them to travel here." " You are very obliging, monsieur," replied Lavalaye solemnly. "Be off now, Rene," said the marquis, "and a lucky journey to you. We meet at Antwerp." " The same place as before ? " " Yes, if they will condescend to entertain a mere minister of France," said the marquis, who was still sore at his snubbing in Holland. "Good day, M. Gwynett ; au revoir, M. le marquis." And the secretary departed. " Now, will you kindly fill up these papers, M. Gwynett ? " said the marquis, opening out the two documents prepared by the notary. Gwynett looked over them. One ras a formal transfer of the brig Flcur de Lys, the property of his most gracious, etc., etc., to the sieur Ambrose Gwynett, of etc., etc. The other was a contract to hire the said brig to his majesty for the term of two months, at a rate of fifty louis per month. " Payable in advance, if you have no objection, monsieur ? " said the marquis. Gwynett felt as if he had been a Httle tricked into accepting what he had formally refused. But he thought it would appear churlish to make any more fuss about the matter, and therefore signified his acquiescence. " Where shall the brig be delivered to you ? at Calais ? " " Calais will do very well, monsieur, unless by chance peace should be made — of which, of course, you are the best judge." "Then she shall be sent to Dover. T.-'.ke the deeds, monsieur, and fill in the blanks. I have now only to set M. d'Argenson at work about your M. Dorrington. When that is done, if you are ready, we will make a start." •ii 1^ \% • w* And a Ikent Squire 95 While Gwynett followed the minister's instructions, the latter wrote a note and rang his bell. The major-domo entered, and the marquis handed him the note. "For M. d'Argenson, the lieutenant-general of police," he The major-domo bowed, and took the note. " The carriages ready ? " " They wait, M. le marquis." "I am at your service, M. Gwynett." The marquis and Gwynett descended to the courtyard, where two travelling-carriages were drawn up. In the first of these were seated the minister's assistant secretary, his valet, and his chef. M. de Torcy motioned Gwynett to a seat in the second carriage, and got in after him. Otif! said he ruefully, as he pulled the rug over his knees, and wrapped an enormous scarf round his neck, "my dear friend, if you are ever given the choice between being a mmister of state or a galley-slave, go to the galleys. You will enjoy yourself quite as much, I give you my word of honour, and you will find it a good deal cheaper." He nodded through the window to the major-domo, the coachman whipped up his horses, and the party started on their journey. ' CHAPTER Xni AMBROSE GWYNETT DOES A LITTLE CARPENTRY As the marquis considered it injurious to the lungs to talk out of doors m November, and as Gwynett was still feeling his \yeeks watch on the brig somewhat severely, both the travellers did very little else but eat and sleep on the way to Calais. It was morning when they entered the town, and the marquis drove direct to the house of the governor M Daguerre. Here they learned that the brig was still under seal and guard and that nothing had transpired since Gwynett left for Versailles. The governor offered the hospitality of his "iT^iru --0— • -V i-.ac!ii5 biciiviusL uciurc his guests. Whom have you placed on board, my dear governor ? " asked the marquis, as they :at down. "A corporal and five of my Swiss, M. le marquis-the 96 H Ikent Squtrc ! ■ ?i safest half-dozen I could pick anywhere, as I understood from M. Gwynett the matter was of urgent consequence." *' Can you find a sh^^'s carpenter for us without any fuss?" " There is one on board now." " That's lucky. By the way, M. Gwynett, can you, by exercising one of your accomplishments, enable us to keep this matter amongst ourselves?" " In what way, monsieur? " "Can you use the carpenter's tools to get at the con- signment?" " Certainly." " Will you do us the great favour to do so ? " " With pleasure." "Excellent! My dear Daguerre, our friend is a man of all the talents. I have yet to find out what he cannot do or doesn't know." M. Daguerre looked rather surprised at the minister's eulogies. Gwynett laughed. " At all events, M. Daguerre," said he, " I cannot forget your kindness, and do not know how to thank you sufficiently for it. I trust mademoiselle is quite well ? " " Perfectly. She is out at present, but I have ordered thai she shall be told of your arrival when she returns." At this moment the door opened, and Victoire entered. Gwynett rose, as the young girl looked at him racher hesitatingly. " My dear," said the governor, " this is M. Gwynett returned from Versailles." " And better able to thank you for your extreme goodness than he was before, mademoiselle," said Gwynett, bowing. Victoire came forward with a little blush. ' "Monsieur looks so much — so different, I mean — that I was not quite sure it was he," said she, turning to bow to de Torcy. " My daughter Victoire, marquis," said the governor. The marquis bowed with infinite grace and a highly appreciative smile. "Mademoiselle is happily named," said he. "In peace or war she will be all-conquering." " Tut ! tut ! " said the governor, not at all displeased at the rather broad compliment to his daughter, "don't turn her head, marquis. It spins all day, as it is." "Wherever it turps it radiates sunshine, I am sure," said a Ikent Squire 97 the marquis, who was fairly well experienced in the art of getting himself liked at a cheap rate. Victoire received these flowers of speech with the air of a person who had heard something of the sort before, but who thought there was no harm in a little repetition. "Do you make any stay in Calais, monsieur?" she asked, turning to Gwynett. "At present I amat thedisposal of the marquis, mademoiselle." "You will make this house your home, gentlemen, while you are here," said the governor, with his usual hospitality. "I leave for Lille to-day, my dear governor," replied de Torcy. " But I may have occasion to ask M. Gwynett's good ofifices here for a day or two. In fact, with your per- mission, we will go to the port at once, to see about the matter." " Shall I accompany you ? " " I was about to ask that favour." Victoire promptly assumed the air of house-mistress. "We dine at two, messieurs," said she. "Will that be early enough for you, M. le marquis ? " " You tempt me, mademoiselle, and I fall without hesitation — the more readily as I am bound, in any case, to be away from Eden for some little time." "I gather from the marquis," said Gwynett, "that outside Pans and Versailles one dines on raw fish, roots, or grubs." " Don't listen to him, mademoiselle. He has a digestion, and doesn't know what food is. Let him wait till he is fifty' and a dyspeptic. I kiss your hands, mademoiselle." ' " Till two, M. le marquis." The three gentlemen drove to the port in the governor's carriage, while the minister's equipages were put up. A long- boat with eight sailors rowed the party to the Fleur de Lys, which lay at anchor where Gwynett had left her. The corporal and his guard met them at the gangway, and saluted as they came on deck. "A word vyith you, M. Gwynett," said the marquis, taking him aside. "You said you could get at those cases single- handed ? " " "Certainly — if you are in no great hurry." " Can you and I move them without assistance ? " "We could get them into the hold. I think. Then we should want a capstan or a pulley-block." The hold will be far enough. My dear governor," said the marquis, crossing over to hni, " where is your carpenter? " 7 I ! 98 H ment Squire I ' ■' Mi- i ■1 1 " Here, Mathurin ! " shouted the governor to one of the guard. *' Bring your tool-basket." "To the hold," said Gwynett, in the marquis's ear. "You are right," assented de Torcy. "M. Daguerre, please remove the seals from the hatches and have them lifted." This was done, and the yawning gulf of the hold appeared in view, with the ladder hooked into rings in the coaming. The carpenter laid his basket down, and awaited orders. " Now, my dear governor," said the marquis, " do me the favour to take your men into the long-boat. I will ask you to row round the brig at a hundred yards' distance till I signal for you. Nothing must be allowed to approach us on any pretext whatevei." The governor gave an order to the corporal, and the guard- party embarked in the boat. " Are your instructions intended to apply to the case of your happening to set the brig on fire?" asked the governor, laughing, as he followed the corporal down the gangway. 'Teste ! you remind me~we shall want a light, M. Gwynett?" " Let us have a couple of lanterns." The governor sent the corporal on deck again. This worthy promptly produced a couple of ship's lamps from the deck- cabin, lit them, and returned to the long-boat. The marquis waved his hand, and the crew pushed off. "Now to business, my dear sir, as you are so obliging," said the marquis, approaching the open hatch. " Will you be good enough to descend, and I will hand you the lights ?" Gwynett climbed a few steps down the ladder, carrying the tool-basket on his arm, then took the lamps from the marquis, and descended to the floor. The marquis followed with many grunts and lamentations over his stiffened joints, which had never recovered from the wet weather during his cross-country journey in Flanders a couple of years previously. " It is forty years since I was on board ship before," said he, looking about the gloomy recesses of the hold. " We were just commencing the war with the United Provinces, in alliance with your king Charles II., and I had to accompany my father to Ostend. We were all frightened to death lest de Ruyter should catch us. Lord, how sea-sick I was ! " Gwynett was makmg his way through a lot of lumber of various kinds towards the bulkhead which separated the hold from the lazarette. **. a Ikcnt Squire 99 in I " Where is this famous secret door of yours ? " asked the marquis, groping his way after him. "Here, M. le marquis," replied Gwynett, holding his lantern opposite the partition. A dozen massive vertical timbers, reaching from the hold floor to the curved beam which supported the deck overhead, divided the partition into a series of recesses. Behind these timbers heavy twelve-inch planks were bolted, resting horizon- tally one on the othe •. Gwynett felt along the side of one of the uprights till he came to what might have been taken for a knot-hole, close to the back planking. Putting his finger m this, and pressing upward, a well-oiled bolt was displaced. On a vigorous push being applied to the planking on the left of the upright, a section of it swung back, revealing the magazine. The section was four planks deep, stretched from post to post, and commenced at five feet from the floor of the hold. This represented the difference in level between the hold and the lazarette. Gwynett put in the two lamps, entered the lazarette, and assisted the marquis to follow him. The lazarette, or after-hold, was practically empty, save for a few coils of rope and a couple of kegs of spirits, the; latter evidently reserved for the late padrone's private consumption The sheathing of the ship's side extended without a break from floor to ceiling. In the latter, two hatches appeared, one about the centre, and the other in the farthest corner where the rapid upward slope of the floor brought it close to the ceihng. Gwynett pointed to the hatch in the middle of the ceiling. "That is the old hatch," said he. "The padrone had it nailed securely to the floor to prevent inquiry in that direction The new one m the corner is under the bunk in his sleeping- cabin, where no one would think of looking for one. It was made at the same time as the door in the bulkhead." Your padrone had a good notion of hide-and-seek," said the marquis. " His arrangements happen to come in very usefully for us, as I particularly wish our little expedition to leave no trace behind it. Now where are the bullion-cases ? " Gwynett struck the sheathing with his hand. "Here, M. le marquis." " Behind that planking ? " "Yes." ^'1 Parbleu I it will take a week to get at them.'* J Do you want all of them out, monsieur ? " " No. How many cases did you say there were ? " 'i i 100 H Hicnt Squire u I' ■- i; " Forty." " All the same size ? " "Practically." "And weight?" " I think so." The marquis made a calculation. " I may want eight," said he. "That will not be difficult," said Gwynett, taking up his tools. " But it will take some few minutes, and you may . as well be seated, monsieur." " Very true," said the marquis, carefully dusting the top of a keg of brandy, and feeling if the sheathing of the side was likely to soil his surtout, " If my poor assistance can be of any use to you, pray command me." "Thank you," said Gwynett, selecting the sharpest steel wedge he could find, and concealing a smile. "On the contrary," said the marquis, producing h is t ada and offering it. " Do you take snuff?" Gwynett politely declined, and proceeded to prise up one of the planks of the sheathing. This occupied some little time, as he was anxious not to make his operations obvious by unduly damaging the timber. Eventually the piece of sheathing was dislodged, and revealed the piles of iron-bound wooden cases, resting one upon another. But as they were deeper in size than the width of the plank, Gwynett prepared to remove another. "My dear M. Gwynett," said the marquis, who had been looking on with profound interest, " no doubt your cases there are all very comfortably stowed away, but why the mischief was so much trouble taken? Could you not have put them on the floor here, and simply secured the magazine from intrusion ? " " Certainly, M. le marquis. But it was necessary to provide against contingencies. We might have been shipwrecked or captured." " Fes^e ! of what use would your precautions be if you had gone to the bottom of the sea ? " " None. I was thinking of being driven on shore, or on rocks which could be reached from the shore. On our English coasts the people have a habit of helping themselves, until they are stopped, to anything that arrives in that .'ash ion." " I fancy it is not very different in Bretagne or Normandy," oLsLi vcd the marquis. a "ftent Squire lOI "We are said to have afifinities of race with both those provinces," said Gwynett. " Hence, probably, the deplorable circumstance I have mentioned." "On the contrary," said the marquis, laughing, "let us assume that our people were demoralised by the English occupation of the west coast territories during the middle ages. But suppose you had been cast on shore— what then ? " "Well, monsieur, a good deal would have to be done in the way of plunder before they took to breaking up the ship, and by that time the hull could be rescued." " But you spoke also of capture." "That was a good deal more likely to happen than anything? else." " No doubt— but if the brig had been captured, the cases would have been captured." "True, monsieur, but the captors would not have known it— at least, not at the time, perhaps not afterwards." "That would be gratifying from one point of view. But they would be lost to us all the same." "Not at all, monsieur." " What is the difference ? " " All the difference in the world." "How?" "Because the ship would still be afloat, and the money would be perfectly safe so long as it was not discovered." "Well?" "Well, monsieur, the brig being necessarily somewhere, and m the hands of somebody, it would always be possible to trace her, to buy her back, to hire her, or to steal her Then we get at the cases again." The marquis looked at Gwynett for a moment in silence. " Decidedly this young man has ideas," said he to himself, or else I must be getting very stupid." Then aloud, "That is a very important consideration, without doubt, monsieur. But how many people are in the secret ? " " Two, monsieur. You and I." " How did you manage that ? " " In order to run as little risk as possible, I advised that the cases should not be landed from the galleons when they arrived at Cadiz frorn Amr.iilr'r* K.-f Uf^r^t — j — ,1- .._j-- . / -- — — -' -— ..j..),.^,,, -jui n.cpi. u;i ac<-k. under guara. Ihen we bought the F/eur de Lys, keeping her crew and captain, and sent them all on shore. I covered up the name of the brig, got a company of sailors from the galleons, who Kl" 102 H Ikent Squire had never seen her before and did not know her name, and navigated her to San Lucar. When there, a galleon followed with the chests, and transferred them to our hold. Their carpenter helped me to strip the sheathing and place the chests where you see them. Then they sailed away, I sent word to the padrone to bring his men to San Lucar, and we commenced our voyage." " Rather a round-about business," said the marquis. " But it was well to take every precaution, and your forethought may still prove useful. In any case, we are under even greater obligations to you than appeared before, monsieur — and I, for one, will not forget it." " It was mainly a question of luck, monsieur," said Gwynett, proceeding with his work. " Any one of a hundred trifling accidents might have brought the business to grief. As it happened, things went smoothly- except for the padrone and his men." The marquis helped himself to snuff again. " The deuce ! " he muttered, sotto voce, " if that is the good youth's notion of things going smoothly, I would rather be out of the way when they go roughly." By this time another plank had been tp^^en off, and the uppermost chests of four piles were accessible. With the loose planks to use as a slide, the cases could be brought to the floor without much trouble, and Gwynett succeeded in re- moving the required number in the course of a few minutes. " Do you wish them opened, M. le marquis ? " he asked, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. The marquis was somewhat anxious that Gwynett should not know too much about the value of the treasure, and especially that he should continue under the misapprehension that it consisted of silver, instead of gold. *' I shall be obliged if you will open two, to begin with," said he. "Then I shall have to throw myself upon your indulgence." " In what way, M. le marquis ? " " It is de rigueur that the actual examination of these cases should be carried out by myself only, in private. I am sure you will excuse the necessity for this form ? " " Certainly, monsieur," replied Gwynett, who had by this time loosed the strips of iron which encircled the wood-work of the chests. *' In fact, now that I insert these wedges, you can remove the lids themselves without trouble," and he handed de Torcy his mallet. I I ,1 a Ikent Squire 103 The marquis looked at this instrument rather dubiously. " It is a mere piece of routine," he observed blandly. " If you will be so good as to separate the lids without actually uncovering the contents, it will meet the letter of the law, and I shall be infinitely obliged to you." Gwynett did as he was requested, and then put on his coat. "Now I will leave you, monsieur, and will await your summons. If you can manage with one lantern, I will look round the hold and see that all is safe." " I am quite ashamed to put you to the trouble," said the marquis. Gwynett let himself down through the door in the bulkhead, closed it after him, and commenced a tour of inspection amongst the miscellaneous lumber that littered the floor of the hold. This was a proceeding for which time and opportunity had hitherto been lacking. After going the round of the numerous kegs and barrels which lay about, Gwynett came to the conclusion that a considerable part of the late padrone's usual stock-in-trade, when on a smuggling expedition, was on board. This had been presumably with the idea of doing a stroke of business after the trip to Calais was brought to a conclusion. Now that the worthy padrone was at the bottom of the sea, Gwynett, who was ignorant even of his name, began to wonder if he was to look upon himself as his heir, successor, and assignee. He took a seat on a barrel to debate this point of law and ethics. While doing so, he amused himself by carving, with the sailor's knife he had the habit of carrying about with him, certain capital letters in the ship's side. By the time the marquis called to him, saying that he was at his disposal, the initials M.D. were duly executed, six inches high and half an inch deep, in the dingy sheathing of the hold. Heaving a respectable lover's sigh at the thought of his prolonged absence from his betrothed, Gwynett kicked the chips in various directions, pocketed his knife, and re-entered the lazarette. "I have kept you an unconscionable time, M. Gwynett" said de Torcy. " If you will kind refasten these two cases, 1 think we can dispense with any present examination of the other SIX. Can you replace the planks without any indica- tion of their having been interfered with ? " " Not altogether, I am afraid. But we will see." In a short time the sheathing was made good again, but it was easy to detect where the tools had been used to force i! 1 I! B ' ii 104 U Ikent Squire the planks away from their fastenings. The marquis noticed this, and pointed it out. " If I may make a suggestion, M. le marquis," said Gwynett, " it will be to leave things as they are till I can obtain some putty and paints, which will effectually conceal everything. No one need get in here in the meantime. The seals are on the cabin door, and can remain there till I return with your orders to have them removed." " Excellent ! And now as to these eight cases— they may have to go ashore." "That is easy enough. We will get them into the main hold, and they can be picked up thence by the windlass." Gwynett fastened up the two cases which had been opened, and looked about for some means of lowering the whole eight into the hold without accident. Finally, he unhooked the ladder, laid it against the edge of the after-hold floor, and slid the cases down it into the main hold. The marquis descended, Gwynett fastened the secret door, and after the ladder had been replaced, the pair climbed up on deck. When the governor came alongside, in respon;- , to a signal from the marquis, he pointed to the offing, where a couple of large ships were emerging from a bank of sea-fog. " New arrivals, M. le marquis," said he. " What are they ? " "Two of our frigates from Dunkerque— the Tonnerre and the Henri Quatre" " Coming into port ? " " No doubt." " That's very fortunate," said the ir..?.rquis. " To make sure, however, I will ask you to send your gallev with a message to the senior captain to put in and wait instructions." The marquis wrote a few lines in his note-book, tore out the page, and handed it to M. Daguerre. " I will keep a couple of men to take us ashore in the brig'.s boat, and send the rest in the galley at once," said the governor. " You are ready, I suppose ? " " Quite," said de Torcy. While the governor was giving his turned to Gwynett. "This slightly alters my plans, M. „..^ ^ ..„^ „.. tended to trespass still further on your kindness, and ask you to complete VOUr commission hv faVinrr t\\a KrirY f^p f^ Tl.,^1 Now I need not trouble you so far, as one of the frigates, if not both, will be at my disposal for the purpose. But I will orders, the marquis Gwynett. I had in- I It a ir^ent Squire 05 nsk you to remriin in actual charge of her, i, seal, till an relieve you formally. You will hear from me within a week if I may venture to trouble you for so long." "I am quite at your disposal, M. le marquis." "Thank you. I should tell you it is possible a certain additional number of those cases may have to be removed into the hold. May I depend on you for that ? " "Certainly." " Therefore you need not obliterate the marks of damage till you hear from me, lest it should require to be done all over again." " As you please, monsie -r." "We are at your service, gentlemen," said the governor coming up. "But do you wish the hatch sealed again! M. le marquis?" '^ ' De Torcy signified assent, the ceremony was duly completed and the party were rowed ashore. A couple of hours later the marquis, leaving Gwynett to the warmly pressed hospitality of the governor, started on what was understood to be a visit to his estates in Picardy. .1 CHAPTER XIV THE DUKE OF MARLDOROUGH TURNS AN HONEST PENNY S^ the morriing of the second day after leaving Calais. M. de Torcy s travelling-carriage was approaching a little roadside inn about a mile from the village of Eekeren. half an hours drive to the north of Antwerp. The marquis was alone, his secretary, who had met him a few hours before having gone on in advance, while the rest of his party were at Antwerp awaiting his return. He was just awaking from a doze, and put his head out of the carriage window. At a little distance ahead a horseman appeared, coming up at a trot, who drew rein when he saw the carriage, and waited for It to come up to him. "Well, Rend?" said the marquis, as they came within speaking distance. " Everything is ready, M. le marquis,'" replied the horseman, who was the minr-ter's secretary, somewhat disguised in a rlemish nding-coat. i io6 B Ikent Squire '• Good I let the postilion lead your horse, and you come inside." De Lavalaye dismounted, handed his reins to the postilion, and entered the carriage. " The duke is there, then ? " "Yes— he arrived an hour ago. He came from Eekeren, in order not to be seen at Antwerp." " Anyone with him ? " " M. Cardonnel and a couple of troopers." Master Adam Cardonnel was the duke's secretary and factotum, a member of parliament, and formerly secretary for war. " Is there a suitable room at the inn ? " " One. I have secured it for the day." •' Quite safe ? It would be the very mischief if we had any eavesdropping by the people there." " I think so— at all events, M. Cardonnel and I can see to that." By this time the carriage had come up to the inn. De Lavalaye helped the marquis out, and the two entered the porch. An elderly gentleman opened the door, and bowed profoundly. •'This is M. Cardonnel, M. le marquis," said de Lavalaye. The marquis bowed, and the duke's secretary bowed again. " You do us great honour, M. le marquis," said Cardonnel. "The duke is waiting and at your disposal, whenever you please." " Do me the favour to tell his grace I am quite ready." " This way, then, M. le marquis." Cardonnel turned down a passage, opened the door of a room, and ushered in the marquis and de Lavalaye. The room had only one occupant— a tall man of about sixty years of age, somewhat portly in build, and with the remains of a magnificent appearance. This was John Churchill, duke of Marlborough, prince of the Holy Roman Empire' and generalissimo of the armies of the Allies. He bowed with infinite grace and dignity, and came forward to shake hands with M. de Torcy. " Permit me to thank you for the visit of your able secretary, M. le marquis," said the duke. "I am happy to reintroduce him, my dear duke, in his private capacity as m.y nephew, and .a cadet of the house of d'Estr^es," replied the marquis. " I have met all the three marshals of your family, M. de I B fkcnt Squtrc 107 ^1 Lavalaye," said Marlborough, who never forgot a face or a name " 1 saw the old duke just before I was in Flanders with M. de Turen' —a wonderful old man. He must have been more than a imndred years of age. Did he not have a child by his second marriage, when he was over ninety-three ? " "I have understood so, M. le due," replied the secretary, feeling rather bewildered. " Tt is not given to everyone to belong to two such houses as iJolbert and d'Estrdes," proceeded the duke, offering his snuff-box to de Torcy. " We shall expect great things from your nephew, marquis." The marquis bowed, helped himself to a pinch, and muttered soUo voce, " If Rend does not keep his tail in, he will find salt on it before he knows where he is." Then aloud, " If you are at liberty, M. le due, I will ask M. de Lavalaye to see that we are not interrupted without occasion." " I am entirely at your disposal," said the duke. " Mr. Cardonnel will feel honoured by M. de Lavalaye's acceptance of such hospitality as this hovel can afford." The two secretaries took this hint of dismissal and retired. The duke motioned de Torcy to the solitary arm-chair in the room, seated himself at the opposite side of the carved oak table, and awaited events. " Before we commence our conversation, M. le due, let me thank you for your courtesy in according this interview— which, by the way, I hope has not inconvenienced you." Not in the least, my dear marquis. I am only sorry you did not suggest some meeting-place nearer the frontier, and thus lessen the trouble to yourself." " You are very good, M. le due. But we had the impression that your departure from the Hague was imminent, ari we did not wish to lose an opportunity which might not occur again for some time." " It is quite an accident I am not in London— but M. de Bothmar has asked me to wait for him. Hence the delay." The baron von Bothmar was the envoy from the elector of Hanover to the English court. " Convey my compliments to the baron," said the marquis. " With great pleasure." " Probably, M. le due, you have in a measure anticipated the considerations which I wished to lay before you." "In a measure only," replied Marlborough, who had exhausted himself in speculating as to what was in the wind. 't ,;. !•« 1 08 a Ikcnt Squire • Things have, of course, somewhat changed since we met at the Hague a couple of years ago," observed the marquis referrmg to his abortive negotiations in 1709 (which were followed by the crowning disaster of Malplaquet) and in 17 10 'Very unfortunately so for myself, marquis, as you are aware," replied the duke, in a plaintive tone. "I need scarcely say, my dear duke, that France is no better off for the failure of our efforts on those occasions " "No one regretted the failure more than myself, marquis But our Dutch colleagues were quite impracticable ; and as you know, it was necessary to be unanimous." ' "Probably— at that time," observed the marquis negligently The duke pricked up his ears. Everybody knew that the English ministry had opened up negotiations for peace behind the backs of the Allies, and that de Buys had hastened to London to remonstrate on the part of the States-General A tremendous uproar had been caused by the precipitation of comte de Galas, the ambassador of the irate emperor of Germany, in giving to the London press a copy of the pre- liminary articles handed in to him confidentially. These articles were so unaccountably favourable to France that public opinion m England veered round furiously against the new Tory government. But the latter had kept their own counsel and at this particular juncture no one outside the cabinets of St. James and Versailles knew whether matters were gointr forward or backward. The duke began to suspect that thev had gone more than forward. "Exactly," said he. "At that time— as you say For- tunately, her majesty's new advisers can act with much greater freedom in that direction than we could ourselves. Nothing now stands in the wav of a prompt settlement, at which I shall profoundly rejoice." " I am sure of it," said the marquis. "The deuce!" said the duke to himself, "they have come to terms. "At the same time," proceeded de Torcy, "we can hardly expect your allies to be so well-disposed towards peace as Great Britain, which appreciates the changes brought about by the accession of the emperor." " Naturally," said the duke. " A separate peace would be of incalculable benefit to both nur rpopecf.ye countries, even if wc weie not so fortunate as to secure the concurrence of the States-General and the Empire," ; we met marquis, ich were in 1710. you are :e IS no .ns." marquis. ; and, as gligently. that the e behind tened to leral, A tation of peror of the pre- These Jt pubhc :he new counsel, cabinets re going hat they i'. For- 1 greater Nothing rvhich I ^e come I hardly iace as : about to both nate as nd the a Ikent Squire 109 "I need not say, my dear marquis, that my best efforts shall be forthcommg to that end." "I am convinced of it, M. le due— although I am disposed to hope that no great need for them will arise, so far as her majesty s government are concerned. It is, of course, other- wise with your allies." The duke began to see the coming move on the board. What is he going to offer me?" he thought. "They cannot have any money. A viceroyalty would scarcely work except, perhaps, in Flanders, and the prince expects that himself Let us see." He answered aloud, " It is, no doubt, difficult to see how the emperor can be satisfied without Spain and the Indies." " We could, perhaps, make some arrangement for prince H-ugene, said the marquis obliquely. "That is possible. But his highness is somewhat of a partisan, as you know." As prince Eugene's ruling passion was an inextinguishable personal hatred of Louis XIV., the marquis gathered from this remark of the duke's that he wished to be understood as drawing distinctions. "Everyone admits the prince's military genius, M. le due He, like yourself, must necessarily see with regret the probable close of a career of activity." "We are getting nearer," thought the duke. "On the contrary, my dear marquis," he said, with a profound sigh, I have long looked forward to a period of repose from the toils and anxieties of the life of a soldier in the field. It is a httle unfortunate that these aspirations have coincided with the loss of the opportunities I might formerly have expected of serving my country in a civil capacity." 1 f! ^^ !^- ,1" ^^^ "market," said the marquis to himself " We left off bidding at three hundred thousand pounds lust time MncK ' ^'^ ""g"" ""^ "" T^'^""' °^ ^ """'O"' ^"d thank Mrs.' Masham." He proceeded aloud, "Most men, my dear duke, would envy your lot in bein^ able to retire from public life to the enjoyment of a princel? fortune on your charming estate." pnnLciy .J'.t'"'''' "^^'"^T' !^^^ ^"''^^^ "'^''^"^ of a man in my position ^th y^'otf-!^'''^ ^"^^ °''""''^- ^^ ^ "^^y ^' perfectly candid counf^n'S;.'" ''°"'^'' '^' "^^^"'^' "''' ""' '^y ^"^ ^^'P ^y " I confess that I am full of uneasiness in many ways. I no M !^ a Ikent Squire h am an old man. My family is miserably provided for, and even my small savings " "Say three millions sterling," interpolated the marquis mentally. " May be in jeopardy at any moment through the un- scrupulous hatred of my political opponents in England." " That is truly deplorable, M. le due." "Is it not? Then an Englishman labours under great disadvantages, my dear marquis." " In what way ? " " Well, for example, on the continent nationality counts for very little when it is a question of assuming administrative responsibilities. Germany, Austria, Holland, Italy— all these can exchange governors, viceroys, vicars-general, in fact all high civil officers, without any inconvenience." " No doubt that is true to a considerable extent." "Whereas an Englishman, discarded in his own country, has no career open to him abroad except that of arms." " I am afraid, M. le due, it is too late to attempt to repair the error made nearly forty years ago by my august master in not accepting your offer of service under the French flag. Nevertheless, if you cannot be with us, let us hope that the occasion has passed for you to be against us." " I think there is every probability of that, God be thanked ! " The duke, as we shall have further occasion to notice, was nothing if not pious. " May we not have the assurance of its certainty, my dear duke ? " "Alas! marquis, what can I say? We cannot foresee the future. Nothing that I can do will be left undone to secure the adhesion of the Allies to a general peace. Bu! it is, unfortunately, the case that the present proposals meet with vehement opposition from the emperor, and I fear my influence is unequal to the task of removing it." "You think that he may still maintain his claims full ? " " That is my impression— to Spain, at all events." " And by force of arms ? " " I fear so." '* In that case your assistance might still be desired him?" " His majesty has always shown the greatest appreciation of my poor! services." " The Empire is not as wealthy as Great Britain, M. le due. m by :lt I 1 a Tkent Squire III ; for, and marquis the un- ;land." der great ounis for ;nistrative -all these I fact all country, irms." to repair ;t master mch flag. that the lanked ! " tice, was my dear •esee the :o secure iu': it is, leet with influence aims in sired by reciation . le due. 1; That will be a lisadvantage when it becomes a question of estimatmg the immense value of your co-operation." " That is very true, my dear marquis. But beggars cannot be choosers. I must keep my duty to my family before me, regardless of my own inclinations." " Still, M. le due, if your own political attitude towards France is no longer hostile " 1^' Quite the reverse, my dear marquis— -quite the reverse." It might be, perhaps, possible to meet your views in another way. Your course of action would be dictated, as I gather by purely prudential motives ? " o . " Purely prudential motives." " My august master would not permit me to suggest any arrangement which would place you at a disadvantage, my clear duke. We cannot invite your good offices to secure a general peace without recognising the obligations we are under to guarantee you against loss in the matter— that is to say If our disastrously limited resources place us in a position to do so. It would not be fair to ask you to sacrifice, perhaps, a quarter of a million for our exclusive benefit, without beinc prepared to off'er a quid pro quo:' " You are very good, M. le marquis. It is true that I have been led to expect certain proposals-equivalent, perhaps, to a good deal more than the sum you name " f f ' "Evidently we must go a little higher," thought the marquis regretfully. He paused a second, and went on, ' • th^, emperor thinks it worth half a million to retain your services, M. le due, it seems to me he is not far wrong " p. f 2" f ghness is not a very lavish paymaster, marquis. But the stake is a high one. He is playing for an empire in two worlds— and a good deal may be risked for that." deplorably.''^"'' ^^""^ *° '^^ ^*' hoped-for savings diminish "What a cormorant this is!" he said to himself, as he occupied a few seconds in making a supposititious calculation on a scrap of paper. The duke waited with a vacuous expression of countenance. vcn,iious ori' mv^H ^^'T^ "'H^^ u^PP^" '^^^^'■^ ^^^ g^«^e was played out, my dear duke. In the meantime, even three quarters of :tar irk^Autia ''^ ^°°' ''^' °^ "^°"^^ '^ -- ^-- ^ ^^^^ or''two^t*'M^°" ^'^ 3^^ "'''■^"''- ^' ^« t^"^ a" expedition readv mon^v Sn,"^ ^'"' i"'^^^ ^""g ^" ^ go°d deal of ready money. Still, a round million would go a long way 112 a Ikent Squire towards representing anything that could be considered at all certain— from that or any other quarter." The marquis gulped down his vexation. " A million, M. le due ? " " I think so— as you are so good as to interest yourself in my unfortunate affairs, my dear marquis." " Let us, then, say a million, M. le due. Such a sum would be a serious loss for you. We should feel bound to recoup that loss, m the event of your seeing your way to retire from any active part in the affairs of the Empire." '' You take a load off my heart, marquis," sighed the duke My poor family ! I have no ambitions left, except for those near and dear to me." The niarquis endeavoured to look sympathetic, while he wondered ruefully if any additional demands would be sprung upon hirn. ^ ° M"iJduc?^^ ""^^ ^^^^ '^ ^°" "^^""^^ ^°"' '^"'"^ ^"^"y* "That is my intention, marquis— after your very considerate suggestion." ^ " I may assure his majesty explicitly that under no circum- stances, even should the war be prolonged, will this intention be modified? " Explicitly, my dear marquis." " Parole d'honneur ? " " Parole (Thonneur." The rnarquis leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief. The million was gone, but the monarchy was saved ; and' after all, matters might have been worse. The duke might have stood out for the whole cargo of the Fkur de Lys. As It was, the cherished eight cases were safe, f "-^^^^g^^ds the placing at your disposal of the sum we spoke ot, M. le due, It can be done in any way you please " The duke waved his hand with a bland air of indifference. 1 hat IS neither here nor there, M. le marquis " K- 'T.I ^^T^ contrary," said the marquis, who was anxious to bind the duke, if he could be bound at all, by letting the hard cash speak for itself, "we may as well leave nothing unsettled A portion of the amount is on board ship, at Calais, where the remainder can be lodged forthwith." This was to suggest that the magnitude of the duke's demand had not been foreseen. In louis d or ? " asked Marlborough neelippntlv "Pistoles," replied the marquis, in a non-commktal tone. That explains it," said the duke to himself. "Our dear red at all aurself in im would o recoup tire from he duke, for those while he e sprung i finally, nsiderate ) circum- intention of relief, d; and, e might !^^'J. As ve spoke rence. icious to he hard isettled. , where suggest Dreseen. one. ur dear pandson comes to the rescue, because our dear grandnam'. vvimn." ^' °^ Bracciani's is a deucedly clever "I suggest, my dear duke." continued the marquis "that you furnish me with a ship's permit to enter Ostend Ind a saf' conduct against British or ]3utch cruisers. With these we can dltosS''^^"'^""^"^ 'y ''' '' O^^-^^' ^1-re to be a?y"" The duke considered a moment. ''That can be managed. But the delivery had better b^ carrtd?'' ''"' P"""" ^'^ ' ^^^ ^^^^ the'money if to be thJreaden'"^"'' ^''"'"''^ '^' arrangements already known to "That is a very good idea," said the duke. " Can'vou lenrl "I came prepared to make you that offer. But we are onlv toTlfe n^' '° ^ ""'^^^^ y°" ^"^ ^ n^emorandun to be give.^ Thil fc f"'""!? 1" '^"'■S^^ ^^^'^ «'^^ is handed over to rou' ran irf^lo^s' ^'^ "^^^"'^^ '''''' ' P'^^^ ^^ ^^e duke^iS; pr^^c^Z^^'li:^^^^,^^ ^^-^ ^^ ^^. at man, of Kent, at my risk and cost trh.H, ^"^>'"^"' ^^"tle- Ambrose Gu'ynett wi bin fm,r ?, I' 5 delivered to the said the port of Dove or k, t£ even, n? ^'^^^ 't^^^'^ hereof, at the iilterval. at thep^Jn' of'caSr' (lijne'd)-^ '^"'"^^ '" noi'ta"v ?"Si?r"^ '^'i'' ^"^^y'" ^''^•'i the duke. "I need w^ntTh'e paper's?" '°" """^•°"' '-^^-^ ^^^^n do^y'ol ;;As soon aspossible-I return instantly." ^he brirXubelLv^The^^nani w^^? '°""'.^ ^^^^''S"- ^- moment." '"''" ^ """""^ '« '" Antwerp at the ''CerS''"Bv'R'" '^^'' "^^^y "^°""t^d messenger?" u h:^"ainiy. Jiy Brussels or Ghent ?" Ghent and Courtrai to Paris." .. n' ni TVj,ty/"^f.h^^ service to you ? » •I'^-f!^, i iiianK you. "Then, to our next haoDV mepfincr m i« .„ " The soonpr HiM K^ff^ Py meeting, M. le marquis." ine sooner the better, my dear duke." n 114 a fkcnt Squire Marlborough rang a little bell, and the two secretaries entered. The marquis muffled himself up in his cloak and scarf, and went to his carriage, attended by the duke, " Get in, Ren^," said de Torcy. " Adieu, M. Cardonnel— au revoir, M, le due," The duke raised his hat, the troopers saluted, and the carriage started at full gallop back to Antwerp, CHAPTER XV i I r'l CAPTAIN KERMODE GETS A JOB As soon as they were alone the duke turned to his secretary. " You spoke of seeing the man Kermode in Antwerp," said he, " Did you speak to him ? " " Merely in reply to his * good day.' " " Where was that ? " " At the door of a little cabaret at the corner of the market- place." " Do you suppose he was lodging there ? " " It is possible." " Go at c ice, and find out. If he is not there, hunt him up. The police will help you if you are at fault. Take this note." The duke scribbled a line, which Cardonnel pocketed. " When you find him, bring him here on the instant. I take it he can't possibly ride, so hire a carriage." " If I don't find him ? " "Then we post to Ostend, so make the necessary arrange- ments before you come back. I will dine while you are away • send the host here as you go out." ' Cardonnel retired, and a couple of minutes afterwards his horse's hoofs could be heard clattering down the road. Meanwhile, the landlord of the inn, having appeared at Marlborough's summons, produced some rough fare and an unexpectedly passable bottle of wine. With the aid of these the duke made a leisurely meal, sipped his wine, and wondered how much more he could have squeezed out of de Torcy if he had suspected the assistance evidently given by the Escurial Thence his thoughts went back to the almost identical mission upon which he himself had been sent to Charles XII. of Sweden in 1707, armed with very similar financial inducements. jecietaries ::loak and •donnel — and the cretary. erp," said e market- t him up. s note." ed. :. I take ' arrange- ire away ; fterwards :he road, eared at and an of these vondered ircy if he Escurial. 1 mission XII. of cements. '^Yii^/-::^ TiiK Dlkio AN-n r.u'T.UN Kehmodk. Page ur,. ■■>& 'n 1 1 ^ ^ ■^ !t; a fkcnt Squire ,15 ''That worthy de Torcy has a good deal to learn," he reflected complacently. "I wonder if he will be fool enough to confess to the million only ? " ^ This was a reminiscence of the gratifying fact that in his interview with Charles XII. at the Schloss Alt-Ranstadt. near Leipzig, he had the good fortune to find that his skill as the first diplomatist, ..c* well as the first soldier, in Europe was sufficient to render needless the expenditure of the money which he brought with him for the bribing of Charles's ministers. Consequently, he put it in his own pocket In about an hour a vehicle, behind which was tied the secretary s horse, drove up to the inn. The door of the duke's room opened, and Cardonnel entered. " Well ? " " He is here." • That's lucky. Where did you find him ?" " He was dining at the cabaret." " What is he doing at Antwerp ? " "Nothing." ^ " Alone ? " " I think so." "Send him in, and order some spirits." Cardonnel opened the door, and signed to someone in the If^^f^^A u The narrow doorway was immediately afterwards blocked by a short but enormously corpulent man, whose in- convenient bulk was further increased by the distension of his breeches pockets. It seemed rather doubtful whether the newcomer could effect an entrance. ''^ Try sideways, captain," suggested the duke. Haven t had any sideways these twenty years, your honour." replied the captain, as he succeeded, after some effort, m getting into the room. "Take a seat, captain," said the duke. The captain hoisted himself on to a chair, placed his sou'-jvester on the table, and wiped his foreherd wkh a bandanna of many colours. He was a man of about forty-five ZTJ ? f "^y ^^t' ^ '^'°^"^^ "^°"th, the air of one who has always to be on the watch, and a certain agility of move° TtmlZ^ ST''^'''^'' °"' °^ '^^^P^"^ with his' enormous Fn^LnH -S '''''''' u* '"''' ^ "''^^"'■^ o^ south and west of ?"!'^;^.T'^^. something which had originally been Manx. A. a maucr or ract, captain Christopher Kermode (to whose affairs a cursory reference was made in our first chapter! had been born and bred in the Isle of Man, of a fisher family! and 116 H Ikcnt Squire had thence wandered first to Bristol and afterwards to the south-east coast. Here for several years he had made a livinc partly by fishing, partly by smuggling, and partly by conveying Jacobite passengers and letters across the Channel when occasion arose for such good offices. In this last way he had become well known to the leading supporters of the cause and to others who, like Marlborough, were in more or les.s frequent communication with St. Germain. " Will you take claret or spirits ? " said Marlborough, wavinc his hand towards his second bottle. " I thank your honour," said the capta-'t., looking doubtfully at the claret-bottle, " Schnapps or Gene a for me, saving your presence. Never could see what the gentry can fancy in that rot-gut stuff." A knock at the door heralded the appearance of the captain's choice of refreshment, to which, at a signal from the duke, he gratefully addressed himse'f. " How is business ? " said Marlborough affably. " Good enough, your honour, if I could do it. But I can't " " What's the matter ? " •' Tried to get some claret over a month ago, your honour " "Lost the lugger." " How was that ? " " Fortune of war, your honour." ^" A French coastguard, I suppose ? " The captain nodded. "That's a pity. What are you doing here, then, if I may ask?" 01, " Heard of a job to v a big cargo from Maerdyk— but it fell through, your honour." " I daresay I could put you in the way of something, if 7ou cared to take it," said the duke. " That was why I asked vou to come here." " Glad to do anything just now, your honour, work ? " " No. I am rather out of the way of that sort of thing now as you are probably aware." ' The captain intimated by a nod his acquaintance with the duke's changed fortunes at court. " In fact, I know very little of what is going on, outside my regiments= But there seems a good deal of talk of peace coming soon. ^ " Ay, ay, your honour." why 1 asked you Government a "Rent Sqiurc irds to the ade a living f conveying nnel when vay he had the cause, ore or less igh, waving doubtfully aving your icy in that ice of the il from the lit I can't." • honour." 117 then, if I yk — but it ing, if 70U asked you 3vernment :hing now, ! with the utside my of peace .if 4 The assiento " I daresay you hear more gossip than I do seems to be considered cjuite a certain tL^ '' that 'same! t'^ old'LS a^Bn^r ^7-,^'^"-^ ^^ '"- it, and it broke Is Lan hen thK "^^^^ '" '^'^ '"^"^'y ^' trade Things wouKoktp^T't^ha! t^^^^rH^h^;^^^^^^ ^'^^• Africa. This lucrative monopoly td bee held t ? 7f 'T]" government from 1667 to 16 ^( but in ,,n, . 1 V ^ ^"^''''^ by the new kins of Srviin 1 ; ^°^ ^^^^ '^^^'" assigned to France I?s res or.^ion to '-'"'fT "^ ^'^ g^^nclfadier, imperative condition oTpeace by VhTTo/v'^^ "" "^^^^ ^" was duly carried out by the trc. ^0^ ir^ ^^;"'"''''^' ^""^ '^'' later. It need scarcely be l['dV^l .^'f ^' ^ ^'f '"^ ^ ^^^'^ we are dealing the slave tLt 1 f f^ ^^ P^'''^'^ ^^'^h which highest respectXli y-so mu rso" inf ?°r '" ^"^ °^ ^^^-^ reserved to"^ herself ^a four h h'r; of Th^ that queen Anne contract when it was subseauentl r.i ^ P'-'^'leges of the "Some friends of m"nTirFrlce ' °n '^ '" j^ "^ ".°""^^>'- "attachec^othechevalier^mVoi't:V— "^ ''' '"'"' " Vou LTqui^: rUnina-n^^^LTr ^ ^^^^^ r""^-" to think that the business w ilM;. .^^ese genilemen seem they have put thSr pursed Lethr^^^^^^ ""''' ^°"^' ^"^ I^renchlL^rVha^reL^lfeenTlf tl^ ^"" -' ^'-' ships and privateers and ll ? ''^ '^^'^ ^^ ^^'^ queen's ciu.je short-hLdepverTbU Lotir--^ and mml. are picking i';^a fSr; gS seto'rthv sh' '" ^'' '"^ ^-"^« - can, so as to be ready.'' ^ ^^' ''^'^P '^'^^''^^e'- ^hey "That's smart," observed th^ ^or,f • " Plenty of French sh,> to be .otfofr' f.'"'"^ '"^^'■^•^^^^• no trade, and daren't go out of St of) "^ 'T^' ^^^y'''^ pTts:."-" ^^ '^ ^^e^1tt;^m^:^r^:;fruTJ-;-y thi'd^k^'^Cd m;i-2L"drw^^^^ s.v^o"? ?"T^^'^^^-^'" p--^e^ But it's very awkward'' ^° ^""''P ^'''-'"^ »" the matter. eniSitenrnt" 'to ^ZV^JJ'^''' '^T^^' ^"^ ---^ed memorandum. ''^^''''^^^ ^^ refer to de Torcy's ii8 B Ikcnt Squire 1 1 'i i ^ I, : " It seems they have just bought a brig," he went on, looking at the paper, " the F/eut de Lys, of Calais, and they want to have her fitted out in London, to be ready for the trade. Of course, if she sails from Calais they will run the risk of capture by our fleet. So they ask me to give them a safe-conduct and allow her to be consigned to me at Ostend. You may fancy what a handle my enemies in England would make out of that if the brig happened to be stoppvid." " Ay, ay, your honour." " It wouldn't do at all, as you see. I can't afford to be mixed up with that kind of thing. But when I heard of your being in Antwerp, it occurred to me there might be a way out of the difficulty. If it were made worth your while, would you be prepared to be the nominal consignee of the brig at Ostend, and take her over to England ? " " Lord love your honour ! with pleasure. But I must have papers." " Ship's papers, you mean ? " " Certain. If I haven't them, the first war-ship, English or French, that comes alongside will hang me as a pirate." " You shall have papers." " Ostend papers ? " " I suppose so," "That wouldn't prevent me being captured by one of the French frigates. There are three at Dunkerque at this very moment, I happen to know." " No doubt my friends can provide you with a French safe- conduct. Only you must be ready to swallow it if an English ship overhauls you." The captain scratched his head, and looked very earnestly at the flagon of schnapps, as if seeking for guidance. " A safe-conduct would be all right with a French ship-of- war, your honour," he said doubtfully. " But those cursed privateers are not so particular. ' Here's an Englishman,' says they, 'and English papers — d the safe-conduct.' And the first thing they does is to burn the paper " " And the next ? " "Run me up to the yard-aim, your honour — that is, if their tackle wuuld stand my weight." The duke smiled, and then considered for a minute. There was little or no foundation for the captain's apprehensions, but lucy =uj^Q-_3v_-wS a:i i_--.v<.si*_nt rcaaOii lOi Ji under his own eye, along. ft.CCpi f U ~ TT7~,... J. T which was what he had had in view all on, looking ey want to trade. Of of capture induct and may fancy out of that Tord to be ird of your ; a way out would you at Ostend, must have English or te." one of the t this very ranch safe- an English earnestly at ch ship-of- ose cursed iman,' says act.' And is, if their te. There nsions, but in view all a ijcnt SqiUrc 119 ''There is one of our gun-boats at Ostend," he said finally She IS awaiting orders to join the M.nmwi :ii Scheveningen I daresay I can keep her hack till this F/eur de Lys arrives '''"1 '!t^ "".%" """"''^y y""- ^''■°'^' Scheveningea you can sail with the Mermaid to London." relieved'Le.' "'^^'' ^°"' ''^"''"'■" '"'^ "^'^ ^^P'^'"' '" ^ Marlborough rang his little bell, and Cardonnel entered. Ihe duke opened his despatch-box, took out writing materials. and wrote as follows : ^ aici.aib, "Mv DEAR Marquis, In reply to your request to permit the brig FUiir de Lvs owned by Ambrose Gwynett. BritisI, subject, fo enter Oste-^d as consigned to captain Christopher Kermode, Brit sh sub ect 1 herewith enclose a safe-conduct to that effect! '' ' Your obedient servant, Marlborough." He enclosed a safe-conduct with this, folded and sealed it slip ottl", " '' ''' ""'"" "' '"" ""'^ °" ^^^^^'^'^ "If you have a war-ship at Calais or Dunkerque, please let U convoy the brig within sight of Ostend. Witli all'speed " lo horse instantly," he said to Cardonnel. "You' will , overtake the marquis between Antwerp and Courtrai Give It, aestroy it. Then come back t ^he Hague " " Mv ?rlb if fl^° f^°"^^ t° <^«'end' captain," said he My friends shall be asked to send their brig In your charee It would be as well for you to hang about ^out.dehfpo^rt' 'f the her admits of it. Then you can board the bri^ ^^^f - ^*^ht- How man/ men will^^^^ ^Lt t? " Say half a dozen, you; honour " the' WoSerfo'.^r" ''°"'- , V^'"' 8''^ yo" =>" order to "Nothing to speak of, your h,;nour," replied tlle canfin who wa^ well aware of Marlborough's , ductatt to %T.^wiTh The rilllfP tnrnort f^ U:„ J._,_.. i i oiih a rnniro",, ^"' ' ""^ -wip;i.iv,n-Dox wilii a sigh, broueht out a rouleau, and wrote a coui>'" nf nr/i<>re tj« ^ ^^^^ugiu folded, and sealed the memSdu^' gten" i^^^yt xr/''- 120 a •Rent Sdufre I* : i S 1 f , i ' ' ' IL4. f ■ i " Here are twenty guineas," he said to the captain. " This sealed packet you will give to the person in charge of the brig. I recommend you, for your own sake, to show it to no one else, and to hold your tongue about it." The captain promised, with sundry expletives, to be as secret as the grave. " That is your affair," said the duke indiffereiatly. " Deliver these two orders to the burgomaster and the captain of the gun- boat as soon as you arrive. That is all I can do for you I think." ' " I'm enormously obliged to your honour," said the captain gratefully. "You can report to me when you get to Scheveningen." ** I will, your honour. Any other orders ? " " That is all," said the duke. " A lucky voyage to you. If things go well, I daresay my friends won't forget you." The captain emptied the flagon with a sigh of regret, slid off his chair, and after a salute at the doorway, struggled through it and disappeared. The duke ordered his carriage. Five minutes afterwards he started on his return journey to the Hague. * * ♦ ♦ • About a week later a salute announced the arrival of an English gun-boat at Scheveningen, where her majesty's ship Mermaid was lying amongst a crowd of fishing-boats and coasting craft. The gun-boat was accompanied by the Fkur de Lys, in charge of the worthy Kermode, with half a dozen Dutchmen and a cabin-boy for crew. When the brig had cast anchor and taken in sail, the captain left the cook on board and rowed ashore with the rest of the crew. Leaving them at the jetty, he went off to the Hague and inquired for the duke at his hotel. Here he found Cardonnel, who told him that the duke was away, reviewing a new contingent of Hanoverians. The baron von Bothmar, for whom the duke was waiting, had not yet arrived, nor was there any news of him. "We will report your safe arrival to the duke," said the secretary, " and you had better call again in the morning. If anything occurs in the meantime, we will let you know. Of course, the Mermaid is in readiness to sail at an hour's notice." The oaptain pulled his forelock and retired. When he got back to Scheveningen and sought his crew at the 'ett" *"•" found the boat occupied by the cabin-boy alone. Inquiring after the others, he was told they had gone for a drink. This i '1 B Ikent Squire 131 n. " This f the brig, to no one e as secret " Deliver Df the gun- ) for you, le captain igen." ► you. J) If egret, slid struggled > carriage. ourney to val of an sty's ship joats and by the ith half a le captain est of the le Hague he found reviewing Bothmar, I, nor was said the ning. If now. Of s notice." :n he got jetty, he Inquiring ik. This information elicited a volley of imprecations from the captain, followed by an injunction to the cabin-boy to remain where he was, under blood-curdling penalties, till the miscreants came back. After this the captain decided that it was due to the occasion to go for a drink himself. He accordingly proceeded in the direction of a certain tavern, familiar to him from former visits, and known as the ' Prinz van Oranje.' Just as he reached this hostelry, however, he suddenly stopped, slapped his thigh, and muttered to himself, "Split me if to-day isn't my birthday! Clean forgot it- clean forgot it. Kit, my man, your wits must be going. To think I was going to bed sober on this night of all the nights in the year ! " The captain shook his head with acute self-reproach at his forgetfulness of a sacred duty, and entered the door of the tavern. CHAPTER XVI A FAMILY MEETING The parlour of the ' Prinz van Oranje ' was a long, low room with oak wainscoting all round, black with age and the nicotine from generations of smokers. Wide settees ran along each wall, and a table of Gargantuan weight and dimensions stood midway. Three hanging copper ship's lamps, of which two only were lit, hung from the carved beams of the ceiling Ihese lamps had polished reflectors, which focused the light on the table, and left the settees and their occupants in com- parative darkness. The room was filled with tobacco-smoke of the density of a modern London fog when captain Kermode waddled m, took his seat, and proceeded to celebrate his buthday. J K^^'^^P^^'"'" ^^'^""^ °^ performing this function was one which did not unduly tax hi.s powers of invention. It consisted mainly in getting drui.V. in the afternoon, instead of following his usual routine of waiting till evening. As a minor detail, he took some little trouble to get drunk on the best rum, while . _ „ „„3 aaiiSiicu witn any kma oi spirit which was good enough to be smuggled. But to prevent mis- apprehension, It must be clearly understood that the worthy 122 a Ikent Squire i; !i if I i ! .1 1 1 - f 1 * E captain never got drunk except on shore, or when occupying the irresponsible status of a passenger afloat. He now took a seat opposite one of the lamps, h't his pipe, and mixed his grog with the deliberation of a man who has a serious undertaking before him. He leaned back as he alter- nately smoked and imbibed, and his bronzed face disappeared into the penumbra of shadow cast by the copper reflector The sound of uproarious revelry came in fitful gusts from the bar of the tavern, where half a dozen Rhine bargemen were getting rid of a month's wages. But for some time no one entered the parlour, and the captain, enveloped in an ever thickening cloud of tobacco-smoke, made steady progress towards his promised degree of inebriety. Occasionally, after a fresh brew, he closed his eyes, and smoked for some minutes with rather less energy than before These intervals signified that the captain's thoughts were dwelling upon certain distant members of his family It happened that the birthday of three of his four half-brothers who were triplets, fell upon the same day as his own. There was, therefore, a certain tender sentiment connected with the fact that m his family's far-away adopted home at Nantucket or somewhere on the bosom of the Atlantic, his next-of-kin were carefully getting drunk at the same time in honour of the same occasion. Once, after the captain's pipe had nearly gone out, he leaned forward to attend to its well-being and at the same time to mix a fresh glass of grog. This brought his face for the moment within the radius of the lamp-light. As he leaned back again. It seemed to his now somewhat obscured vision that a face emerged from the smoky gloom.on the opposite side of the table 1 he face, he thought, looked at him searchingly, and then retiring, disappeared in the darkness. Upon this, the captain used the surviving intelligence at his disposal to philosophise. 1 must be getting drunk," he murmured softly to himself Always know I'm getting drunk when I see things. Here have I been thinking of brother Matthew and the rest for the last half-hour Now, d'ye see, it's for all the world as if I really saw hun just then. Wonderful, isn'c it ? '" Having in this way anticipated, by more than a century and a half, the theory of expectant attention as a source of hallucinations, the captain peacefully dozed for a few seconds. When he next opened his eyes, another face, rather higher from the floor than the former one, was visible in the foggy halo of lamp-light. This face, too, in its turn disappeared B tkcwt Squire 123 occupying lit his pipe, m who has as he alter- lisappeared actor, gusts from bargemen e time no ped in an ly progress eyes, and an before, ghts were imily. It f-brothers, n. There 1 with the 'fantucket, lext-of-kin 3ur of the he leaned ne to mix i moment ack again, lat a face the table, and then, xe captain )sophise. himself, ;s. Here !st for the d as if I 1 century source of seconds, er higher the foggy ared. ■i " I must be very drunk," meditated the captain. ** I could have sworn that was brother Mark, in his own flesh and blood, though he's three thousand miles away on the cod-banks." By this time a third face, still higher up than its predecessor, gleamed forth for a moment, and then was lost in the gloom. All this time the noise from the bar continued without intermission. " Split me ! " muttered the captain, " this must be rare good rum. If that had been brother Luke himself it couldn't have favoured him more. As like as two kippered herrings. Wonderful ! " At this moment a fourth face appeared. To all appearance it came from the ceiling, and, unlike the others, was directly over the captain's head. It was accompanied by a long arm and a hand like a shoulder of mutton, which slapped the captain's back with such vigour that the pipe flew out of his mouth across the table, while a hoarse voice roared through the smoky fog, " How are ye, brother Kit ? " The captain looked up, speechless with astonishment. The three other faces re-emerged from the shade opposite, and three voices, hoarser than the former one, echoed the salutation, " How are ye, brother Kit ? " " Brother John ! Well, sink me ! " said the captain at length. " Shake hands, brothers all." The four strangers solemnly shook hands with their relative, one after the other. *' And how do you find yourselves ? " asked the captain. "Well, we're in our whole skins, and that's about all," replied John, in sepulchral tones of resignation. " And what the mischief brings you all here ? " "An ill wind, brother. We're castaways— lost ship, cargo, and kit— we haven't a stiver or a rag but what we stand in." A confirmatory grunt came from the rest of the brothers. '• That's bad news. What ! lost the Hoya/ Mary 1 " " Ay ! The new schooner we told you of— as neat a craft as ever wet keel— Nantucket to London with cod. Fair weather up to the Goodwins. Whole gale from sou'-west. Carried fway rudder. Drove on to banks south of here. Broke up iiitu niatchwood. Got ashore on ship's timber and wreckage. Walked here." " That's so," growled the brothers in chorus. ''! u\'> U l,f 124 a ment Squfrc the captain sympathetically. M ' " Lord ! Lord ! " muttered " Had anything to eat ? " rJ.',M°l ^ niouthful. Chewed our last quid at mid-dav Couldn't speak a word of the lingo hereabouts" ^' Ahe captain made a desperate effort to rise. After one or to'^thr doS o? fhe r" ""s ''''u \"^, ^^^^-^ ^ ^-^"- "-- n such aDnalHna ,n \u ?f ' ^^ ^""^^"'^ ^" ^^^^^ ^^ Dutch looK me place of the mcreasmg uproar of the revellers His behest was promptly followed by the appearance of a wake togXef w"h mu".' ''^T ^"f ^ hugrflagonflchn'app: brothers. ^ * ''''°'^^" P'^'^'' ^"^ ''"^^^^ ^^^ the fou^ ti Jr^T '''''"^'^' ^^" "P°" ^^^ provisions with the appetite of eves w'h."'n'"'^f ''• ^^^^' ^^P^^'" '°°^^^d on with Approving thf;..!^ t ^^^^" '"^^^P °^ t'^e board had been made b? edItiorfX ?ear °' '" '•"^^"^"' ^^^ ^^^^^ ^ ^ --^ In a quarter of an hour this also had disappeared and the four brothers eaned back in a state of blissful repletion The aSion'"""'' ^^^' °' ^^^ ^^^^^-- - turn'lTseri'ou: ;; Have some more ? Say the word ! " said he. T K I?' me-thank ye kindly, brother," replied the eieantic "ecrsse^ !f'T ""^ '^"Pf '™^ ''""'^ -"^ drawn flomTht recesses of therr side-pockets, and five columns of smoke fw n r™,'? ^""^ "'"8'« ™ the ceiling. AnySgeT"' '"'' *^ '^P'^'"' "'«'' ^^= "ow things stand. the' nattv" "'wLf *'""'" 'fP''^'^ J"''"' ^^ spokesman for hs S^h^'r.,^ 'Z i"""^ """" ''"''= '"°n5' we had in a hore St^cL oTh» k*"" '""°"«'' "''•' "'^'^''''8^. ^"'"""int' H^t !,„ ? . ''"P^!»Pe^s myself, and that's all." sailorlshton';"*'"'' '" °"^'"" P='"='=»'- "-"^ -"n up in in Z'schoone;!' w"a™t if? ■■' "'"^'"- " ^^''' >'--' ^-"^s '• Ay. And she earned a good livine for all fnnr ^f „-■ — Pr smce we launched her five years ago come rVwr/moc ' xt we're nought but paupers again " ^ Christmas. Now Jathetically. it mid-day. ^fter one or ious course :r in Dutch Jck silence Hers. His of a waiter schnapps, >r the four appetite of approving 1 made by 1 a second d, and the ion. The th serious e gigantic itentment laid it on :s. Pipes fiom the 3f smoke igs stand. sman for e had in wimming all." n up in i' savings r us ever s. Now a Ikent Squire 125 The brothers grunted dolorously in sympathy. "Well, boys," said the captain, "what's mine's yours— no need to say that." " Ay, you've always been main good to us, brother Kit- dry-nursed us all from babbies, as you might say," remarked •'^u";^ ",-^^' ^°ys?" turning to his companions in misfortune. That s so,' assented Matthew. Mark and Luke nodded their heads approvingly. "But I'm down on my luck a bit myself," resumed the captain. " My two last cargoes got nabbed by the coastguards, and I'm doing a job here under engagement while things pull round— taking a brig over to London. Jingo ! " he ejaculated suddenly, bringing his fist down on the table, "you shall all ship with me." " Have you no crew ? " asked John. "Ay— five Dutchies. But they're all getting blind drunk somewhere. We'll sail without them, and leave them to get sober when they choose. Come along and have a look at the craft, and the captain got upon his legs. The four brothers rose also. When standing they formed a crescendo of stature, ascending from five feet three in the case of Matthew to John's six feet seven. The latter was, however, the leanest and boniest of the family, while the others successively gained in bulk what they missed in height. The captain's globular form of five feet one terminated the scale in the inverse direction. The score having been paid when the viands were brought m, the party passed through the bar without stopping and emerged mto the open air. The moon was shining brightly. 1 he captain, leading the way with John, took the road through the port to the shipping anchorage. He ruminated in silence for several minutes, and the brothers walked along without word or comment. ^ A hundred paces from the water-side they came upon an open space where several ships' masts and other timbers lay ^tonnpH ^c°''"'^;i^ ^?"\ P^'''"S some of these, the captain nl?rfvln '""^i^"^^ ^^^' Mmh^w, who was just behind, nearly fell over him. hJl^Z^ \" f''^ -^^^ r^P,^^^"' '^^^^"g ^'^ hat and scratching his head slowly, " wait a bit." ^ The four brothers came to a halt in an attitude of attention. r^minT' J "">■ repealed the captain meditatively. "It's ^o™'"g- I shall have it m a minute." The brothers waited respectfully for the promised arrival, i 126 a •Rent Squire |i J and John whispered to Luke, whose ear was on the nearest level to his mouth, *' Let him alone. He's got summat in his head." Luke agreed with a nod. " He'd always a rare head, had Kit," said he. The captain gazed abstractedly at the glittering line of the moon's reflection in the water, then at his companions, and then at nothing m particular. The four brothers, with a con- fidence m the inexhaustible resources of their kinsman which had characterised them all since childhood, exchanged looks of admiring wonder. "That's it!" suddenly ejaculated the captain, with a slap of his leg that echoed like the report of a pistol— " that's it ' bit down, the lot of ye ! " and he pointed to the nearest baulk of timber. The brothers obediently sat down in a row. The captain stood facing them with as much steadiness as his recent potations permitted. " Brother John," said he, with deliberation, " listen to me " I m listening," replied John expectantly. "You've been telling me a pack of lies— d d lies— the d dest lies I ever heard in my life." " What ! " roared John, getting up. "Sh! sit down!" The captain put one hand on John's shou der as the latter rather discontentedly resumed his seat and laid a finger of the other solemnly against his nose. Ir' the moonlight a wink of infinite meaning could be detected in his left eye. The brothers, taught by long experience, awaited some important development. "Brother John," resumed the captain, with his finger still significantly pressed against his nose, "you're a liar, and you know it. You've been making game of me with this cock-and- bull story about shipwreck and all the rest of it." Luke was abo .o protest against this sudden incredulity on the part of his kinsman, but John at once put his hand over the other's mouth. "Hold your jaw," said he, in his brother's ear. « Don't vou see he's working it out ? " " Ilave you toid anyone else this yarn about the loss of the schooner ? asked the captain. " Hadn't a chance," replied John. "Only met two women and a bov. and couldn'f make 'pm nn/iorcfop^ „ .„„_j >» All the better. You might have bamboozled them, and had another sm on your souls. You won't bamboozle me." a IRcnt Squire 127 :he nearest line of the tiions, and ith a con- nan which iged looks ith a slap " that's it ! rest baulk le captain lis recent n to me." lies — the >n John's I his seat, lose. Ir itected in ', awaited nger still and you :ock-and- iulity on and over •on't you ; loss of • women im, and me.'' John listened with all his ears. aP ?°"t1' uS'?^^ ^ '^°'^ ^'■°"' ^'■s* to last. Lost the Royal Mary? Rubbish! Why, you infernal liar, you know she's ridmg at anchor, safe, sound, and trim, this very moment ' " John kept his eyes fixed on the captain, awaiting a clue to these cryptic utterances. The other brothers nudged Them ' '" ^°^^" ^^""^ ""^"^^ ^^^ ^°' ^ ^'^^'^ *^®y^"^ " That's how you've left her," resumed the captain, " and you know it. I suppose you're having a look round, for a day or two, m these foreign parts. Quite right. Uncommon glad to see you all before you're homeward bound again If j:L"VwT.'e To London" '''°" ""' '''' '='"^' ''" '^"^ suitL'haV'to foK "'^ """''^ ■""" "' '''' *'"""'^ -hat I' We can manage that, I daresay," said he. And don't tell me or anyone else any more lies." brothlrs. '''''' ^""^ -^^^^ '°°^'^ significantly at his three "You'd better stay at the 'Prinz van Oranje' till I'm ready to weigh anchor. If you meet any Englishman, and hav^to answe? left ?hT'Jp°"''7Jj' '"V^t ^^"^^ ^"^ ^^^"^^ *he devil. You've InH It T- f«r-^ d'scharging part of her cargo at ?" and the captain looked expectantly at his half-brother Johns imagination was not his strong point. However he made^a desperate effort to be equal V the occasLn 'and " Ostend." "Of course," said the captain, in a pleased tone '« Nnw about that same craft. I wan^t to Jee her!^ I'd like to'know her cut, colour, and rig, so that if she happened to heave in si^ht tZX^o.^:'^^:^^'^^^ ' ^^-^^^"- her!^Th^>sl^J a |^%r Erta^^f rs' -'-'' -^^-^^ ^^-^ ^^^ ^Something like that," said he. skiD Jerlhl""^'' '^^ ^^'Y^' ^->'^'" ^^'^ the captain. " I'm her fo^rcVo^^^^ ^"' '^^^ ^g^-- I« ^he'any bigger thaa !! ^)?°".t 5.^™e tonnage, I expect." ^^ vvnats ner paint?" " Black hull, white stripe." " What's her figure-head ? " I ■« !'■ '■\> 128 ^ l^ent Squii'e Fine ^^"ToJ.Tsll,,,:^.''^^"^^ ="" ''■='" San which aSe t'/mt:' iZ h"aH r"^'"^-"' ""= ^""^ "' Lys, wa. now a leprous and faded .^n" P"™"^'' Pale blue, a^d represented a monstrous flower unknown^ 1 1'" . fig"f^-head and held in a corrcsnnnrfiS ""''"°"" '° botanical science satisfied with whMwas'^Mss^ni''^, "°"f r^ "^'^ Then, asl to Ws kinsmen. ^ '""« "'™8'' •"= "'nd, he motioned " Up, boys ! Come to the iettv anrf r-ii there waiting. I ,eft her with &£", b„v "''' '^ °"^ '^°'"'' ^. The party moved on until some ^^ sheds came in " l"d' n^ rnt^'ou t''be see",; "" ' ■"■""•^'" -"^ ">^ -ptain. " LuctvT.^ "'^ ^"'P' boarbtlmpty"' "" '^"^- ^"'"d his mates. All the better » ^^'^^^^""8 rascal has gone after ^-^^^Ff^!^et;r^::^Tl "^^.i'^^^-"^. and rowed off no^ reply. ^ ^"""'"^ alongside, he hailed, and received •* Look-out drunk," he soliloquised « l^w ,\ u He made fast, and climbed th^f.n^ , J '^ ^^"^'^ ^gain." the ship's side. ' Arrived on deek^^^^^^^ pu^apra^-;-ppa£rs - ^- --■ to thV^&^^Xte 'Vouid' £^ter" '-' V«°'"^ ^^^ rr^ny „i!is-r :;;rt B'c^r ""^^^^ eabin, without anybody belne a h^, ''".T T "" "^V '" ™y go ashore in the mornin. a„d nP?* '^ "''*>'■ ' "'">« come back. ThereT be iltioni r ""■" u'"=>' "" y" 'iH I your jaw while I'm gone NnhL ^°"','"" J""" ">"=' hold D'ye see ? " * ™°'""'i' ""« know you're aboard. the'c'^t^L^t'the^dSytd r'ow'^ X^^' ""'<'=' ^"""ed & ,f^,,%T" l/T"^^ !^-'^^^- — "'.l-^t th"' stop rowing. ^'' brothers, m an alarmed Tone, to ^ ■r Sail. Fine ■ Fleur de Lys, pale blue, and er figure-head anical science, Then, as ii , he motioned if our boat's »eds came in the captain. e sheds, and ty. Arrived as gone after d rowed off md received etter again." anging over e forecastle, t was heard 3oat again, going back "d the brig 3 drunk to way in my >■• I must you till I must hold re aboard. , followed 2 J^/eur de ing in the i tone, to a Ifvcnt Squire 129 "What's the matter?" asked the captain. "Brother Mark," said Luke, in a trembling voice, "haven't we seen that brig before i " ' The three other brothers turned round to look at the J'/eur de Lys. Luk^"'"^ '^''^ "''" ^J^-iculated Murk, "you're right, brother rhl^^''i"^''*-^*'if^u^'-''"° l^utchman we passed in the Cha inel," said Matthew. ' impatiemlyl'''^ ^°" '" ^'"'^'""^ ^^^°"^-'" ^'^^^ ^he captain .^':^\^!^'^:J:^^ "^"'^ "'^'""^^' "^'^ ■-'^ ^^e first time " Well if you've seen her twice, what of that ? " We didn't like the looks of her," said Luke. " She'd had the plague on board, and there wasn't a soul to navigate her." ^^ How the blazes do you know ?" asked the captfin. We saw It written on a flag. She was steering herself without any crew, unless she had boggarts aboard."^ ' Ihats so, echoed the others, with the earnestness of superstitious terror. cduiesiness ot "Rot!" roared the captain angrily. "She came into mv arTlnd'^not T' h' 'T '^""^^"^^"' ^" ^ hTaTthy'as yoi are, and not a word of your d d plague or bo^p/rf^ ,hJ''^ l'™*'^" hesitated. But after another exordium from heVpfucTedTS?' ,"'* ^''" ""'^ ^'S°™»^ -l*'^e" ro«n|idf .he*£'t ThT^^^^^ZnEel' «S1o ^H^ H Ji""' ^' r ^^''^ ^^'^^^y seen, was somewhat stinted in dimensions by reason of the sleeping-berths around if Bu" the latter point was to the advantage of the cantain's n^n and the four brothers were soon sleeping the slee?of the^ ust' m their respective bunks. ^ J"^^ ^n t; far"sidr• rels, several erful ship's w. d wreckers' and figure- ler of con- : had been confidential ;sult of this ant sum in aid it over ce's hotel, ipers, stood juerry, and ay's work, equerry a court, now IS and the Cardonnel a "Kent Squire ,31 fnr'^nT^TU Captain Kermode. The duke has been asking for you. That was the equerry of the baron de Bothmar," he observed as they mounted the stairs. " The baron will be ?o m'"ik ^u *'°"''-. ^^'''^ '' ^^^ c^P'^'". my lord," he said to Marlborough, openmg the door of the duke's private roorS St Geor^o nr^.^"p ^"'''''"^' ' ?'"''^ ^^ '^'^ chevalier de nL,- T i r^*- ^-'■'"a'"' assunng the Pretender of his continued and fervent devotion to the cause of the Stuarts and h.s determination to leave no stone unturned to secure for the queen (meanmg thereby the widow of Tames II) the dowry which the English government had taken ca^enc^e to pay over He further urged the king, as he called him' on no account to retire into Italy, which would probabh^ be demanded by the Tory ministry as a condition of peace ^ To quote from this letter, as we find it in the Stuart Papers? tvmli^ fi?'^^ •"! ^^^ '^^"P'^ '^'" ^^ gradually opened. Thev will see their in erest in restoring the King. ". . The French kmg and h.s ministers will sacrifice everythng to their own views of peace. The earl of Oxford and hi! assocSeHn ofobah ; '^^"'^ "'""'V*''^ S^°""d °f 'heir adversade ?• vv l" probably insist upon the Kings retiring to Italy But he must never consent. ... To retire to Italy, by the livine God IS the same thing as to stab him to the heart I ofrce^ve what I have done." f^/ ^17yea4/w?s'Luh1r ^l?om '^^^^^^^ the royal family, nor ill-will to their cause ■ but to h!,mh - b'eLsrto^£-,-^/or^- -^^^^^^^^^ been done, favoL'SfcZe of the^^in^ ' .^God^'wi olul:! above, seems visibly to dispose all fortlie best As for J,? I have been treated unworthily • but God has bles;pH mVf .^^ ' great deal of temper and forbearance oF m?nd As fo he Kings affairs, occasion is only wanting tnm„ ;.,i V 5 Almighty has placed matters in sS a fra n SJt if. ?°^ any rate succeed," etc., etc. ' * ^^ """^^ ** in fhV nrel"''nf v' ^ 'r?'^'"^ '"''^'' ^"^ ^^^ not found time * The Whigs i1 »3a H Ikcnt Squire before to the elector of Hanover, and of which a rough draft lay on the table b'^'ore him. Having finished, signed, and sealed up his letter, the duke handed it to Cardonnel. " Let the chevalier's messenger return with this at once," said he. Cardonnel addressed the cover of the letter and went out with it. The duke turned to Kermode. " Well, captain ! ' said he affably. " Good day to your honour," responded the captain, pulling .lis fort lock. " The baron will be here in a few minutes. You had better wait. He may decide to sail today. Shall you be ready ? " "We could weigh anchor at five o'clock, your honour; the tide won't serve before then. But most of my men got drunk last night— I'm doubtful if they'll be fit for duty. I daresay I can make shift till morning with the cook and the boy. Wind and weather's as fair as can be." The duke reflected that the cargo of the Fkttr de Lys was not one to run any risks with. On tlu other hand, he was in a hurry. " Better get some more men," said he. This did not suit the captain's views at all. " Lord bless your honour ! " said he, " that would be sheer waste of wages and rations. Even if we had to wait a tide behind your honour, we should pick your honour up in the twelve hours. The brig will sail three knots an hour faster than the queen's ship." Although this appealed to the duke's notions of economy, he was loth to entertain the idea of parting from his treasure. But he was afraid lest .some suspicion should be excited by too obvious a reluctance to let the brig go out of sight. The Channel was so notoriously free from privateers, apart from the popular belief that peace was imminent, that it was absurd to affect concern for the brig's safety. " Very well," said he, at length. " Be ready. Put your men under hatches if you can't keep them on board otherwise." " Right, your honour. But " " Well ? " "Just now they're too drunk to be got aboard unless they're boisted in." **' Then hoist them in." " Easier said than done, your honour, with only a cabin-boy fit to bear a hand." 1 a fjcnt SqiUre rough draft r, the duke s at once," i went out ain, puHing had better ready ? " onniir; the I got drunk I daresay i the boy. de Lys was , he was in i be sheer vait a tide up in the lour faster economy, s treasure. 2xcited by ght. The I part from vas absurd your men wise." ;ss they're cabin-boy 133 'I Gut a couple of men from the Mermaid to help you." VVil your honour give me a letter to the captain?" 1 he duke scrawled a short note. "Take this," said he, pushing it across the table, retired!""" ^^""^"^^ P'^''^^ "P '^e paper gingerly, saluted, and (^!^l}'' descended the stairs a great commotion was heard. Outnders ga loped up to the hotel, and the rumbling of half a dozen travell.ng-carriages became audible. Everybody ran to the doors and windows as a distmgu.shed personage vvISi a gorgeous retmue, drove up to the door. This was th^ baron von Bothmar envoy of the elector of Hanover at the court of bt. James, and now en route to London. out'ofMs clrSge' '"" '° "^^'^^ ^^^ '''P^^'"^^-^^ ^ ^^ ^^t '« ilr Kl'Tf "'^ ^^^"'''' "^y ^^^' ^"'^e." said the b-ron Dehghted to see you again. My august master charges me with his warme". grec'ings to you." ^"^ffees me " His highn ss know that he has no more devoted servant TheT^ ''\''^ " V'"^^' ^ ^h^y -^"^ upstairs "^ .7 5f oaron s. nk into r fnuteuiV, and panted. ^.JS u ^ ■ -' ,>?unger," he remarked. " But you my dear duke have me elixir of perpetual youth." ^ ' ^ for .K the contrary," soM the duke, "it is only my anxietv the secur'y Tthe^rV'.' ^'''''''''' success^on'an/'fo II ^5^""ty,pf the elector's interests that keeos me un of dTetheSotsi;^ --^^ ^^e Pretender!^^^"A;i°d^ tt '« It fs"fnJ^/h.l^''"'!J^ ."""'' ^^ combated," exclaimed the envoy. It IS for that, and to urge the prosecution of the war tha we^rrvTinTon^Jn'^Th ' ^°""^ ^^-^^^ /ssitn^^Vh'en off at an haza^Ss." ^^' P"'"" negotiations must be broken ]] ^tf 1 hazards," assented the duke. "We shall be resolutely seconded hv M de Bi— ^ u-__ A reruarkably able man, M. de Buys > "'' '"' ''' ' ""^''" 134 a Ikeiit Squire ll .1 I |);i " And now, as to our voyage— let me thank you again for your goodness in offering me a passage in her majesty's ship. You are quite sure I and my people will not inconvenience you ? " "Not in the least. But you must not look for luxurious quarters, my dear baron. I am afraid we shall be packed rather close. The Mermaid is only a small cruiser— not a ship of the line," explained the duke, who did not wish to be bored with more of the envoy's company than he could help. " I think I can promise you better accommodation in a week or so, if you like to wait for one of the frigates calline off the port." ^ The baron cogitated. He liked to be comfortable, and knew by experience that wherever Marlborough went other people in some indefinable way always found themselves very much in the background. But his instructions were to get to London with all possible speed, and the result of even a week's delay might be dangerous. So he made a virtue of necessity, and replied, " That would deprive me of the pleasure of your company, my dear duke. No ; let us get to work as soon as possible When do you sail ? " "We are only awaiting your convenience, baron. This evening's tide will do for me, if it will do for you." "At what hour?" " Can you be on board at five ? " " Certainly. That will give me six hours' blessed sleep in the interval." And the baron yawned portentously. Marlborough rang his bell, and Cardonnel entered. " Make the baron comfortable in my room," said the duke "and don't let him be disturbed till four o'clock." ' " You are too good, duke," said the baron, rising, and yawn- mg more widely than before. "You must pardon me— those horrible roads have prevented me getting a wink of sleep the last three nights." Cardonnel took the baron off to the duke's bedroom. When he returned, he bore a letter which he handed to the duke. "By a special messenger from the earl of Godolphin, in London," he said "Let him be well treated, and wait. Probably he will go back with as= And tell Kermnde thnt the Ms-naid sails this evening. He must keep company with us if he possibly can." I I I 1 again for jesty's ship, onvenience r luxurious be packed ser — not a ot wish to I he could odation in ites calling table, and i^ent other lelves very ere to get of even a I virtue of company, 3 possible. an. This leep in the the duke, and yawn- ne — those sleep the bedroom, ed to the 9lphin, in ly he will •j-^.-v :i_ ■ritliu 3UII3 i possibly &\ a IRent Squire 135 Cardonnel bowed and went out. The duke opened the letter and read, "Dear Jack, Come back without delay. Medina has ratted, and the Tories are on the scent of the army contracts. GODOLPHIN." " Gad ! it's time I was off," said the duke to himself, as he burnt the letter in the stove behind his chait. CHAPTER XVIII CAPTAIN KERMODE CHANGES HIS CREW Captain Kermode paid a visit to a tobacconist's shop before lookmg up his truant crew. Here he inquired for the strongest snuff obtainable, and bought some rappee, warranted to coax a sneeze from the nose of a stone gargoyle. Putting this in his pocket, he made his way to the tavern where he had left the sailors asleep in the outhouse. Four of them were now awake. Three were sitting up in the straw and bawhng for liquor. The mate, actuated by a certain sense of his official responsibilities, was holding his head under the P,"T.P S'^^ ^" unkempt stable-boy pumped upon his bald skull. 1 he fifth was beginning to stretch himself and to erunt snatches of uncouth melody. The captain apostrophised his crew with all the objurgatory Dutch epithets at his command, while privately congratulating himself that they were stili by no means inconveniently sober He then invited them to come aboard without delay This they positively refused to do, unless they had another drink nrst. It suited the captain to wink at this very incomplete sub- ordination. ^ "Bring a bottle of Schiedam and glasses," he called to the pot-boy. vai^shed^'^^"^^ cheered at this gratifying order, and the pot-boy "^^^^ to the bar, lads," said the captain, foreseeing u... ,{1^ ay ^jj currying out nis piuns in the open daylight of the stable-yard. ^ The sailors followed him, with devious tracks and an 136 B Ikent Squire Ir h occasional stumble against the wall, into the gloom of the bar The pot-boy put a huge flagon on the table, and retired. The captam held the flagon up to the light V\l'lTfu- " f '^K^^' u *^^ '■^''^' ^""^ g'^e" "« ^^on measure. pLage "''' P'°P^'-" ^"^ ^^ ^'^"^ '"^^ the and^^L'n^^rht ^o^tntpr °^ ^""" ^"^° ^^^ ^-'^' liq^oT.tnne'n^b: ^ ''■ "^°^^' ^°^^' ^-" --^h t'^e .pInH ^'■^^, ^^°Pt^d the first suggestion with alacrity; the second mvolved some little difficulty. But by getting the six men to al^n themselves in a row. arm-in-arm^, iTthe ma e at one end and the captain at the other, a gridual approach was m course of time efl-ected towards the jetty ^PP'^'^^n bv^ir^'^K^^ u^ water-stairs, the captain and the mate, assisted With considerable trouble, but without accident, they were ?oreStir Thf '^'^f'? '''^ ^'^ ^° >«-- them i/to the forecastle. This was all the more difficult because all the seamen, except the mate, were beginning to feel the eff-ects without any necks being broken. The cook, now awake and It was about three o'clock. The captain got the brig ready for putting to sea with the ebb-tide, and waited anx.^ ously for the arrival of his purchases of th; morning These whhin'X T ^'^f "^ '^r'^^ afterwards, and were^ followed \Mthin the hour by a large wooden crate or box which was floated alongside. This case, it may be rSemioned contained the wooden figure, more Ihan life'size! ofa womar! with a rough crown on her head. Doubtless the capiain !n n.nt'^'° T^ f " ^^^^^'-^^'^^ ^°^ hi« ga'-den at home .n Deptford, after the manner of seafarin| men with an establishment on shore. Two men brought the crate, towed behind eir boat Prompted by the expectation of a glass of grog. : ^ey assisted the captain in getting it on deck and into the hold by r^efns of the windlass and a block at the gaff-head. The mate served ont the promised liquor, and the men rowed away. At has, -past four a gig came up from liie Mermaid with an anquiry from Marlborough as to the brig's readiness to s^l" )f the bar. red. The measure, t into the be bottle, with the rity; the ig the six the mate approach , assisted ■ de Lys, hey were into the i all the e effects it below ake and id make :he brig ^d anxi- These followed , which ntioned, woman captain t home vith an r boat. assisted ■ means e mate y- with an to sail. .| a •Rent Squire ,37 Nothing was said about the proffer of help made in the mormng. Probably the duke had forgotten all about it Ihe captain, who knew that the Mermaid, from her heavy fh.TI 'k''^^^^.""'^ cross the bar at high tide, sent word that he hoped to start before seven o'clock. Half an hour afterwards the Mermaid weighed anchor and passed slowly out into the darkness. About eight o'clock the captain, for reasons of his own got into a furious rage with the cabin-boy, paid him a week's wages, and had h.m put on shore by the mate. When the alter returned the captain hoisted sail, dropped down w th the fag-end of the ebb, and steered out to sea n the direcdon taken by the Mermaid. The masthead lights of thrS could be seen on the horizon. In less than an hour, to the captain's unsoeaJ'ahlP satisfaction, a thick fog came rolling up from the Sh Sea o^hot'coff^e """""' '"''^ '"^ ^°'^ ^™ ^^ -^^^ t-° bow!^ tillhtloestcl''^ '""'" "'' '^' ''^"^ ^^^"^ "^y '^^ -heel HnJAl ''?"'' u^^'l °? ^""^ ^^'^ ^^P'^'" hastily proceeded to Wmself.' ''' °^ ''^'' ''''^ ^""«'- '^"h^ "^^te presented "Put this inside of you,^' remarked the captain. " No more grog, and no off-watches, till those blackguards below are ^sober enough to work the ship. This'll kelp your eye" The mate drank the coffee without much enthusiasm, the c^pta^n ' '""^ '""^ '^' '°°^ ^ere," continued his^^SsoTtdln^ ''' ^°°' ^^^'^"^^^^ ^'-^ -^- - ou;;'?;"^ tL%c!' "^ "'•"' ^"^ ^'^^^ ^^ ^«^-^ ^^ ^-^ This was done. The captain locked the door as the cook S^abin^^ ''' '^'-''^''^^^ P--^^ of tL^dtc^n "We must be wide amike now, boys," he whisoered brother' '" ">' '''"•" '"P"''' J"''"' f" himself and «nSa'ichS"'iS;r„:;;:yrLeS;°Lr"- "°" '■" 138 B •Rent Squire The captain went on deck. The cook was asleep under the bulwarks forward, and the mate was nodding and lurching as he stood by the wheel. The stars shone overhead, but the horizon was lost in mist and the wind was freshening. The captain kept an eye on the ship's course and waited. A quarter of an hour later the mate sank to the deck, rolled over on his side, and snored stentoriously. The captain left the helm, went to the cabin door, and called his half-brothers. The four men silently emerged upon deck. "You must stow these two fellows in the fo'castle," said the captain, pointing to the recumbent forms of the cook and the mate. The brothers laid hold of the two men and deposited them, heavily asleep, in the forecastle. The captain returned to the wheel, altered the brig's course, and steered for the north. The fog came up in vast wreaths, cold and impenetrable. It swept over the Fleur de Lys, and the brig disappeared as if by enchantment. « H " The brig disappeared." -Pane LIS. \ ■ i fe'"*' 1: ' f 1 f ": 1: 1 '' !. BOOK n H (Sreat treason tS9 I- ■ ^H I--' 1 PTTTj^r ■t ."' f 1 ^Hi f ' mL't'l LU^ H ikcnt Squire 141 CHAPTER XIX THE ABUt GAULTIER IS SUDDENLY INDISPOSED The two days which followed M. de Torcy's departure from J^aiais, on his journey to Antwerp, were spent by Gwynett in interviewing various officials to whom he was introduced by ^" R^SHTu r?"'- ^'' ^°P"' °^ '^^'^^y ^^^^"•"g something 01 Randolph Dorrmgton were disappointed. Neither the name nor the individual seemed to be recognised by any of his ;nter ocutors and there was no record which could be Identified with the missing man in the police dossiers of he province. It became, therefore, a question of waiting the^ result of the inquiries at headquarters set on foot by the fn^^'^f i-" ^'^e evening of the second day a courier arrived hot- " My dear M. Gwynett, rr,Li^J^\^^^ you to do me the favour to make good all the marks of removal of the cases in the F/eur de Lys, a" we arranged M^Daguerre is instructed to afford you the necessa^v fac.ht.es for doing this alone and unobserved^ When effected £:Vatraf 'o-^ce! ^'^ ^^"' ^^ ^^^ ^^*« '^^ "^^ ^^^^^^^ If you will honour me by staying a few days at mv h6tel in Par.s we shall no doubt by thit time hea? all thS is to be learned about your missing compatriot. The beare- f this ^" ^^^°''- DE TORCY." Gwynett decided at once to accept the invitation, and wrote a reply accordingly. This he proceeded to hand to M Daguerre, whom he found in a state bordering on distraction at the contents of the letter he had received from the marquis Was ever anything so unlucky ? " he lamented to Gwynett I am completely at a loss; and the marquis makes it a matter of urgency." " What is the matter ? " " First of all, he tells me to put you on the and leave "ou necessary m onir im;. \l again, t privacy for as long as you find Is that inconvenient ? " Not at all. But I am to remove certain cases from the h'(t-u ■'ul li , . ii If !-. ■■Jit.- f:-ll 14a a Ikcnt Squire mi^ hold of the brig, and A.- ward them instantly to Paris under escort and in charge of a thoroughly experienced and capable officer, who will have a very grave responsibility in the matter he says. u U^^^^ ^^ '^ ^"'^^ "S^*- ^"^ ^'^^t 's the difficulty ? " My dear M. Gwynett, I haven't a soul to send. They robbed me of nv only capable officers a month ago to take a couple o< oiuupfin .^-s of the garrison to marechal de Villars." ^ n ♦ ! r* not absolutely necessary, I suppose. One of your stai; would do just as well." " There is the misfortune. The two best men on my stati are ill— m fact, one is at death's door— and the only other subordinate I could trust has been sent on important business to Dunkerque. I! S^""°^ ^^^ ^ us great in a great to come I'Pstraade Jacquot •ck," said Lvy casos ckle with ;ur, and to wish 1 a nod, "I will facquot, iggested said the 3ts and al wood , if you , while and a >" she favour 5tO. m and " Monsieur has had a long ride," said he. " From Lille," said the abbe. " I must leave my horse somewhere for a short time, as I want to cross to Dover to-morrow, if I can. Is old Lernux in Calais ? " This was one of the fishermen who did a little occasional business in the way of conveying passengers and letters surreptitiously across the Channel. " Yes, monsieur." " When doiis the tide serve ? " " About ten o'clock, monsieur." is reld'''"''*" '^°' ^ ^^'"'^ ^ "^'^ ^° ^° ^^"^ "°^' '* "^y '°°"^ candle '^ ^"'^^ ^^^^^'' '"°"^'^"'"'" ^^'^ Madelon, lighting a The abbd rose, took up his valise, and was duly inducted mto his sleeping-chamber. In five minutes the walls were vibrating with his stertorous snores. .h!!^" ^VTf ^^'^u '" ^^^ morning, having been summoned about eight o'clock by Madelon, he found an old sailor- looking fellow waiting for him. " fit^! m^''°"'''t ''''"^ ^^' ^' ^^ '^* ^°^" to his breakfast, 'Yes?M.Sb'.'''" "°"'"^' ' ^"PP°"^" " Can you manage it for me ? " "Certainly monsieur. As it happens, we are takine letters from milord Middleton by the next tide " thJi'^'^'V " ^''''^ t^ ^^^^' '^"ghing. " l"know nothing about present. Be a little more discreet, my good friend " Leroux grinned and picked up his hat. Monsieur can be ready at ten o'clock?" he asked thl offing/' '""^ ^'"^' ^'"^' '"^ ''-' '^^y ^^- to ^ow out into ^^j'_^I shall be punctual," said the abbd « Do your men know " Only one, monsieur — Lafareue." "The elder?" ^ the'e^v^rZ'?'^^!!' '^! ^^""^^V, '^^^ ^^her is in the crew of ine governors galley at present. "Tell him to hoKi his tongue about me. if possible • he ,\ rather a gossip, if I recollect rijht." possible , he is *" "cry good, monsieur." 10 146 a "Rent Squire 'I I ;fil " What does monsieur wish done about his horse ? " asked Madelon when the meal was concluded. " Can Lestraade do with him here ? It is a good beast ; I I shall like to leave him This bought him the other day in Paris where he will be taken care of." " That can be managed, monsieur." " All the better. I may be back again in a fortnight will serve to go on with." The abb^ handed a couple of pistoles to Madelon, slung his valise over his shoulder, and took up his hat. "Have you any message for the comtesse?" he asked pleasantly as he went out. "I shall tell her, for my part, that the prettiest girl in Beauval is married to the best- looking fellow in Calais." Madelon expressed her appreciation of this compliment by turning red all over. " ^ propos, is there any little Lestraade ? " asked the abb^ at the door. " One, sir— a boy," replied Madelon, curtsying. '• I swear I never heard a sound of him," said the abb^. " It is a beautiful-tempered child," said Madelon fervently. ''Dame! he is clever, that child ; he is teaching himself to be secretary of state," said the abbe. " When I am prime minister, bring him to me, my good Madelon, and he shall hold his tongue to some purpose. Adieu." " A pleasant passage, monsieur." When the abb^ got down to the beach, there was nearly a calm, and it was clear the Belle Jeannette would require to be rowed out of port. Leroux carried the abb^ on his back through the shallow water to the little lugger, and deposited him carefully in the stern-sheets. There were four men in the boat. " Weigh anchor, lads," said Leroux. " Get out the sweeps and you, Lafargue, take the tiller." ' The sailor called Lafargue, who saluted the abb^ as an old acquamtance and who seemed to be disabled from rowing by a sprained wrist, came aft and sat alongside the abb<§. The other four men applied themselves to the long oars, and the Belle Jeannette began to leave the shore behind. "Monsieur is quite comfortable?" asked Lafargue con- fidentially as he stowed away the abbd's valise under the seat, " I heard of monsieur from that good Lestraade this mornin" early. Ihey were very busy at the brig." ^ Lafargue pointed to the Fletir de Lys, which had been put I : a iRent Squire 147 to rights and was now in charge of a crew from the two ingates. All three were hoisting sail. "My brother, whom monsieur perhaps remembers, was monsieu?? "'''"' °" ^^"'- " ^'''^''' ^ '""°"^ ^^"^'^ '^^'' " What is that ? " asked the abbe. "Not I," said the abbd Lafargue plunged into a long and considerably ornamented account of the arrival of the jr/eur de Lys and her Tolkary navigator, mentioning the unusual precautions taken to guard her from inspection, and the mysterious proceedings on the occasion of the marquis's visit to her. "And they did the same this morning," went on the loquacious Lafargue. "The officer was thi e alone not a soul allowed on board for an hour. Then the goiemor's galley came alongside, and the cases were hoisted in.^^ What cases?" asked the abbd, who had not been able to make head or tail of the story. ^ ^° "Eight heavy chests out of the brig's hold, monsieur Mv brother said they had to be very carefSl. If one of them had slipped it would have gone clean through the bolmTf the The abbd pricked up his ears. nodouu!^' '''" "•' '" "^^•' >-^ ^- the bullet-factory, Lafargue shook his head with a smile of superior wisdom lead Th"'"'"''""'- -^'^P'" ^°"'t '"^^ ^" that troube about lead. They are going to send them to Paris." At this stage of the conversation the abbd chanced counfe nance and gave a little groan. ^"angea counf.. "Have you any brandy, my friend?" he r\o ihora y-l/->«»r. .'«. .«„•. a )» . ,..., .,,.^,,.^ \i.w"_3 il nut [ " Certainly, monsieur." The abbd nodded a dismissal, and the hind went on his way 1 . I I . i 152 a f?ent Squire '' / towards the farm. Gaultier rode forward a short distance examining the forest through which the road took its course' It was rather dense at this point, and the trunks of the pines and oaks rose out of a tangled thicket of undergrowth inter- rupted by deep gulhes and pits, and stretching as far as the eye could reach. Several thick-branching larches of great sjze bordered the roadway and overhung it. On either side the thicket was practically impenetrable. " It is all very much as I recollect it," soliloquised the abb6. Nothmg could be better, I think. It remains to be seen whether my sainted friend is also what he used to be. If not I have still the two other strings to my bow— Beauvais and bandncourt. Ah ! what is this ? " A little farther on three or four trees lay felled on each side of the road. The fallen trunks were denuded of their branches, which had been sawn into short lengths and lav in piles at the edge of the thicket. " Admirable ! " said the abb^ to him^-elf. He looked round for a few minutes, and then, turning his horse, rode back to the cross-ways and took the lane to the "!• u ,^5i"^''*^'" of a mile brought him to a group of buildings which had the appearance of an old manor-house turned into a farm. No traces of cultivation, however, appeared in its neighbourhood, and the only sign of occupation was a faint column ot smoke ascending from one of the back chimneys. 1 he abbd rode into the courtyard, and knocked at the door of the mam entrance without dismounting. No one attended to the summons, and he knocked again. After an interval steps were heard inside, A bolt was withdrawn, the door swung backwards, and a man appeared on the threshold. The newcomer was an ecclesiastic of slight, spare' build about sixty years old, with shoulders rounded' as if by per- petual stooping, severely aquiline features, piercing eyes almost lost under thick eyebrows, and a mouth which was scarcely more than a line. He looked at the abb^ without a trace of expression. ";^^f/ my dear Germont," said the abb^, "anyone would think you had forgotten me." At the words the cure lifted his eyebrows as if m recoe- nition, and moved a step for'vards. "Come in," said he imperturbably. "Your patch and wig and spectacles are very surcossful." The abbd dismounted, and was about to fasten his bridle to the porch. I a IRent Squire 153 1 get am " Put your beast in the stable," said the curd, *' while you something to eat. You must excuse ceremony, alone to-day." " All the better," said the abbd. He led his horse in the direction indicated, and after having provided for its comfort, so far as a mouthful of mouldy hay permitted, he returned to the porch and made his way to the back of the house. The curd awaited him in a sort of library, the walls of which were covered with bookshelves and cupboards, and which was lighted by a skylight. A pan of eggs was boiling on a char- coal stove in the corner, and a loaf and cheese stood on the table. The abbe sat down and looked round. " Nothing seems changed," said he. " It must be ten years since I was here last." " Possibly," replied tne curd, in a tone which suggested that time did not exist. " Your work goes on as usual ? " " As usual." " Any results ? " " Some. Not expected ones." " Am I interrupting any process ? " " Not at the moment. In half an hour I must attend to some preparations." The cure put the eggs on the table, and motioned to his guest to fall to. Gaultier addressed himself to the modest meal, and ate with an admirable appetite. The curd took nothing, explaining that he had already dined, and waited till his guest had finished. He then led the way through a narrow door, between two crowded bookshelves, and ushered the abbd into a long, low room fitted out as a chemist's laboratory, furnished with a furnace and chimney, and lighted, like the other, by a skylight. Evidently the cure had an objection to people who peer through windows. "You will wonder what brings me here," said Gaultier, seating himself in an ancient arm-chair which stood in a corner. "An old fr'end is always welcome," replied the curd, examining a test-tube very intently. " We have not seen much of each other of late," went on the abbd, gazing curiously into the recesses of the half-lighted apartment. as you say. " You have not yet discovered the philosopher's stone, my friend ? «S4 ii liv H 'Rent Squire " Not yet." "You still keep up your researches ?" " For certain things — yes." •' Hampered a good deal, as of old, by a light purse. I presume?" o i w, * "Of course. Latterly I have managed somewhat better 1 can sell some of my medicinal preparations in Paris A niece of mme, a widow, has a herbalist's shop in the Rue Beauregard— Mane Latour— you saw her here before she married." " I know her very well. She doe.: quite a big trade with certam ladies of my acquaintance." "I believe so. But my experiments are all more or less costly, and swallow everything." " If such is the case— what the mischief is that ? " The abb^ jumped up hastily as a confused scratching sound was heard behmd him. ^ "Only my rabbits," explained the cure, pointing to a set of hutches on shelves, which Gaultier had not noticed in the obscurity. »^?^\^.°y°" ^""^"^'^ *° ^^^P rabbits?" asked the abb^ 1 he whole country is swarming with them." "They are useful to take my medicines. I am obliged to keep them out of sight here, as you may suppose " " I do not quite see why." " Sonie of my preparations do not agree with them. It would discourage my customers if they had the opportunity of noticing that." ff j u D ^"^t'u' ^^^^ ^^ reasonable," said the ahh6 meditatively. Hut I have some news for you, which you may find better worth your attention than giving rabbits preparations which do not agree with them." " I am at your service," replied the curd. "First of all," said Gaultier, « I s-e they are cutting the timber in the wood. Whose is it ? " "Everything hereabouts belongs to the comte de St. Pol Ihere has been a twenty years' law-suit about the wood or the comte would have cleared it away before. His bailiff was here yesterday and to-day, making a start." " To be sure— he slept at Pont St. Michel. They have begun at the roadside." ^ " Naturally. ^ - 1 "«^ njv:i i\ji ail UUUa while some of my preparations were brewine " "How?" ^' uijo inornmg, ^ J B ftent Squire «S5 " Guiding the trunks with a rope, so that they should not block the road in falling." The abb^ seemed lost in gratified surprise. " That is curious," said he. " Do you think, my dear Germont, you could do just the reverse — if you tried ? " •' In what way ? " " Sup^-^sing — mark, I only say supposing— you and I took an axe ; ■ i a rope — probably you have both ? " " Yes." " Supposing you and I took an axe and a rope, do you see any difficulty about our felling one of those trees so that it should fall across the road ? " " None. But why ? " " Good ! so far. You said you were alone ?" " Gilles has gone to Grandpr^, two miles off, to assist at the wedding-supper of his sister." " I met him." *' He will not return till the morning." " What neighbours have you ? " "There is a shepherd's cottage half-way to Grandpr^. Nothing nearer." " Good again," said the abb^, " I should like to look over the stables. I did not take much notice just now." The cur^ opened a double door at the end of his laboratory. It led into the stable-yard of the house, and he went out with Gaultier. The stables had stalls for a couple of dozen horses, a relic of long-past days of prosperity for the manor-house. Adjoining was a stone outhouse, divided into a coach-house and a shed by a massive oaken partition, each section having an equally massive oaken door opening outwards. The partition itself had a door between the coach-house and the shed. An old waggon stood in the yard, so close to the door of the shed that the latter could not be opened more than a couple of mches. This building was of one storey only, but the stables had a loft over them, reached by a ladder through a trap- door. On a shelf inside the shed stood a row of copper cans and a couple of kegs, from which emanated a certain pungent odour. In the middle of the yard was a well, surrounded by a low, moss-grown v/all, and covered with a rotting wooden lid. Near it lay a couple of planks, between which tall tufts of grass had grown undisturbed. The abb^ observed all these details with minute care. 56 a Ikent J5qu(rc li^i. I3t ■■ \Vhere is your well-bucket and rope? " he asked. We dent use that well now. I^ gave out years aeo. f-.r some reason or other-probably a landslip, 'j'here is anoti.er in the orchard at the other side of the 'house which never fails us.' "Thi orchard with that bottomless pit of a carp-pond in the far corner ? ' ^ ^ "Ah! you recollect the carp pond . i', the carp have all been poached, unfortunately, or I would have -iven you a fine supper." •' The abb^ looked at the shelf. " What have you in your cans and kc-s ? " he asked, rurpentine and rape-oil. That is part of my stock-in- trade. 1 distil the turpentine and crush the rape-seed in mv laboratory, and sell the oils to the farmers. Thai has the two- fold advantage of doubling my income and o( accounting for my apparatus in an orthodox manner. Otherwise I should probably have been denounced to the 'chainbrt ardente ' before this. The ' affaire Voysin ' is still recollected here- abouts." Of the 'chambre ardente' and the celebrated trial of La Voysin we shall have occasion to speak later. " Have you any cider to spare ? " ** Certainly. Our apples have always done well." " And the poppies ? " The cur^ looked sharply at his guest. Gaultier lauglied ^ My dear Germont, I am sure you do not neglect to IPC nide laudanum amongst the things you ask your rabbits to ojge.sf . IJut perhaps you are sold out ? " •" -Naturally I have laudanum," replied the cur^, in a tone sviiicii implied nothing. (b.ultier took a final glance round, and turned back towards the house. 1 1' 1^1? "°^ recollect having tried to fell a tree since I was a ad a Beauval," said he. " H..w long does it take two men to cut through such trunks as I saw over there ? " "Say an hour," replied the curd, as they re-entered the laboratory. The abbd looked at his watch. "Plenty of time," he remarked. "Your man was dres.sed m his best when I saw him. What has he done with his working-clothes ? " " Probably they are in his attic." " You can show me the attic ? " B ftent Squire »S7 "Of course." The abbd rubbed his chin softly. " My dear friend," he said, tfter a pause, "will you do me, for your and my joint benefit t e favours ? " " \v hit arc they?" " First, will you continue y r recreation of this mor ing, and help mo to cut down one more tree for the bailiff of M. de St. I'ol ? Secondly, will you immediately aft rwards have an urgent call to a dying parishioner at about two leagues distance, who will keep you all night ? " The curd looked meditativi 'y at G ' Uier. " Is it permittc .eness about that." "Without doubt. 1 i. there is no vagueness about eight heavy chests in a waggon, landed from a ship at Calais, and an escort of six troopers and an officer, bound for Paris." The curd did not reply for a minute or two. " My curiosity has evaporated," he said finally. " Very good. As to M. de St. Pol's tree ? " " That can be managed." " And your dying parishioner ? " " I know one ill enough for the purpose. But who is to bring the false summons ? " " I, of course." " Whom I have never seen before ?" " Preci-sely." CHAPTER XXI THE ADliE GAULTIER MAKES HIMSELF (iENERALLY USEFUL While the ubd was renewing his acquaintance with the stable-yard of the presbytery of Ste. Morie Geneste, the waggon under Gwynett's charge was being laboriously dragged along the road towards the wood of Serras. The party passed the crossing of the lanes just as the sun was setting. A MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI end ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 1.4 1.6 A APPLIED ItvHGE Inc 165.1 East Main Street Rochester, New York 14609 (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288- 5989 - Fax USA m 158 a Ikent SQuire 1 1, ' i || il;- couple of hundred yards farther on a man stood at ,h. "ATth^rrol^^^^^^^^^^ A curve in the road revealed a hiitr^ fi.. fr«^ ki 1 ■ thoroughfare, with a «.ass of bmncheslwen ^fee °hS* an'd reachmg a score of yards on either side imo the thck^t suS7n"hl"'"'=' '" ""^ ""^- -^ "•' -Vcamelo a " What does this mean, my man ? " he ask <^ r^f tu^ who stood near, admiring the troopers' horses *' ""''"'' Monsieur, it is the comte dp Sf Pni «,k^ u to cut down sime of the timber » ^"^ ^'' ^•"'" ^"-^^--^ p^fiSicrsrck^^-fs^of^;^^^^^^^^^^ a whSmy'!"' " " ™'' ™' ~""^ P'^'' » *^ - passes ihat does not prevent our wantincr tn nacc *i,- t:r..i;^?^ -' '-^ .hroughCL^d tSis*pUi^ ''None, monsieur." noj!^''^ ^° 'hose cross-lanes lead that we passed just alrSfy qi^aiLeT '"' ""^"^ """ ^^'^"^ *= -d" is of Soii^f " ^' '"^ f^"- '-^' -d '-ned to the corporal "We must bivouac here," he said "Tf ic f^^ i . aSsi^tXiriSo^iS'ilii?; ram has stopped." "''^Sgon. it is lucky the acWle'dTr„t o'The o^" "' '"' '°'P-' -""«i '« •* At sik. AIaijik Uicnksti ■ I'aiji' /.",'/. It: I. M m I? ■ ; \ a Ikent Squire '59 'Pardon, M. I'officier," said he, -it is going to be a wet night, for all that. If you like to take your party to the stables of M. le cure over yonder, you will have, at all events, a roof over your heads. There is room there for twice as many." " You are sure of that ? " " Monsieur can easily satisfy himself" Gwynett turned to the corporal. " it is worth while finding out," he said. " I will go myself and see." ^ He returned to the cross-ways, and rode up the lane towards the presbytery. At the gate he was met by the cure, who wore h:s hat and cloak, and was evidently on the point of leaving home. Gwynett raised his hat. • M. le cur6 of Ste. Marie Geneste ? " he asked. The curd returned the salute. "The same, monsieur," said he. "Can I do anything for you ? " J b " I find, monsieur, that the way to Amiens is stopped by a fallen tree just past the cross-road^ Can you conveniently allow my men and horses the shelter of your stables or out- houses during the night ? We are upon hij majesty's service " " Assuredly, monsieur. I only regret that I cannot offer you any further hospitahty. But, unfortunately, I am at this moment on the point of going away for the night to a distant parishioner, and I have had to shut up the house, as I am alone at present." " We should not think of trespassing so far on your good- ness, monsieur. All we want is a roof over us till morning." "You are very welcome, monsieur. If you will follow me I will show you • 'hat accommodation there is." ' Gwynett dismounted, and walked with the curd into the yard. "You will find the stables and the coach-house dry I think," said the cure. "Over the stables, as you see, there IS a good loft, with plenty of straw. Water you will get from the other well, in the orchard there— this one has been out of use for years. There is plenty of firewood in the outhouses. Have you any food ? " " We are amply provisioned, I thank you. You will permit me to recoup you for our horses' fodder and any fuel we may use ? ' ' The cure waved his hand in dissent. " By no means, monsieur. What is here belongs first to my poor, and secondly to his majesty." i6o a ment Squire f i ■ 1 " 11 i\? I'l;. ■hjl "Let me, then, leave something with you for the ooor of Sfr.'f't.rcur'" -'"' °-^-"' -""■■"« -°^p" or of any further service, I will ask you to excuse me as the night IS closmg in." ' ^"^ "Nothing I thank you. Should we have left in the IToTpSy^' '°"' '''"'"' ''''P' °"^ ^^^"ks for you? "I regret that that means so very little, monsieur." The cur^ bowed and walked off. Gwynett went back to h.s troop, and ordered them up to the house. The waggon was drawn mto the middle of the yard, and the corS asked Gwynett for further orders. corporal " If we are to mount guard over it, M. le capitaine." he said pomtmg to the coach-house, "why not do it under cover "' Gwynett ooked at the sky and then at the coach-house the door of which had just been opened by the peasant ' shalSereVht.''"''- "^"^ ^ ^^^ ^'^ - turn in. I " h,^^J^?l' '''°" capitaine," said the corporal apologetically, Pe'ople' m^srslTpT^^' ^"^^' ''''' "■^^^- ^^^'^^ ^'^ '^^'^' Gwynett laughed, and clapped the corporal on the shoulder You see, corporal," said he, "if you were on euard and happened to take a little nap while someone-saylur friend n the blouse there-walked away with a chest under each arm your apologies would not console me at all. On the one hand, I should have to have you hung, which I should regret and on the other hand, when ycu were hung I shouKil be a couple of boxes short." As the peasant had by no means the air of a Hercules, the corporal thought the idea of his eloping with the contents of the waggon a very good joke. He repeated theToke to the subject of It as soon as Gwynett's back was turned The peasant grinned solemnly. c»^ turnea. ine "AH the better for you, mon officier," said he looking round mysteriously, and then putting his mouth to the oS "Why?" "There is a little barrel of cider in the loft." r^nlied the peasant, in a confidential tone. . ' -x»iea tne " Ah ! M. le curb's ? " •> i a Ikcnt Squire i6i I 6 'No— it belongs to my cousin Gilles, the curb's other servant. He has gone to a wedding-supper. We'll drink the bride's health, if you don't mind." " That would be only politeness," said the corporal affably. " But we must wait till the captain has settled everything for the night." " What do you call your captain ? " asked the peasant. " M. Ambrose Gwynett," replied the corporal. The peasant started. "That sounds like a foreign name," ^' ;aid, after a pause. " They say he is English. But M. le governeur treats him like a brother."' " Who is that ? " asked the peasant, with a stupid air. " M. Daguerre, the governor of Calais, of course," replied the corporal. The peasant looked at him vacantly. II Ah ! " said he, " that is a long way from here." "You must ^e rather a stay-at-home, my friend," observed the corporal, in a patronising tone. The peasant shook his head solemnly. " I served in Flanders when I was young," he said. " But that is a good while ago." "That is better than nothing. I thought from your voice you were not such a yokel as you looked. Certainly a little time with the colours polishes a man up wonderfully But I see the captain wants me." The corporal went after Gwynett, who was going to inspect the loft over the stables, where the troopers were putting the horses. f & The peasant— who was, of course, the abbe Gaultier— looked after them with a serious air. "I must be very careful," he said to himself. " Evidently my lout s twang IS not as good as I thought. But that name —and an Englishman— it is impossible there can be two of such a name. What a wonderful stroke of luck ' Truly for once fortune favours the deserving." " The abbe went oyer to the coach-house and looked at the waggon which had been backed into it. Then he was visited by a sudden idea He took a spade and bucket from among a heap of tools which lay at the hank of th« '•o-ch hou- 3 went hurriedly to the cure's pig-sty round the "comer Tn The orchard. He returned with a bucket full of manure, cast a glance around to see that no one was in sight, and quickly II l62 a Iftent Squire I '" |i ! distributed the contents of the bucket under the waggon and over the floor of the coach-house. He then went into the shed adjoining, throup^ the door in the partition. The floor of the shed was covered a foot deep with ling or litter of cut heather. The abbe took down one of the turpentine-cans from the shelf, sprinkled a couple of quarts over the litter in all directions, and restored the can to its place just as he heard the voice of Gwynett approaching the shed with the corporal. The abb^ took care to be dis- covered in the coach-house as the others entered. Gwynett looked round and turned to the corporal. " Let me have a couple of bundles of straw in that corner, ' he said, " and then you and the others can turn in." " Very good, M. le capitaine." The corporal went off". Gwynett advanced a few steps into the coach-house and snifi'ed. His nose began to recognise something rather unendurable in the atmosphere. "What a disgusting stench!" he said to the disguised peasant. The abb^ looked at him with an air of surprise. " Does monsieur find it disagreeable ? " he said. " One could cut it with a knife," grumbled Gwynett, going towards the door into the shed. The abbd followed him respectfully. " You see, mon officier," said he, " M. le curd keeps his turpentine in this shed, and that really has a very bad odour." "Tastes diff"er, my good fellow. I don't object to this at all. No one with an English nose could survive a night of that other bouquet. I shall lie down here." A light flashed from the eyes of the abbe. " Can I bring monsieur anything to drink ? ' he asked. " I think there is some cider in the stables." Gwynett produced some bread and cheese out of his wallet. " I will trouble you to show me the well," said he. The a.hh6 pressed his lips together as he preceded Gwynett to the gate leading into the orchard. " Very good, my dear M. Ambrose Gwynett, of Thornhaugh," he said to himself. " That settles matters. You have had your chance. If you will not suit my convenience by sleeping till moining, you must sleep for ever. So njuch the worse for you." Arrived at the well, he said, " Shall I draw for monsieur ? " ,4 a Ikcnt Squire 163 ggon and e door in foot deep down one couple of i the can preaching to be dis- it corner, ' steps into recognise disguised ett, going keeps his very bad :t to this e a night iked. " I is wallet. i Gwynett rnhaugh," have had y sleeping he worse " I can do that. Just tell the corporal not to trouble about the straw — I shall lie on the heather." "With pleasure, monsieur." Returning hastily, the abbd met the corporal, who had already thrown the straw down behind the waggon, and was on his way to the stables. Gaultier rushed into the shed. In a few seconds he had emptied the remaining cans of turpentine over the heather, and had just replaced them on the shelf when Gwynett returned. " Pardon, mon officier," said the abb^, " I usually sleep in this coach-house when M. le cur^ is from home. He prefers to lock the house up. If monsieur has any objection, I will go to the stables." " Do as you please," replied Gwynett, going into the shed. " Does monsieur find smoking annoy him ? " " Not at all." " I will see if the horses are all right, and wish monsieur good-night. Ah, dame / I have dropped my pipe." The abbe stooped, and his hand travelled close to the ground for a couple of feet round the door-post of the partition. As it did so, it was followed by a thin line of black powder, which ended in the coach-house. The abbe rose, and put something back in the front of his blouse. " Will monsieur have the door here open or shut ? " said he. '* You may as well shut it. Good night." " Good night, monsieur." Gwynett wrapped his cloak round him, chose a place where the ling made a comfortable heap near the inner wall, and sat down with his back against it. The abbe shut the door. As he did so, he withdrew the thumb-plate, which he had previously detached, and laid it on the floor. The latch, a large and heavy one, was on the outside of the partition door. As the other door was blocked by the cart, Gwynett was now a prisoner. If the absence of the thumb-plate should be discovered too soon, it ' .1, of course, fallen on the floor accidentally. Nothing could be simpler. The abbe went to the stables and mounted the ladder to the loft. Here he found the troopers inbibing the contents of a small keg of cider with discreet cheerfulness. The corporal was nodding in a corner. Gaultier sat down on a truss of hay and affected to drink with the others till the keg was empty. Ten minutes later all the troopers were lying amongst the hay, fast asleep, and snoring stertorously. The abb^ waited 164 a 1kcnt Squire d ;?! tor a quarter of an hour, and then shook his nearest neighbour roughly by the arm. The man took no notice of the effort to disturb him, and continued to sleep heavily. Gaultier made the same experiment with the others, and with the same result. Then he descended the ladder. " Now for the other," he said to nimself. He took an armful of hay, and went through the yard and orchard to a tumble-down piece of shedding amongst the trees at the edge of the wood. Here he had left his horse, ready saddled, with his valise strapped to the peak. He put the hay in a rough manger, and listened for any sounds in the surrounding fields and woods. Then he returned to the yard and listened again. Profound silence reigned, broken only by the barking of a dog at some cabin a mile or more away across the country. The abb^ went to the door between the coach-house and the shed. He thought he could distinguish a regular breath- ing, as of a man dozing or sleeping, on the other side of the partition. He produced a lantern from the corner where the farm implements lay in a heap, lit it from his tinder-box, and set it down near the door of the partition. Next he took a pitch-fork and laid it by the lantern, filled and lit his pipe, and listened again. Then he carefully put his pipe, bowl downwards, on the ground near the door-post, took up the pitch-fork, and waited. A flash ran under the door, a hissing sound followed, and in an instant the shed was filled with a roaring sheet of flame. The abbe leaned forwaid, grasping the pitch-fork, with his eyes dilated and his teeth set. He heard a stifled exclamation, a sound as of some desperate struggle, and then a terrible cry. Silence followed. Volumes of smoke poured out through the chinks of the door, and the abb^ had to step back to avoid being suffocated. The outer door had apparently not caught fire, but the thinner wood of the top of the partition began to show red streaks. Several minutes passed, during which no sound came from the shed except the roar of the flames and the hiss and crackle of the burning heather. The abbe opened wide the door of the coach-house, which was filled with smoke, and stood in the yard. The outer door of the shed, behind the cart, showed dazzling gleams of light between the ill-fitting I'iiibtrs. H f ^"^ Gwynett began to ascend. When his head and shoulders came in view the corporal started back. '^ " Milk tonnerres ! " he ejaculated. " What is this ? " Gwynett's head, face, and shoulders were covered with soot and ashes, and his features were scarcely distinguishable rhe skm did not appear to have been burnt, but some of his hair was frizzled up close to the scalp. He used his right arm m mounting the ladder, and the left hung down uselessly in Its sleeve. ' "Clear these splinters out of my way first, corporal," said he, "and stare at me afterwards." The corporal and Gilles extricated Gwynett from the hole in the planking, which fitted him pretty closely, and assisted him to his feet. " Come out into the air, monsieur," said the cur^ " You Tfr ^^Tf \ S'^'' °^ eau-de-vie. Fetch the flask from my shelf, Gilles." ' Gilles went off, and returned with the cognac as Gwynett was seating himself on the shaft of the cart. The cure drew the stopper, and handed the flask to Gwynett. "It is my own distilling," said he, as Gwynett took a pull. I permit myself to recommend it as of the first quality." "You are perfectly right, mon pbre," replied Gwynett appreciatively. ^ "You feel better, monsieur?" " I thank you, yes. My head was stupid with the smoke in there, I fancy. ' " And your arm, monsieur ? " Gwynett put his hand up to his left shoulder "As to that, monsieur, I don't know. This arm is of no use to me. " Permit me,'' said the cur^, passing his hand along the sleeve. It is dislocated, evidently, monsieur. May I ofier ^■■1 a Ikent Squire t know of ch was at lescended of what asked the ascend, corporal ?" Ted with ;uishable. ne of his right arm ;lessly in ral," said the hole assisted . " You rom my Gwynett jr^ drew took a the first Gwynett moke in s of no >ng the I offer 169 my services to replace it ? X am obliged to be a little of a surgeon, you know." Gwynett reflected that he was still thirty or forty hours away from Paris, and decided that an amateur practitioner was better than none. " If you will be so good, mon pere," said he. " Here or indoors, monsieur ? " " I prefer the fresh air, mon pl're." The curd caused Gwynett's coat to be removed, and in- structed the corporal how to assist him. In a few minutes he had reset the displaced joint with a good deal of dexterity and a minimum of pain to the patient. Then he sent Gilles to fetch materials for a bandage, and a basin of water wherewith to remove the dirt and soot from Gwynett's face and hands. " While I bandage your shoulder, monsieur," said he, " you can perhaps explain what has happened. I presume the ling caught fire in some way ? " "Yes. But I don't know how. I as sitting with my eyes closed, leaning against the wall, when suddenly the whole place burst into a sheet of flame." "Perhaps it was your pipe, mon officier," observed the corporal, presenting one v, ;h he had just picked up amongst the ashes. " I was not smoking, and that is not my pipe." •'Monsieur was alone?" asked the curd, with a shade of curiosity in his tone. "Your man was in the coach-house. He said he usually slept there." ^ "I have already mentioned to the corporal, monsieur, that the man you speak of is not a servant of mine. He is not known to me." Gwynett stared at the curd. " Not a servant of yours ? " " Not at all, monsieur." " I am M. le curd's servant," observed Gilles, with dignity. "He had the story very pat," observed Gwynett. '^" What did It all mean ? " " We know nothing of the man, except that he brought a message to me last evening from a distant parishioner just before I saw you. From what has happened, this message seems to have been intended to get me out of the way for the night." ' " Had he any companions ? " 1 '!« " ^ y 1 r i- *' 1 %< r t, « * 170 H Iftent Squire " We have seen no one, monsieur." " If it was not your pipe, mon capitaine," said the corporal, " that scoundrel must have set the place on fire himself." '« But why ? " ■ To steal the waggon, mon capitaine, after you were disposed of." And the corporal pointed to the empty coach- house. Gwynett bounded up. " What ! " he cried. " The waggon gone ? " " Decidedly, mon capitaine. We have only just discovered it." ^ Gwynett stared at the coach-house with a bewildered air. " Are the waggon-horses gone, too ? " he asked. "Yes, monsieur." " Did you hear nothing of all this in the night ? " " Nothing, monsieur. We were all sound asleep — in fact " and the corporal hesitated. " Go on." " Well, mon capitaine, I may as well confess it, that peasant gave us a keg of cider, and he must have hocussed it, for we slept like logs till a few minutes ago. Otherwise we should certainly have been awakened by the noise of the waggon and horses going off." " Are our own horses gone, too ? " " Fortunately not, monsieur." " Saddle at once." The corporal and his men ran off to the stables. Gwynett examined the ground in front of the shed, and turned to the curd. " Have you any explanation to suggest of this affair, M. le cure? It seems to have been carefully planned." The cure shook his head. " We have no thieves hereabouts," said he. " This is too audacious for rustics. I think you must have been followed from a distance by some clever fellows who know the country." " It seems so. I am sorry that you are a sufferer as well as ourselves. But I will endeavour to secure you compensation for the damage done to your shed." *' That is not much of an affair. I have rather to congratu- late you, monsieur, on coming no worse off. How did you escape the flames ? " "It was quite simple, monsieur. When I found the ling was on fire, I jumped up and began to push and kick it away, so as to clear the place where I was standing, close to the back i I corporal, elf." you were pty coach- iiscovered ed air. fact " at peasant it, for we ve should iggon and Gwynett led to the fair, M. le his is too 1 followed country." as well as pensation congratu- ' did you 1 the ling : it away, the back a Ikent Squire 171 wall. At that moment the floor suddenly gave way under me and I fell through." " I am r'"raid the planks were rotten." "Ve,y , :;kily for me, it seems. However, in falling i struck m ;;ead against the wall, and recollect nothing more till I heard noises a few minutes ago. Then I came to myself, and shouted from the bottom of the hole." " It is an old saw-pit, monsieur, which I planked over some years back, when we ceased to have any use for it. I did not think of mentioning it to you, not suspecting that the floor was insecure. But vtrhere is your cloak ? " " I saw a heap of black rags close to the hole. I am afraid that is my cloak. Probably I can get another at Amiens." At this moment the corporal came back. " Are we to fall in, mon capitaine ? " said he. Gwynett turned to Gilles. " Did it rain in the night ? " he asked. "There was a shower about the time the moon set monsieur," replied Gilles. " That was all." ' " The moon sets at four," observed the cur^. Gwynett followed the trace of the waggon-wheels as they left the yard by way of the orchard. " Does this lead anywhere, M. le cur^ ? " he asked. " There is a bridle-path across the common in the direction of Arras. The cart-road, as you see, stops at this farm, and we are shut in all round by the wood." Gwynett stooped down to examine the ruts made by the waggon-wheels. " That brigand has had four hours' start of us," he said to the corporal. "You see the rain has fallen on the tracks. Mount your men, and bring my horse. You and I will follow the track of the waggon, and the others must keep behmd. ^ " Perm.it me to accompany you as far as the edge of the copse," said the curd, as the corporal executed Gwynett's orders. " It would not be easy to drag a waggon through that underwood. But your men would, of course, have over- taken It easily enough had it been removed by way of the road." ^ Gwynett made no reply, but cast a last glance, dictated by some indefinable suspicion, round the yard. No inspiration resulting therefrom, he gave the order to proceed, and the party left the yard. Gwynett and the corporal followed the traces of the waggon on foot, their horses being led by ! ! i 172 a Ikent Squlve the troopers behind, while the cur^ and Gilles took their own course across the orchard. Gwynett's head, rather dazed by the experiences of the night, was getting clearer, and he began to be furious with himself at the disaster to the expedition. "It appears to me, friend Ambrose," he reflected, " that nothing will teach you not to be an ass. It was no business of yours to do little jobs for madame des Ursins, and you might have gone to the bottom for your pains. Now vou interfere to prevent M. Daguerre getting out of his messes his own way, and the first clodhopper in the road makes you ridiculous. The worst kind of fool is an obliging fool. In tuture, my dear fellow, learn to be a fool pure and simple " * f p ' CHAPTER XXIII A GAME OF HIDE-AND-SEEK The direction taken by the wheel-tracks of the waggon was towards the thick copse which separated the presbytery farm and orchard from the common beyond. The ruts ran close to the carp-pond before mentioned. As Gvvynett and the corpora], following the tracks on foot, reached this spot, they noticed a series of deep grooves leading from the waggon-ruts to the edge of the water. The corporal smiled sagaciously. Pardon, mon capitaine," said he, "but it looks as if we should find the cases in this pond." Gwynett looked at the pond, the bottom of which could not be distinguished, and deliberated for a few seconds " It is so childish," he thought to himself, " that a very clever fellow might trust to our deciding it to be childish We must not let any chance pass." He turned to the corporal and remarked, " Send a man back for that long pole I saw ir^ the coach- house. While the trooper went off, the cur^ came forward. " I am afraid you will find this pond troublesome," he said It goes by the name of the bottomless pit hereabouts, which of course, is nonsense. But it is certainly verv deen " ' rT!..».n 13 ini. SiccpCbL blue, mon perei*" " Probably just opposite." Gwynett ordered the troopers to keep away from the pond, a Tkcnt Squire 173 took their ces of the arious with ted, "that o business i, and you Now you liis messes makes you ; fool. In imple." aggon was ytery farm ran close and the spot, they iggon-ruts iously. 5 as if we ich could Is. It a very childish. le coach- ' he said, s, which, he pond, so that no confusion should arise from fresh footmarks mmgling with the old. Then he made the round of the edge, scrutmising the ground as he did so, for a distance of twelve or fifteen feet outwards. He arrived back at the starting-point just as the trooper returned wii.i the pole. Taking it from him, he poked about in every direction as far as he could reach. At that side the bottom sloped down at such an angle that the water deepened a foot for each two feet of distance. Nothmg could be felt except the tough clay of the bed and masses of weed. Gwynett then ordered one of the troopers to ride in care- fully, sounding with the pole, and to feel with it for anything solid. This was done to a distance of four or five yards without result. ' "It the other side is much deeper, mon capitaine," said the corporal, in an aside to Gwynett, " they would throw the cases in as far as they could." " Have you happened to lift one of those cases, corporal ? " " Yes— that is, two of us did." " How far could the two of you swing one, if you tried ? A yard and a half.?" asked Gwynett. do"b^f°V""^^ more, if so much," replied the corporal *' Could four of you swing it any farther ? " 1'^ Very Httle— the cases are awkward to get hold of." " Then why have we not touched one with the pole ? " ^" Perhaps they carried them right in." "If you waded in with one, it seems to me you would sink up to the waist." " It is possible they carried them round to the other side." observed the corporal perseveringly. " It would have been easier to drive the waggon to that side m the first mstance." " Perhaps they hauled them in with our long rope " JfLT "? X°°*'''^''^'' ^'^^^' o^ "^^" or horses, anywhere but heie. If the cases are m this pond, why take the waggon fardier ? You see, the track goes to the wood." ^^ lo put us off the scent," explained the corporal, with a Wise ciir« exhausted"'^ '^^^'" ''^'^'''^^ Owynett, who found the subject The corporal smiled with satisfaction "That is about what the thief expected," thought Gwynett. He played for the gallery. We are no nearer than we were : 1 1 ■/ J i l) ■i * p' 174 a Ikcnt Squire m before. Then he said to the corporal, " In any case, if the boxes are m this pond, they won't float away, and we must try and recover the waggon. Let us go on." " Should we not put a sentry over the pond, mon capitaine ?" "The waggoner will do for that." The party movv i on, Gwynett and the corporal still following the ruts on foot, a >d the troopers bringing up the rear The track came up to the edge of the wood. " I am curious to see how the waggon was driven throuph the copse," said the curd to Gwynett. "A little farther on the path scarcely allows two persons to pass abreast, much less a waggon." Arrived at the spot indicated by the curd, the waggon was found to have been driven by main force through a belt of underwood. This was attested by Gilles, who said he had passed along the narrow pathway only the previous evening at which time the thick copse was untouched. Moreover the waggon did not follow the path, which was here a perfect quagmire, but reached the copse over some more solid ground adjacent. Gwynett halted the troopers, and went forward with the corporal to examine the pathway. 1^ What do you make of this, corporal ? " said he. " It is incredible, monsieur," replied the corporal. " Think of driving a team of horses through a wall of bushes like this ! " " How many yards of rope had we in the waggon ? " " More than thirty, monsieur." "That accounts for it." "How, monsieur?" Gwynett pointed to the mud in the pathway. " What do you see there ? " he asked. " Hoof-marks, mon capitaine, evidently— a crowd of them " " Why ? The waggon-ruts are not that way." A light began to dawn upon the corporal. "They took ^he horses round by the path," he said trium- phantly, "and then pulled the waggon through the bushes by the rope. These people are no fools." " I have been thinking the same," said Gwynett. " Forward again." The curd here approached to take his leave. " I think you are fairly off my ground now, monsieur," said he. I am alraid 1 cannot assist you further, so I will say good day, wishing you every success. If Gilles can be of any use to you, take him, by all means." ' it I case, if the id we must capitaine ? " ill following rear. The en through farther on east, much vaggon was 1 a belt of id he had IS evening, reover, the ■ a perfect •lid ground i with the "Think like this ! " ?" of them." aid trium- bushes by " Forward ieur." said I will say be of any "» -!< a Iftent Squire 175 The corporal, who thought that Gilles might have an accurate knowledge of any drinking-places in the backwoods ventured to recommend Gwynett to accept the curb's offer. ' " He may be able to tell us of some short cuts, monsieur " said he, " and how to keep clear of quagmires." ' "That is true. I thank you, mon phre, and will send him back whenever he chooses. Adieu, for the present." The escort moved on, and shortly afterwards emerged upon the common. The ground fell away from the wood, and a considerable stretch of moor lay before the party. Nothing could be seen of the waggon or horses. From this point Gwynett placed the troopers at wide distances from each other to the right and left, to advance as scouts, while he and the corporal followed the waggon-tracks on foot. Gilles led their two horses. In some places the waggon had travelled over close turf, tough and elastic, leaving httle trace behind ; in others, the ruts were deeply marked in wet sand or levels of stiff mud. After half an hour's journey Gilles pointed to a slight rise in the ground just in front of them. "We are quite close to the road to Arras, monsieur. It crosses the common in a hollow over there." This proved to be correct. In a couple of minutes the road came into view. The wheel-tracks led to it. and after entering were lost. The surface hereabouts was mainly of loose pebbles and gravel, and the so-called road had more the appearance of the bed of a stream than anything else. If any slight traces of the wheels had been left, some recent local showers had effaced them. There were no indications that the waggon had crossed the road and entered upon the common on the other side. To seek further traces, Gwynett set off to walk along the road in one direction, while the corporal took the other. At this moment the nearest trooper appeared on a rid^e to the left, shouting and pointing to a spot in front of him. Gwynett hastened to the ridge, and found himself over a little hollow close to the road, but out of sight therefrom. In It was the waggon minus the horses. He ran forward and mounted the wheel to look inside. The cases were gone, and there was nothing in the waggon but the coil of rope before mentioned. ^ The troopers and the corporal came up, and looked with some curiosity at their leader, to see how this fresh disaster would be received. Gwynett's face, however, expressed 1l ' f IJ '' 176 a Ikcnt Squire nothing whatever. He ' -Id the troopers to leave the waggon, and scout for the miss. , horses. Then he examined the surface of the soil, and tne space— some sixty or eighty feet —between the hollow and the road. He found the traces of the waggon having been driven to its present position from the road, but no mdications of any other vehicle or horses. In a few minutes a trooper rode up with a couple of the waggon-horses, which he had found in one of the numerous hollows on the adjacent moor, nibbling at the scanty pasture therem. Five others were discovered immediately afterwards All these carried their harness, which had been simply un- hooked from the shafts. The eighth horse could not be found The recovery of the animals seemed to Gwynett to have a certam meaning. He turned to the corporal and asked, as an off chance, " What is your opinion of this, corporal ? " "Evidently I was wrong about the pond, mon capitaine » confessed the corporal candidly. " It is quite clear that was a bhnd, and the cases were brought here to meet some con- federates with another vehicle. But we ought to catch them —they cannot have got very far yet with that load, even on the road." " True. But as to our waggon-horses, corporal— what is the matter witn them ? " " The matter, mon capitaine?" " Yes. It seems they are not worth stealing." The corporal looked puzzled. **No doubt the brigands had their own team," he said finally, "and did not want to be troubled." " You are probably right," said Gwynett, deciding that the corporal was perfectly hopeless. " But now divide your men and send them to the right and left along the road for ten miles as fast as they can go. If either party comes to a cross- road, detach a man to explore it, and rejoin the others if he finds nothmg. Any discovery to be reported to me here after the ten miles have been covered." ' " But shall we find you here, mon capitaine, if you have found anything in the meantime?" "If I go, I will mark the direction— right, left, or back to the farm— on this broad stone. If you are in any doubt go back to the farm. Now you had better be off. Use your eves as you go along." ' The corporal despatched three of his men to the rit^ht and galloped off himself with two others to the left. Gwynett 1 !48 1 I I he waggon, amined the eighty feet 16 traces of sition from horses, jple of the numerous nty pasture afterwards, simply un- t be found. ;tt to have 1 asked, as capitaine," that was a some con- atch them ven on the vhat is the " he said f that the 'our men, d for ten o a cross- lers if he lere, after you have ' back to doubt, go f'our eyes le right, Gwynett a Ikent Squire 177 ordered Gilles to put the team of seven horses to the waggon, and to drive it back along its former track. On arriving at the first place on the moor where any very distinct ruts had been made on the first journey, Gwynett, who was leading his own horse by the bridle, caused Gilles to draw the waggon so that its wheels made ruts close alongside the old ones. Then he knelt down, and examined both of them minutely. When he rose, his face had a very satisfied air. *' Exactly," he said to himself. " Now if it is the same else- where, we are all right." He went back to the stone he had shown the corporal, made a mark to indicate the direction of the presbytery, and returned to the waggon. As they proceeded, he repeated the former process of comparison at every suitable opportunity between the road and the copse. The waggon was being dragged with some difficulty through the crushed bushes when the corporal rode up with his troopers and saluted. " Well, corporal ? " said Gwynett. "We have seen nothing, mon capitaine," replied the corporal, with a long face—" that is, except the missing horse, which we have here. There were no cross-roads, no houses, and no trees. The rascals must have divided the load, and got away quicker than we reckoned on." As all this was precisely what Gwynett had expected, he did not disturb himself about the corporal's bootless errand "Put the horse with the rest of the team," he said, "and keep the men behind. I shall want to consult you in a few minutes." The waggon was dragged through the copse close to its former route, and at every available point Gwynett carefully compared the old and the new ruts as they ran side by side On passing the side of the pond, this examination was repeated with still greater minuteness, much to the bewilderment of the corporal. Gwynett took him to the point where the waggon had apparently stopped in its former journey close to the edge of the water. "Look, corporal," said he, "at these yard to the pond, and from the pond u ., last track back again alongside the old one." " I see them, mon capitaine." 1^' Do you notice any difference between them ? " In what way does monsieur mean ? " ^Jn^^Il: ^o^,^^"st''^"ce do the ruts of the old track sink any deeper than those of the new one ? " tracks— one from the to the wood, and our hi ', if: i f I : iJ 178 a Ikcnt Squire M ri ! ; The corporal knelt down in several places, and came back to Gwynett. " I see no difference, mon capitaine." " Nor do I. Doesn't that strike you as curious ? " The corporal looked blank, and made no reply. Gwynett ordered the waggon to be driven back to the farm-yard. " Corporal," said he, as they brought up the rear, '* do those cases weigh nothing at all ? " " I don't understand, monsieur." " If the waggon was full when it crossed the moor, and empty when it came back, why should the ruts be everywhere the same depth? Does the weight of the cases make no difference in the load ? " The corporal's mouth opened mechanically. " But in that case, mon capitaine " " Well ? " "The cases have never left the yard." Gwynett clapped the corporal on the shoulder with a laugh I won't swear to that," said he. " But it seems to me you have made a very good guess. I have noticed that you have brilliant ideas, corporal." The corporal swelled with gratified surprise. "There is no doubt we have hit upon it," mon capitaine " said he. " But, after all, where are the cases ? " ' " That is another affair," replied Gwynett. "Then why did they take the waggon over the moor ? " "You explained that before, corporal— to put us off the scent." "Of course— I forgot that. The rascals have put us to a good deal of trouble with their tricks." "Why do you say 'rascals'? Do you think there was a party ? " "Certainly, mon capitaine." " One man can drive or lead a team of horses, I suppose ? " No doubt, monsieur." " What else has been done, so far ? " "Monsieur is quite right. May I ask if monsieur supposed so before ? ' ^^ "Something of the sort." " When we found the waggon ? " " No— when we found the horses." " How was that, mon capitaine ? " " Well, corporal, I said to myseh— just as you would have done— these horses are well worth stealing, why have they d came back ?" ly. Gwynett -yard. r, " do those ; moor, and ! everywhere ies make no ith a laugh, s to me you lat you have I capitaine," iioor ? " us off the put us to a there was a suppose ? " IT supposed I 1 vould have have they m mcnt Squire ,79 not been stolen? Because eight horses and (say) eight men are nothing out of the way; but eight horses and one man r .ke people look tw.ce.' And you would have argued-no a.ubt you did argue-that if the horses were Ml, it was hors'e 'already'" "^'^ °"'^ °"' '"'" '°"'^''"^^' ^"^ ^' ^ad a " A horse already, mon capitaine ? " !! Certainly. I noticed the shoe-marks all alonu." But they did not come back ? " "You are right again-no, they did not come back It is wonderful how you grasp a thing, corporal." The party were by this time in the yard. The curd did not present himself, and Gilles reported that he haS gone Gwynett went straight to the two planks which lay near the nniVhl °"! ^T' 'T ^'■^^'"g ^et^een and over them and they seemed to have lain undisturbed for weeks. GwvS raised one carefully, and found underneath a tuft of grass7v"nL freshly flattened. He gave a sigh of relief. ^ ^'"^ That is it," he said to himself. He scrutinised the under side of each plank carefully. There Iry yourself," he said, handing him the pole The corporal sounded as Gwynett had done. poked lltut'° "' ''^ *'' '''''" ^^ -'d breathlessly, as he "Fetch the ladder, buckets, and the rooe " said Twvn^f. The troopers scattered to execute this order ^"• thi^ : "u^u-"°f ^^" y°"' corporal." proceeded Gwyn^ff "^o- ouVelf%h:t%hTferrh thetlo^ r'^?'^^^'^ wall Of the well, laid the ^^l) t^eTov^^f^^^^^^^^^ t8o I I B HaMit Squtcc \i y I" Mt' .^1 lo the sack, and slid the cases one after the other into the <"irt. All the rest was only to bamboozle us." " Precise'), mon capitaine. In fact, I have had very much I. he same idea all along- He knew we should catch him if he ttit 1 to drive off with the cases themselves." "• You are quite right, ( orporal. Now all we have to do .s to draw as much water ouf of the well as is needful, haul the cases np, and get on our way." The corporal assented, thinking to himself that it was a pleasure to serve unripr an officer so ready to appreciate acuteness in a subordii te. It is only necessary here to copy a letter from Gaultier received by the curd the evening of the same day, and the curd's reply. " My dear Germont, I am on my way to England, at the enclosed address. I met M. de Torcy outside Arras, where he had been detained a couple of days by severe cold, and he gave me despatches for immediate delivery. Everything has gone splendidly. A. G." To which the curd replied, " My dear Armand, The other evening some troopers came here to put up overnight. They pretended not to have set my shed on fire, in order to burn their captain alive, and made a pond in the stable-yard the next day by emptying the water out of the old well. You will admit this sort of thing is annoying and even dangerous. Unfortunately, I happened to be from home on both occasions. Your friend, Maxime Germont." CHAPTER XXIV AMBROSE GWYNETT SELECTS A LANDLORD GwvNETT left his convoy at the hotel of the Ministry of War in Paris, and went straight to Versailles to report the incidents of his journey to M. de Torcy. " It appears to me, my dear M. Gwynett," said -be marquis after listening to the story, " that v,'e cai '■'ardly accept your cure at Ste. Marie Geneste for the innocent babe he pretended to be." 2r into the very much b him if he lave to do ledful, haul t it was a appreciate n Gaultier y, and the address. I en detained spatches for A. G." to put up led on fire, Dond in the t of the old g and even a home on ERMONT." ry of War i incidents marquis :ept your pretended a "Rent Squire isi "It is quite impossible to say, M. I- ..rrquis. His r<}/n you by issentingly, o one has will not, I difficulties elf, I have a note to ty." id handed -I them to Gwynett, who thereupon took his leave, promising to acquaint M. de Torcy with his new address. On his return to Paris, Gwynett renovated his wardrobe, provided himself with a wig to conceal the partial loss of his own hair at the presbytery, and set out to seek a lodging. After some exploration he found an apartment to suit him in a large, old-fashioned house at the corner of the Rue des Poissoniers and the Rue d'Enfer. This, he was told, belonged to a family of the name of Dubut, who occupied the lower floor. The two floors above were unoccupied, and the upper one was empty. The second floor was roomy, light, and comfortably furnished, and had a stone staircase descending to a park-like garden of twelve acres with a fish- pond, which, even at the beginning of winter, was delightfully picturesque. The mistress of the house, with whom he negotiated the hire of the apartment, was an old woman, the widow, as he learnt, of a master turner in the Rue Beauregard. The rest of the family appeared to consist of an invalid married daughter, who was not visible, her only child, a boy just learning to walk, and a bouncing, handsome girl of thirteen or fourteen, whom Gwynett understood to be a niece of the invalid. The terms asked for the accommodation were quite within the margin Gwynett had proposed to himself. He accordingly paid for a week in advance^, entered upon possession, and made arrangements for such meals as he required. The horse he had ridden from Calais was one of M. Daguerre's, and had gone back with the escort. But he found a livery- stable hard by his lodging, where a passable animal could be hired when necessary, and this met his requirements for the moment. After making these various arrangements, he proceeded to dine at a respectable little cabaret at the end of the Rue Neuve St. Jean. The bench on which he sat, while waiting for his meal to be served, was in a corner against a partition. On the other side of this two persons were talking, apparently over their wine, and snatches of the conversation reached Gwynett's ear from time to time. His attention happened to be caught by a name let fall by one of the speakers, and he leaned his head against the wooden panel to listen. » K !' i^ "°' ^\ business, my dear Marie," a man was saying, uUt I have heard people say queer things about pere Germont, and as long as he is popping in and out of your shop in the Rue Beauregard " f 1 1 ' 184 H ment Squire It ! i i !:f "What do they say of my uncle Germont?" interrupted a woman's voice. " The lamp-maker in the Rue d'Enfer goes to Ste. Marie Geneste to buy colza now and then, and the people there tell him the pfere makes strange things in his distillery. They talk of curious coloured flames, and smoke such as one sees nowhere else, coming from his chimneys." " Bah ! " said the woman, " those yokels are always sus- picious of what they don't understand. What has all that to , do with your staying away from the Rue Beauregard ? " " Everything, my fair enchantress," replied the man, in a pompous tone. " My official position compels me to be a model of discretion, and " " It seems to me your official position means another woman " was the angry retc rt. "Your jealousy is too ridiculous to be complimentary" observed the man, with patronising banter. "Now, on the other hand, my poor dear wife " "Stuff! You have treated her as shamefully as you treat me. I say so, though I hate her." "Not the least in the world, my houri. I have the mis- fortune to be pleasing to various members of your charming sex, and therefore I am a monster— that goes without saying At the same time, I cannot be harsh, you understand." Then came the sound of a violent blow on a table. " I feel very much disposed to kill you," said the woman, in furious tones. ' "So you have remarked more than once, my little dove. bhall we have another bottle ? " At this stage Gwynett's dinner was served, and the remainder of the conversation, which had ceased to interest him, became inaudible. After despatching his meal and paying the bill, he rose to leave the cabaret. As he approached the door, two persons passed out in front of him, a man and a woman, whose voices Identified them with the dialogue he had overheard. He had time to notice that the woman was a southerner of the shop-keeping class, young and handsome, with a tree bearing and a bold, vivacious expression. The man was perhaps five-and-forty years of age, fairly good-looking got up as a dandy of the bourgeois type, and having an air of self-conscious conceit which struck Gwynett as somewhat amusing. The pair strolled off in the direction of the Rue Beauregard. u '\\^ a "Rent Sduirc 185 terrupted a Ste. Marie le there tell They talk es nowhere ilways sus- all that to 1?" man, in a \e to be a iT woman," limentary," )w, on the i you treat the mis- ■ charming lut saying. 1." woman, in ttle dove. remainder n, became I he rose o persons 3se voices >utherner, :, with a The man i-looking, ng an air iomewhat auregard. > Gwynett thought that inforjnation about pbre Germont might be useful, and followed them at a distance in the hope of acquiring it. Arrived at the Rue Beauregard, the man went off down a side street, while the woman entered the doorway of a little shop, which had behind it a dilapidated house of some dimensions. Gwynett passed the shop, and observed that it was a herbalist's, with the name of ' Latour ' appearing over the door. He made a mental note of this, and strolled back to the Rue des Poissoniers. As he rang the bell to obtain admission, a man came up, breathless with running, and stood waiting till the door opened. Turning round, Gwynett found it was the companion of the woman of the Rue Beauregard, but wearing a depressed expres- sion, very different to his former one. The man took off his hat with great politeness. '* I beg monsieur's pardon," he said. " I believe monsieur is our new /ocatai're." " I have taken rooms here," replied Gwynett. " My name is Sanson, at monsieur's service," said the newcomer. " Madame Dubut is my mother-in-law." Gwynett acknowledged his salute, and the door was opened by the old woman. " Well ? " she said hurriedly to the man. " Both the doctors were out," he replied. '* I left word for them to come. How is he ? " " Worse," said the old woman, beginning to cry. The man's face fell, and he ran down a passage. "What is the matter, madame?" asked Gwynett. " It is the child, monsieur," sobbed the old woman. " He has a high fever, and if he has convulsions nothing will save him. We have lost so many." " Have you had a doctor ? " '• We cannot get a doctor, monsieur. Mv son-in-law came home ten mmutes ago, and at once ran off to find one. But you see he has been unsuccessful." " May I see the child, madame ? " "Certainly, monsieur," replied the old woman, looking rather surprised, " if monsieur will pardon us being a little upset. My daughter is quite beside herself. If monsieur will kmdly come this way " ^ Gwynett followed madame Dubut down a passage into a lar^e room ai the back of the house, furnished' as a bedroom and nursery. A little boy was lying in a carved wooden cradle near the wmdow, and close to it was sitting a feeble- I i86 a Ikent Squire r looking, middle-aged woman, who was evidently the mother. M. Sanson was bending over the cradle, and looked up as Gwynett entered. ^ "Is monsieur by good chance a doctor?" he asked anxiously. "I do not call myself one," replied Gwynett. "But it is possible ! can relieve your little boy. How long has he been m this state ? " befo?"'^ *^° ^°^^^' monsieur. But he was not quite well The child's face was nearly purple, his eyes were closed in a lethargy and his breathing was hurried and short. Every tew seconds his arms and legs moved convulsively. Gwynett placed his open hands on the skin round the fulness of the boy s thigh and waited for a couple of minutes. His sensitive palm, taught by experience, enabled him by this means to recognise half a dozen degrees of fever. As the room Avas comfortably warm, he removed the coverlet and blankets of the cot, and proceeded to pass his two open hands down the child's body from the shoulders to the feet. This operation he repeated steadily for a quarter of an hour. By that time the face of the sufferer had almost regained its normal colour the breathing was easier, and the twitching movements had ceased. The Sansons and madame Dubut looked on breathlessly. Gwynett sat down, and went on with his passes for some ittle time Then he took the child's hands in his own, grasped them gently but firmly, and held them for nearly half an hour. At the end of this period the fever had practically disappeared, the colour and pulse were normal, and the skin was perspiring freely. The child slept calmly and profoundly. Gwynett covered him up carefully, and rose from his chair. I think he will do for the present," he said. " If you will allow me, I will loojc in again after I have written some letters." Monsieur," said the father, " I have no words to thank you The boy is the apple of our eye. All the others are dead, and we hoped this one was going to be stronger." The mother, who had not hitherto spoken, stammered forth some fervent expressions of gratitude. "It is marvellous," said the old woman. "I cannot understand it." " I do not understand it myself, madame," replied Gwynett. But It is an art I learned when I was quite young from a very old friend of our family, then more than eighty years H Ikent Squire 187 of age. I have myself been very fortunate in using it success- fully. With some of my friends, who have tried the experi- ment, it seems to be of no service at all — I do not know why." The reader must bear in mind that the old gentleman alluded to, Mr. Valentine Greatraks (the author of " Certain Wonderful Cures," and the friend of Robert Boyle), anticipated by considerably over a century the discoveries of Mesmer, de Puysdgur, Cahagnet, du Potet, and their followers. The ignorance of himself and his pupil as to the nature of the phenomena they produced is, ther'^fore, hardly a matter for surprise. After returning from the nursery to his own room, Gwynett wrote an account of his recent proceedings to Muriel at Wray Cottage, and enclosed the letter in one to M. de Torcy, asking his good offices to have it sent across the Channel. He also mentioned where he had taken up his quarters. The letter reached the minister the next morning just as he was receiving a visitor, who had been announced as the lieutenant-general of police of Paris. This was the famous Marc-Rend, comte d'Argenson, perhaps the most skilful administrator of his time, who had certainly done more than any man in Europe at this period to render life and property secure within the area of his jurisdiction. He was now a man of about sixty, of a severe exterior, but the reverse of malignant in the execution of the duties of his office, and still hale and vigorous to a remarkable degree. He could boast the not very common distinction of having the republic of Venice for his godfather, and had had his first name bestowed upon him in that connection when his father was ambassador to the City of the Sea. The marquis handed Gwynett's letter to d'Argenson as he entered. ** This is the gentleman," he said, " for whom we are making inquiries about that missing Englishman. Is there anything fresh in that matter ? " " Not as yet," replied the lieutenant-general of police, taking the letter. " He is not at Mont St. Michel, we hear." He read the letter, and began to laugh. "That is excellent," he said, and he quoted a passage PnHina " mv lanHlorr? onr\«oro fo Ko /-ii.jf-o o Jo^v l.ill^.. " " There you have the man exactly," he said, laughing again, as he returned the letter to de Torcy. " What is the matter ? " asked the marquis. w r 1 ; 1 I ;:i 1 1 a 1 ! .1' ] ', 1' ■ !^:J r. «i' 1 i ii!^ 188 a Iftent SQufre .. 'I-^^"i, a"^"^ ^^^ ^^^^ a curious selection of a lodaJna » rephed^d'Argenson. "Do you know what Ts this fe^^^^if " Not in the least." " Whl ' wV?"? ■"°">-»-'- °f Sanson... titles^'" si? ^^^^k" de Longval, if you want all his dilapidated afer-the°Vo;'i„"'affair''"''^ '''"™ """ ""^ -PPoinCed iL« " What ! the ? » LonJvaf orAbSf. "' »««»' f^^ly. Jou k„o„_de Ytir Tv,. •^°?«^""^- The grandfather entertained Louis fell f; ?n '■^' ^i^ ""' pensioned by Richelieu. sLnson Se r^n Co ^"'"'"g- Wer father made his consent denend^nf ?e"ssion"'™' ^"""'"^ ■>'= "^^i^*^"' ""d adfplg^TpS.' "Bless my soul'" al.;ioThrrt\™rt:dS"tK^%\^.^''- ^T^- sullSd'-C ^V'"/'' -e%ri™beflr':'\rr^^;,^ fh!!J , \ ^^^" ^^ married his step-mother's sister ^ehousraSd is''' "°' "^."'^ ^^°^^^' °^ cCseXught a nne nouse and is now your friend's .landlord." ^ « T H° vfJ'^ ^^ ''^""^^ possibly know." They^^rT^e'^^lTcVre^pLtlirp^rtiZ there very little himself w^ Uo i J • ^ isanson lives -e hin,Je;f ^^^^^t^^oo^eLiTin^KS:- "^ ""''''' '° .iSf-„"'f^"'' shrugged his shoulders. Still, I must tell M. de Starhemberg," he observed to l^:;ilt'''' ^^P^'^^ ^'^^g--, adrsslnthimself the^'oSleslSn'of^^''^^^ "?^ \' ^^P'-"^^' ^o- Roi'_in other^wo ds he w^f Jk '"M"' ^^"'^^ '^"^^^s du city of Paris * ' ""^^ '''^ P"^^'^ executioner of the o«.=un V. who executed Louis XVI. and Mari; Antdne"tfe"' ""^^ J H lkent Squire X89 )f a lodging," his family of CHAPTER XXV is dilapidated Jpointed just pbre ? " 1 know — de ained Louis Sanson pbre lose parents t dependent ng his pro- 3. Eventu- son of his he formally :her's sister ■—bought a ar marquis, anson lives I Gr^ve, to ed. ig himself lined, bore 3euvres du ner of the generations :e. It was THE BREST LETTER GwYNETT found no further occasion for the exercise of his curative gifts upon M. Sanson's little son, as the latter was practically convalescent the morning after his seizure. A further acquaintance with the patient showed him to be an exceedingly engaging and intelligent little fellow, with a refinement of manner and appearance, even in his stage of babyhood, rather difficult to reconcile with descent from either of his parents. Gwynett had a considerable fondness for children, usually repaid on their part by an enthusiasm which was not without its inconveniences. But a special interest excited by little Chariot — the name of the heir of the house of Sanson — disposed him to take no particular notice of the communication respecting his landlord's profession which he duly received from M. de Torcy. He thus stayed on at his lodgings for nearly a month, during which he explored the ins and outs of Paris, and made use of various introductions furnished him by the marquis. From time to time reports concerning the inquiries after Randolph Dorrington, mainly of a negative character, continued to be furnished him by M. d'Argenson. Finally, the lieutenant-general of police informed him that the channels of inquiry open to the department were exhausted, and that no result was forth- coming. Gwynett accordingly decided to return to England forthwith. On the evening before his intended departure, he availed himself of one of M. de Torcy's introductions which circum- stances had hitherto prevented him using. This was to the Paris hotel of the countess of Melfort, the wife of the famous (or infamous) James Drummond, earl of Melfort, for many years the prime minister in exile, and dme damnee in general, to the late king James II. The countess was a near relative of M. de Torcy, and had been a playmate of his in childhood. Since her marriage, at about seventeen years of age, she had invariably paid him the compliment of expecting his assistance to get her out of the continual scrapes into which she was brought by her extravagance, her passion for card-playing, and her genius for quarrelling with the Maintenon party at Versailles. The marquis was alternately filled with vexation i if 'M i V 190 a •Rent Squire at her imbroglios and with admiration at the way she coaxed him into puttmg matters straight for her. ^ "^ Melfort"'to m"^ ^T^''^'^ ^X "^^^^^ed call at the hotel Meifort to M. de Torcy. The marquis decided to follow h.s example, and found the countess sitting with a lady who was unknown to him, but whose extraordinary beaS?y and dis inction made him wonder at his ignorance ^ greet Lm°"'"tU'f '^^^ M^'^o^t, as she came forward to greet mm, this is my dearest friend the comtesse de Valmcour, of the household of madame la dauphine " Ihe comtesse and de Torcy exchanged salutations. ''td!u ^" ^^'J'^y' my dear Athenais," said the marquis never h'ave^L'n'r^f f^"' "'^ ^'-^ ^°'"^^^-- ^^ " '^S Tt an." ^ ^ opportunity of being a friend "I have not been much morr than a month at Marlv " explained the comtesse graciously. " I have only made this one visit to Paris, and one to Versailles " ^ lady m"' "'' """'^^ ^'"'^ ^y ^^y °^ ^^^^°"^^'" P"t in The marquis expressed a polite curiosity as to the detaiU which the comtesse proceeded to furnish ' "I only regret that I did not learn the name of the cCtdbg."'° ""'''' "^ '' ^''"'^''y" «^^ "e'arkeVin •'That would not be difficult," said the marquis. fhJ;l- f 'P"" ^^^^ ^°''' ^^'^•"^ '^'"^ opened. He noticed ?asL^tmTef :^^^^^^^^ ' ''''' ''''' ^^^^^ ^ --- %^t " M de Starheniberg," announced the major-domo. De lorcy introduced Gwynett to the ladies. 1 think we have met before, monsieur," said the comtesse with a dazzling smile. "Athenais, this s the gentkman of whom we were just speaking." gcnueman ot The marquis chuckled inaudibly. A "3?''.^?""^?'^" '^^'"^ ^° ^ave a knack of being always ^/^tf/w," he said to himself. 1^^"% aiways "How extraordinary ! " cried lady Meifort, with enthusiasm saidGwyner''"' '" '^' "° "' ^^^^^^ ^°- thlfSp," " I 'hank you, none," replied the comtesse. "It was mo<;^ fortunate that so little harm was done " " Except to the poor horses," said Gwynett. " I have their assassination much on my conscience. But it was impossiSe she coaxed the hotel to follow I lady who eauty and brward to ntesse de ne." ■ marquis, on should a friend t Marly," nade this !," put in e details, e of the irked, in : noticed 3US light omtesse, 2man of ; always usiasm. lishap," IS most ve their )ossible a "Rent Squire 191 to do anything else— a single instant's delay would have almost certainly been fatal." " Mon Dieu! yes," agreed lady Melfort. " With half one's hair sticking in the door, one must excuse ceremony. But monsieur may be fonder of horses than of anything else in the world? Marquis, as these two are quite mix mieiix with each other, I am going to trouble you with a little matter of busmess. Your arm, if you please. Yvonne, you must entertain M. de Starhemberg till we come back." The marquis groaned in spirit as he accompanied his relative to a little boudoir leading out of the salon. A woman was in this room, evidently finishing the putting away of numerous gallipots and phials of various sizes into an innocent-looking bonnet box. " I thought you were gone, Marie," said lady Melfort. "I was afraid I had lost a phial, madame," replied the woman, who was the herbalist of the Rue Beauregard. " But they are all here. I wish madame a good evening," and she left the room by a second door. " The worthy lady seems rather at home here," observed the marquis. " That is Latour — a pearl of great price, my cousin. Don't you know she sells the finest cosmetics out of Italy— or in it for that matter ? " ' " I deplore my ignorance of the fact. It arises, probably, from my having rather neglected my complexion. But what is our little business, my dear Athenais ? " " Money, dear cousin, this time." •' That surprises me, of course. Let me hear the worst." " There is no worst." " That surprises me still more." " On the contrary, I have a magnificent idea, my cousin." " At whose expense, my dear Athenais ? " " Not yours, certainly." ^''You take the rope off my neck. Tell me all about The countess seated herself on a ,ofa, and motioned de Torcy to a \g^ fauteuil with its back to the door by which madame Latour had gone out. The marquis sank into it with a resigned air. "You must know, my cousin, that of late I have been miraculously unlucky at cards." " I never knew you to be anything else, my dear Athenais. \ -^ I 1 M !■: 193 You you." "I are a Iftent Squive too virtuous. I should cheat a little, if I were have tried that, my cousin. But it is too faticuine. Anyhow, I am bankrupt, and M. de Melfort simply laughs at me. ° " I am glad he is still in the amused stage. But we have not yet heard about your magnificent idea." tvt"i/ ^"l coming to that. Of course, you know that lord Melfort had an immense correspondence with our friends in England before lord Middleton succeeded to his official duties." Melfort, it may be mentioned, had proved himself so ingeniously and inveterately injudicious as an adviser to the late ex-king James II., that Louis XIV. had finally insisted upon his being replaced by the earl of Middleton. " Naturally," said the marquis. '[ Equally, you of course know that the duke of Marlborough IS in the worst possible odour with the English ministry, and that they are seeking high and low for means to ruin him utterly." "One hears that sort of thing, of course." "Well, all this brought to my recollection something that happened ages since— when I was first married." " Let us see — when was that ? " " Seventeen years ago," replied the countess, with a sigh. " And you are now ? " " Silence, monster ! My age is twenty-five, and I reckon twenty-four months in the year. Bu > happened, just after my marriage, that a note was brought to lord MeJfort at bt. Germain by a messenger from colonel Sackville in Loridon, which my husband thought very important. It enclosed a letter from the earl of Marlborough— of course, he was called lord Churchill in Sackville's note *— to king James, warning him that the expedition fitting out at Portsmouth under admiral Russell and general Talmash was to sail to attack Brest." " I was not in office then," observed the marquis, who had succeeded his father (the marquis de Croissy) as foreign secretary in 1696. " But I recollect the circumstance." It occurred to me that a letter from the duke, betraying an English fleet for the benefit of the king of Franre. wnniH h.l!^rK''^"^M,T°[i?fi- *K ^^'■''^°"' °* Marlborough conferred upon baron Churchill by WiHiara III. fpr h/5 desertion of king James in 1688. H ficnt Squire ipr I, if I were )o fatiguing, mply laughs But we have w that lord our friends ' his official himself so viser to the ally insisted larlborough ih ministry, ans to ruin ething that 5s, with a i I reckon 1, just after Melfort at ickville in ortant. It course, he :ing James, i'ortsmouth to sail to s, who had as foreign ance." , betraying ncGi would ferred upon es in 1688. be rather useful to his enemies just now — evx .lore usefui than the charges of corruption in connection with the army contracts, which are talked about." "Very likely," said the marquis. "Rut were you in lord Melfort's official confidence, may I ask?" "I happened to see that particular letter," replied the countess. "Well, what about it?" " I am going to sell it to lord Oxford." "I^ardieu/" " Why not ? We are old friends, and he and my husband are on the best of terms. I an. sure he would pay me more for them than a stranger." " I don't see that that follows. Apart from your optimism, however, it occurs to me lord Melfort may object to giving you the letter — even if it is still extant." " My cousin, it is in my pocket." " Then, my dear Athenais, I distinctly decline to hear how you obtained it. I must draw the line somewhere." " Pooh ! you need not put on airs. What ought I to ask for the letter ? Is it worth twenty thousand livres ? " " Really, Athenais, your indiscretion amazes me." " Very well. I shall ask twenty thousand livres. The next thing is to find a reliable messenger — one does not like to trust this sort of affair to the ordinary channels." The rnarquis, despite his apparent nonchalance, had been considenng this affair very seriously. It was not to the interest of France that Marlborough should be driven to extremity, so Jong as he adhered to the agreement made with de Torcy at Eekeren. The duke had served and betrayed so many masters that it was even yet possible he might be found on the side of France against the emperor. But he would be furious if he were attacked in parliament with a weapon which he would know must have come from a member of de Torcy's family. The first question was obviously as to the exact importance of the letter itself. "If you really want my advice," he said finally, "I better see this letter. It may be of less use than imagine." Lady Melfort produced a packet from her pocket. " This is it," she said. " First of all, you see, there had you translation by my husband of colonel Sackville's cypher, which enclosed lord Churchill's letter." The translation of the note ran as follows : is a note in X3 ii 194 a U^ent Squtrc "4/A May, 1694. I have just now received the enclosed for the king.* It is from lord Churchill, but no person except the queen t and you must know from whom it comes. Therefore, for the love of God, let it be kept a secret." " The words you see interlined—' even from lord Middhton,' " said the countess, " are a memorandum of my husband's." The marquis read on : "I send it by an express, judging it to be of the utmost consequence for the service of the king, | my master ; and con- sequently for the service of his most Christian Majesty. § You see, by the contents of this letter, that I am not deceived in the judgment I formed of admiral Russell ; for that man has not acted sincerely, and I fear he will never act otherwise." " Here is the letter," said the countess, handing him another. You see it is in the duke's writing, endorsed by my husband, * Lord Churchill's letter to the king of England ' ||." This is the famous " Brest letter," as the reader may find It copied in the Stuart Papers.^ "It is only to-day I have learned the news I now write to you ; which is, that the bomb-ketches and the twelve regiments encamped at Portsmouth, with the two regiments of marines all commanded by Talmash, are destined for burning the harbour of Brest, and destroying all the men-of-war which are there. This will be a great advantage to England. But no consideration can prevent, or ever shall prevent me from informing you of all that I believe to be for your service Therefore you may make your own use of this intelligence which you may depend upon being exactly true. But 1 must conjure you, for your own interest, to let no one know it but the queen and the bearer of this letter. Russell sails to-morrow, with forty ships, the rest being not yet paid ; but it is said, that in ten days, the rest of the fleet will follow; and, at the same time, the land forces. I have endeavoured to learn this some time ago from admiral Russell. But he always denied it to me, though I am very sure that he knew of the design for more than six weeks. This gives me a bad sign of this man's intentions. I shall be very well pleased to learn that this letter comes safe to your hands." The marquis laid down the letter with a disgusted air "Good Lord!" he said, "if Melfort had only sent this * James II., at St. Germain. f Maria Beatrice, queen of James II. t James II. § Louis XIV. || James 11. t Vol. I., pp. 486-7. J May, 1694. ing.* It is 1 1 and you the love of 'iddUton^ " nd's." the utmost ; and con- sty. § You leceived in it man has rwise." 11 another, husband, may find V write to regiments f marines, irning the which are But no me, from ir service. telligence, ut i must low it but being not f the fleet >. I have U Russell, re that he [ives me a 11 pleased ir. sent this imes II, I W a IKcnt Sdutrc 195 over at once to William III., Marlborough would have been hung or beheaded nnd we should have escaped Blenheim, Ramillies, Malpla^jK^i, and the loss of men and treasure beyond calculation. It is lamentable to think of." "All the same, I would rather have my twenty thousand Iivres, observed the countess, who did not pretend to be a politician. 'I he marquis looked at the letter again. "VVell," he said to himself, "since the letter is here, let us consider what can be done with it. It might be enormously useful—at the proper time. It is sheer waste to allow my dear cousm to handle it in such a trumpery fashion. We must manage matters better than that." He handed the letter back to lady Melfort, who asked, What do you thmk of it, my cousin ? Am I not right ?" "Perfectly, my dear Athenais, and I am quite at your service. You want a trusty messenger ? " " That is it." " Your guest in the next room goes to England to-morrow. You could not find a better person." " I will ask him at once." " Heavens and earth ! my dear Athenais, do you want to rum me, chattering about an affair like this under my very riose ?— I, a secretary of state ! And with madame de Valincour for'once''"^° '''^'^^^ *° *^^ dauphine. Do be reasonable, II By all means if you will tell me how to be reasonable." Certainly. Have you written to lord Oxford ? " ' I have a letter ready." "Very good. Let me have it, duly sealed and addre 3rd with your enclosures inside, and I will speak to our yc un- friend about It m private." ^ *= The countess went to an escritoire, and enclosed the two letters we have quoted in one to the earl of Oxford. After b^ug?^' if .'iTC^^'^' " *<= "■■"'■^'" ■■" London, she in hii'^pocke^: '^ '"" ''''"' *' "-I"''. -'" his hands "Yes." " Do you expect me to take that ? " "Why not?" " My dear Athenais, it is delightful to be young. But there IS no use m being childish." " What on earth is the matter now ? " 196 H ment Squire !'!■ |t .U The matter is, that I refuse to know anything about a etter to lord Oxford. I am quite wiHing to know about a letter addressed to our gallant horse-knacker, which may contam anythmg or nothing, for all I can tell " ettilh?^ ^°"^^ ^°" "°* '""^ ^° before?" retorted the countess "I am surprised to have to say so now," replied the marquis. ^ .^^^^ A^^^t^.^^''^''^^^ ^^^ P^^'^^t '■" another cover, u^^xrn ^u ° ^- ^^ Starhemberg, and handed it to de Torcy Will that do ? " she asked. "Admirably " replied the marquis, putting it in his pocket with one hand, while he raised the other to his shoulder. And now, my dear Athenais, if you have no further com- mands for me, we will go back to the salon. This boudoir of yours has all the winds of heaven blowing about it. I shall have a stiff neck for a week." 'lu ^^f ^t^^oo"" behind you is a little ajar," said the countess, as they left the room. " I am very sorry." The marquis stopped and looked at 'the door with a sus- picious air. ''Decidedly you have a genius for conspiracy, my dear Athenais. But it is a little too late to shut the door now " h.ii H Tfu"^".!' ^*^"°'''^'^ '^^y ^^^^^'■t into the salon, the hall door of the hotel opened and closed, and madame Utour appeared on the steps leading to the street. A gentleman was ^T"? T "" '!°PP^^ ^' ^^ ^''^"g^t s'ght of her face in the ^u Vf ?^ g'^^^ ^^"^^'■" ^h'ch hung in the portico. ^^ M. Gaultier ! " she ejaculated. " The very person." No doubt, my dear Marie," said the abb^. " But why ? » Ihe woman lowered her tone, and spoke close to the abbd's " Very much indeed, my dear Marie. May I pay mv respects to the countess of Melfort first, and take my sister home ? You have been seeing her, I suppose ? " \ es. But don't go in just yet. Come this way." The woman led him to a dark porch on the other side of the street pomted to the door of the hotel Melfort, and conversed with him in a low tone for several minutes. ""versea -. •"■;"■' f^"-^iDlc, aaiu -^auluer nnaiiy. " But when we have got the letter, why not sell it to the duke himself?" He is too stingy," replied madame Latour. H m In a ment Squire 197 ng about ow about lich may countess )lied the r cover, Torcy. is pocket shoulder, ler com- oudoir of I shall :ountess, h a sus- tny dear ow." lion, the e Latour man was e in the why ? " e abba's with me, pay my ly sister e of the nversed hen we m tt' 'There is something in that. What is the name of the messenger ? " " I did not catch it— if it was mentioned." " Can you not find out ? " ** You had better do that yourself, when you go in." The door of the hotel Melfort opened, and Gwynett stood upon the threshold. " Look ! " said Marie, as his face came into the light of the lantern. " That is the messenger." Gaultier turned livid. " Damnation ! " he growled, under his breath. CHAPTER XXVI A LETTRE DE CACHET As Gwynett was taking his leave of the countess of Melfort and madame de Valincour, the marquis asked him to call at the hotel of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs before setting out on his journey the next day. "I may venture to trouble you with a small commission," ne said, that is, jf you have not had enough of doing little services for your acquaintances." " I am quite at your disposal, M. le marquis. And I bee to tender you in advance the thanks of my friends in England tor the trouble you have taken on their behalf " f 1" '^cf ^; "°^h*"g; I am sorry we have been so unsuccess- tul. Should anything transpire later, I will not fail to let you know. The next morning Gwynett called at the Ministry, received the packet addressed to him by the countess, and expressed his willingness to deliver the enclosure on his arrival in li^ngland. He gave the marquis the address of Will's Coffee- house in Russell Street, Covent Garden, as the place to which for the present It would be best to forward communications, and then set off on his journey to England. M. de Torcy called upon lady Melfort in the course of a day or two to assure her of the despatch of her packet. friend is enchanting," said the countess. " Why did you not send h.m to us before? As it was, Yvonne had him all to herself the other night." 198 a Tkent Squire i }• :■ n »ii "That is an extraordinarily fine woman," observed the marquis. •' Oh ! I suppose so. She is decidedly eprise with vour M. de Starhemberg." " What did she say ? " " Nothing." significant for a woman to say nothing, affair, I have been admiring your excellent remarkable that you should recollect the conveniently. Seventeen years is a long ^ " CerteSy it is A propos of this memory. It is duke's letter so time." " There was a mind, fellow- little circumstance that impressed it on my The messenger who brought it was such a handsome " That quite accounts for it." " I did not mean that. But my husband took it into his head that this M. Collins, as he called himself— Richard Colhns, if I recollect right— had tampered with the seal and read the despatch from lord Marlborough. It was not the sort of thing to be allowed to become known, so they at once got a lettre de cachet and put M. Collins in the Bastille." " But no one would be employed as a messenger who was not perfectly reliable. The note said as much." "You see, they were thinking of the regular messenger, captain Floyd." ** How was that ? " " The despatch had been carried to Dover in the usual way by captain Floyd, and he was taken dangerously ill when just on the point of starting across the Channel. Knowing the extreme urgency of the affiiir, he handed the letter to a friend— this M. Collins— who was with him, and who wa" quite willing to help him out of the difficulty. Unfortunately It turned out that M. Collins was a close friend of general Talmash. Hence the lettre de cachet:' " There has been a most reckless misuse of these lettres de cachet" said the marquis discontentedly. "Melfort could have had the man knocked on the head in some quiet place for a couple of louis, and the matter would have been settled. It is shameful to put us to the expense of maintaining prisoners for nothing. Was the duke told of the affair?" " Yes. I recollect he wrote thanking us. But as a matter of fact, although my husband was rieht in sunnosin" that the despatch had been opened, it was not M.'coiliiS who opened it." t d m a Ikent Squire 199 :rved the vith your nothing, excellent illect the 5 a long t on my andsome into his -Richard seal and not the i at once who was issenger, 3ual way ill when knowing ter to a ifho was ;unately, general ittres de t could St place settled, ntaining air?" i matter nrr 4>K A«i ins who \i *' How do you k ow ? " " Because I ope; ed it myself." The marquis stared at the speaker. " It happened this way, my cousin," explained the countess. "At the time of my marriage, extraordinary as you may think it, I was desperately jealous of some girl over in England who used to correspond with my husband." ** You surprise me," said the marquis. "It is quite true. Of course, lord Melfort said she was only a Jacobite agent. I had seen several covers addressed by her, and this one sent by colonel Sackville seemed to be in the same handwriting. I managed to make a fac-simile seal, and opened the letter. Naturally, there was nothing in it to interest me at the time, so I re-sealed it and put it back with the rest of lord Melfort's correspondence. I daresay my seal was rather clumsy, and they found it out." " So Collins was imprisoned for youi little tricks ? " " I suppose so." " When was he released ? " " I never heard any more about him." " Good Lord ! then he may be in the Bastille still?" " Now you mention it, it is very likely — unless, of course, he is dead." "It is perfectly monstrous," cried the marquis angrily. " Do you think we have gold-mines at Versailles, that we are to provide people with board and lodging for seventeen years without the slightest occasion ? Every prisoner costs us five livres a day, at least. Was he a gentleman ? " " Decidedly — a man of good position, I should say." " Heavens and earth ! that would be fifteen livres. Saint Mars would toke care of that, and so would de Bernaville. This is the way we are made bankrupt." It may be mentioned that the scale of maintenance allowed to the governor of the Bastille for each prisoner was fifcy livres a day for a prince of the blood, thirty-six for a mardchal, twenty-four for a lieutenant-general, fifteen for a person of quality or member of a parliament, ten for a judge, priest, or person in the finance, five for a decent bourgeois, and fifty sols for servants arrested or in attendance upon their masters. " Really," said the countess, " I am very sorry. But this is the first time I liavft rerollfictpd it " " Why on earth did you not put the matter right when you first knew of it ? " !■ / u I' ■ t ' •■ tt 200 a tkcnt Squire "Well, in the first place, I did not want to make myself ridiculous, and in the second, M. de Melfort would have again, I thought it might be useful to scolded me. Then leave things alone." " How, may I ask ? " "Evidently lord Marlborough was concerned at the pos- sibility of this M. Collins knowing the contents of the letter." " Well ? " "Don't you think it might be convenient to us, some time or other, for lord Marlborough to be afraid of somebody even in mistake?" " Is my cousin beginning to display gleams of intelligence ? " thought the marquis, with wonder. Then he said aloud, " Unfortunately, my dear Athenai's, you made M. de Marl- borough perfectly comfortable when you allowed your M. Collins to be put in the Bastille." " He could have been let out when it was wanted to do the duke a mischief," said the countess. "But you have just explained that M. Collins was ignorant of the contents of the letter." " Lord Marlborough did not know that, you see," said the countess, with a wise air. The marquis looked at his relative, with his head on one side and his eyes half closed. "Is this cleverness," he said to himself, "or is it merely a new phase of stupidity ? " "And then," went on the countess, "it would have been quite easy at any time to explain to M. Collins the exact reason of his imprisonment." " Really, my cousin cannot be altogether a fool," thought the marquis. " Well, my dear Athenais, if you had mentioned all these fine ideas to me years ago, it might have been of some use. " You see, I forgot all about it, M. Collins is in the Bastille still." "It just occurs to me that d'Argenson has reported there is no Englishman in the Bastille or any of our prisons. So he IS probably dead long since." "That is a pity. He was a magnificent fellow, with a charming name— if I could remember it." " I don't understand." " His passport was in the name of Richard Collins, but that was not his real name." You had better find out if I a Ikent Squire 20 1 ake myself ould have useful to t the pos- ts of the us, some somebody, ligence ? " oud, de Marl- M. Collins to do the s ignorant ' said the d on one it merely ave been ;he exact thought lentioned been of nd out if 1 there is . So he with a lins, but " Why do you think so ? " "We had a little conversation together, and he told me. It has quite escaped my recollection." "It would not make any difference," said the marquis. " He would be entered under the name in his passport. It might be worth while rummaging de Bernaville's registers to see what became of him." " I wish you would," said the countess. " Oh ! is it not wonderful ? " "What?" " I have never thought of his name for seventeen years, and now it has come into my mind." "Well, what is it?" " Randolph Dorrington." The marquis bounded from his chair. "What on earth is the matter, my cousin?" asked the startled countess. " We have been hunting for Randolph Dorrington over all France," said the marquis. " M. de Starhemberg came here expressly to make inquiries about him, and now he will be out of the country. You will excuse me, my dear Athenais — I must see to this without delay." " Do," said the countess. " It will be so funny if M. Collins is still alive somewhere or other. Only don't tell him I was the culprit — he might be annoyed with me." "That is possible," said the marqius, as he went to his carriage. " To the Bastille," he said to the coachman. It was already dark when the carriage turned the of the Rue St. Antoine, and drove up to the wicket of the outlymg group of buildings by which the house of the governor of the Bastille was approached. The eight towers of the vast and gloomy fortress, and the curtain-walls which connected them, rose in a black mass against a stormy sky. Over this the clouds were hurried by a blustering gale from the north-west, while the light of the moon broke fitfully through the masses of flying scud. Our friend Gwynett will have an uncomfortable passage," thought the marquis, as the footman knocked at the first gateway. "Who goes there ? "challenged the guard. "The marquis de Torcy, on the king's service," replied the footman. ^ The guard opened the gate and admitted the carriage. down angle 202 a fkcnt Squire ■k* . . «fe:i 1, / :, I 1 1 ^J HH ;!' g ■ •■ |H; ^ i H f.l il m the " Pass, on the king's service," said he, as he locked gate behind them. The carriage passed under the armoury, which was built over the outer gateway, and emerged into the first, or passage On the left of this court were a row of sheds and sutlers' shops, built agamst the great wall which surrounded the enclosure of the Bastille. On the right were the stables and quarters of the guard. In front was the farther wall of the court, with its great gateway and the first drawbridge not yet raised for the night. ' At this gateway the same challenge was made, and the same reply given. The lieutenant of the guard came forward to inspect the occupant of the carriage. "I do not know monsieur by sight," he said courteously, but I will send word to M. le gouverneur. He is on the terrace. "As soon as you can," replied the marquis, shivering, as he put up the window of the carriage a^^ain. In a couple of minutes the officer "received an answer to his message, came forward again, and the second gate was opened. ^ ^u "^i'?."' T ^^"^ '''"C' service," he said to the coachman. 1 he latter drove over the drawbridge into the second court 1 his was cMled the Cour du Gouvernement, from having on Its right, the house of the governor. Beyond this house' on the same side, was a passage and gate leading to the garden of the Arsenal adjacent. Opposite the drawbridge was the terrace, stretching across the court, and approached by two flights of stone steps. It was planted with shrubs, and had a little arched pavilion or summer-house on the left. Facing the governor's house were the gateway and passage leading to the second drawbridge and the chateau itself The governor was trying the effect of some new lamps on the terrace, and came down the steps into the court as de lorcys carriage stopped before the portico. "Good evening, M. le marquis," said he, as he assisted the minister to alight. "This is an unexpected honour. It is quite a chance I had not already gone out." "A sudden whim, my dear M. de Bernaville," replied the marquis, as they went indoors. " I have promised to make uu mquiry for my relative the countess of Melfort, and I ^"»"t"u' Seailowcu any peace till I have satisfied her curiosity." I shall be delighted to do anything to oblige r^iadame de a Ikent Squire 203 locked the was built or passage nd sutlers' unded the he stables irther wall rawbridge, , and the \e forward )urteously, is on the ivering, as answer to gate was :oachman. court. n having, lis house, he garden was the d by two nd had a Facing eading to lamps on court as sisted the ir. It is plied the to make rt, and I uriosity." dame de Mellbrt," said the governor. " What do you wish to know, M. le marquis ? " " Do you recollect anything of an Englishman named Collins being here any time during your term of office ? " "Collins? ColHns? We have a man here named Collin," replied de Bernaville, giving the name its French pronunciation. " I did not know he was English. No one could tell it from his accent." "Perhaps that accounts for d'Argenson's report." " What report ? " " That there was no Englishman in the Bastille." " Very likely. We can ask him, if you like. He is the fourth jBazini^re." " I should rather like to see him. But have you his /eUre de cachet ? " "I suppos- it will be in the archive-room. He has been here a long time, I fancy— before M. de Saint Mars, even." M. de Bernaville had succeeded M. de Saint Mars on the death of the latter in 1708, after a governorship of ten years. " Can we look at it ? " asked the marquis. " I am aware it is rather late." " Certainly. We will go at once, if you like, before they raise the drawbridge." " I shall be very much obliged to you." The governor put on his hat and cloak, and led the marquis across the court. The drawbridge over the ditch, at the end of the short, covered way leading out of the court on the left, was just on the point of being raised for the night. The guard presented arms, and waited for the two gentlemen to pass over. The marquis looked up as they crossed the bridge. On the other side stood the gateway and double doors of the Bastille, plunged in profound shadow, and making a vast cavern m the wall connecting the two terminal towers of the Bazmi^re on the left and the Comt^ on the right. From one or two of the window-gratings, separated by the whole thickness of the walls from the rooms inside the towers, a faint gleam strayed out into the inky darkness of the night. The storm was increasing, and the marquis drew his cloak around him more closely. r,..v.:. :,,■= r/i^rvci, in response to tiie suuimons of M. de Bernaville, was opened, the governor and his visitor passed under the front offices of the chateau into the. Grande Cour. 1 'i 111 ; 'i 204 a ikent Squire rhis court was the principal precinct of the chateau. On ts right were the three towers of the Comte, the Tresor. and theChapelle; on the left the Bazini^re, the iiertaudibre and the curiously named Liberty-all connected by enormous curtain-walls with a fortified terrace on the top. The fourth side of the Grande Cour, opposite the entrance, was fo?med by a two-storey building which connected the third tower on each side, the^ Liberty and the Chapelle. This struc[u?e contained on the lower floor various offices and guard-rooms' and on the upper the council-chamber and the library (of some five hundred volumes) for the use of the prisoners Beyond this building was the Cour du Puits, so called from us cesspool of a well, with the two towers of the Puits and th^ Coin at Its farther corners. nJthl ^jg^l.to^e^'S were arranged somewhat after the plan lit ,^°"^^;i°"'- °^ dominoes, only having the cross-bar paSlogTam ''' '^°'' "^^''' °' ^^'^^ ^" ''' ^'^'^^ -' the Each tower consisted of a cac/iof (cellar or dungeon) four stories above, a fifth (called the ca/oUe) under the^roSf and a fortified terrace on The top of all. Each storey cou ained a single irregular-sided roomfwith the addition TnLme cases of a small closet tak.n froir. the thickness of the wall. The Chateau could thus accommodate, irrespective of the cac/iofs we ^ krwTnoT'h ''""^ a separate'room. The inmates were known, not by name, but by their towers and the number of their floors therein. As the governor and the marquis entered the Grande Cour hey were met by the lieutenant du roi. This functionary was tseif, hying in It and being responsible for the discipline of fhl nhs/ ^" 1^ governor, as has been said, lived outside the chateau, and was charged with the due entry and discharge of prisoners, their maintenance, and their health. ^ M. de Launey,"* said the governor, " M. le marquis de Torcy desires to examine the /effre de cachet of the fourth • Bazinifere, and afterwards to have an interview with him » 1 he lieutenant du roi bowed. "With pleasure, M. le marquis," he said. "But it may T^:! I*"A^.- ^^ ¥""^y succeeded de BernaviUe as governor in ,„8 .xx= "I-iaicu son, Dorn m tlie chateau in 1740, was the last governor of I ml fS 'A • '4 B Ikeiit Squire ao5 ateau. On Tresor, and udifere, and enormous The fourth ivas formed i tower on structure iard-rooms» library (of ners. ailed from its and the : the plan i cross-bar itre of the jeon), four roof, and contained )me cases, /all. The le cachots, t inmates and the ide Cour, Dnary was a Bastille cipline of mitted to d outside discharge arquis de le fourth m." It it may r in i'7i8. overnor of ier of the take some little time to find the order. I will fetch my keys, if you will pardon my keeping you waiting a moment," " How is business with you, my dear governor ? " asked the marquis, as the lieutenant went back to his quarters. •'Very good," replied de Bernaville cheerfully, rubbing his hands. *' We have forty-one, and all except three on a good scale. Your M. Couins is one of the three — he is only a ten livre man." " How do you manage with the odd man ? " "Well, as a matter of fact, I am sending one to Vincennes to-morrow, by an order from M. le comte de Pontchartrain. You see, I have thirty-eight prisoners at fifteen livres and upwards, and three at ten livres. I cannot put any of these, you understand, two in a room. So I am getting rid of a ten livre man to allow a room each for the other forty." Th I lieutenant du roi returned with his keys, took a lantern from the guard, and opened the door of the archive-room. This was part of a building at the foot of the curtain-wall which connected the Baziniere with the Bertaudiere, the other and more distant portion being the chapel. By good luck, the docurnent imprisoning Collins was found without difficulty. It spelt his name, by mistake, as Collin, made no mention of his offence or his nationality, was dated May 8th, 1694, and put him on the ten livre scale. It was countersigned by the secretary of state Letellier, son of the marquis de Louvois, both of whom had been dead several years. " I will see this prisoner for a few minutes, M. le lieutenant," said the marquis, " but in strict incognito. Has he a light?" "No doubt, M. le marquis," said the lieutenant du roi. " He spends most of his time reading. The turnkey can let you have more candles, if you like." " A couple will do no harm," said the marquis. " You will do me the honour to sup with me, M. le marquis, before you leave ? " asked de Bernaville. " I always yield to temptation, my dear governor. Every- one says your cook is worthy of the Palais-Royal~in fact, I wonder M. d'Orleans does not steal him from you." " You flatter me," said the delighted governor. " But to- night you must take pot-luck— you should have given me an hour's notice. Here, Leblanc ! conduct monsieur to the fourth Baziniere— incognito, recollect. Au revoir, my dear marquis." " 1 shall not be long," nodded the marquis, as he followed the turnkey. The governor went back to his house, and the lieutenant du roi to his quarters. 206 B fkcnt SquU'c m In each tower the various floors were reached by a sniral stone staircase, built in the thickness of the walls. whi?h diminished from over forty feet thick at the basement to abiut ten at he ca/oUes. The irregular polygonal rooms were practically of the same size throughout. On each flo^ a little passage ran through the solid masonry from the staircase to the thick double doors of the prisoner's room The arXvTroom ^'''"^^'' """'''^ ^^""^ '^' ^"^^^^ °^ ' ^e f^.wllf Torcy and the turnkey reached the landing of the fourth floor, the former stopped and said to hir, companion r.J r^""' ^°r ""^J. Leblanc-if that is yo.r narAe-thit I remember your face." " Possibly, M. le marquis," replied the turnkey respectfully You have seen me before." f^y^^-iuny. "When was that?" "M. le marquis I had the honour of showing you up these stairs, into the first flour, exactly thirteen years Lo If monsieur will recollect, it was the evening of the arrival of a wWspe?' " ""'—" '"' '^' *"^"^^y'« -- "-k to A slight shiver passed over the marquis as he replied stormTs thts."''^' "^ ^°°' '^'''''''' '' ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^ The rnarquis stopped at the entrance of the passage to the fourth Bazm.ere. His thoughts went back to^he night of September i8th, 1698, when M. de Saint Mars, arriving from Pignerol to take up his governorship of the Bastilll had brought with him, in a litter, a prisoner from the ci adel of M ^Lnrt\^''^F'T '^^"^Pn^oner was received by M. Dujonca, the then lieutenant du roi, and put for a couple of hours m the first Bazini^re. At nine o'clock the saS e night he was transferred to the third Bertaudibre, where he remained until his death. He was allowed ever^tWngthat he asked for except his liberty, and even the governor did not sit in his presence. The face of this prisoner was never seen. It was covered with a black velvet visor, the lower part of which was furnished with steel springs to permit the wearer to eat and drink without inconvenience. 0?ders were given to kill the prisoner on the instant if the visor were emoved. He died on November 19th, 1703, and was buTfed m the nansh rhnrph of Qf p^„i ~i \.' , . . "r W "."• ■" '""•' -^""'> '-iusc at nand, under the .P.'!S f ^^'f'^'S''^'- I" his g^ave was hidden for ever the secret of the Man in the Iron Mask. fv^ a fcent Squire 207 by a spiral ills, which It to about )oms were :h floor a e staircase 3m. The de of the ing of the )anion, le— that I spectfully. J you up s ago. If arrival of e sank to t such a ge to the night of 'ing from tille, had :itadel of 5ived by a couple the same vhere he ling that rnor did as never le lower xmit the ers were or were s buried ider the ever the A mist came before the eyes of the martiuis, and the picture rose unbidden in his memory of the tall and graceful form, the costly raiment, and the veiled face of the man whom he had seen seated at the table of the first Bazinit;re, when Leblanc had opened the door for him thirteen years before. He made an effort to throw off the gloom which the reminis- cence mspired in him, and motioned to the turnkey to proceed. " You will admit me, and then leave us, my good Leblanc." said he. / o , " I must lock the doors aft.r you, as you are aware, M. le marquis." '* Certainly. When I knock, you can let me out again." Leblanc unlocked the ponderous outer and inner doors which separated the landing from the cell, and threw them open. He stood aside for the marquis to pass, and called " A visitor for the fourth Bazinibre." CHAPTER XXVII THE FOURTH BAZINl^RE The marquis found himself in a six-sided room of about eighteen feet diameter and somewhat the same height It had a larg- open fireplace, the chimney of which was ob- structed by heavy iron grids placed at different distances in me Hue. Un the left was a glass casement, opening inwards. This casement gave access to a sort of tunnel about six feet high, which ran through the thickness of the wall—nearly eighteen feet at this point— to the open air. The tunnel was guarded at its outer extremity by an immensely strong iron grating, and a similar grating was placed about half way from the casement. Three steps ascended from the floor of the room to that of the tunnel. This was a model of most of the windows of the Bastille. The room was furnished with a small bed hung with dingy green serge curtains, a table and arm-chair in rather dilapidated condition, a basin and ewer, a large earthen oot h^rT^"""' a orass candlestick in which a lighfed candle was burning, a tm goblet, a broom, tinder-box, and matches, and one or two other conveniences. The temperature of the room ! f ao8 a "Rent Squire "1 '■'tl III up was not uncomfortable. The enormous thickness of the walls of the Bastille was said to temper to a great extent any extremes of heat and cold which might prevail outside, and the masonry, except in the cac/iofs, was always perfectly dry A meagre fire of wood logs burned upon the stone hearth There were rio fire-dogs, tongs, poker, or shovel, these being evidently looked upon as superfluous luxuries ♦k'^/'1,°''''"P1"' °/ *\^ ''°"* ^^^ ^'-^ted '" the arm-chair at the table, reading by the light of his candle. He looked as the door opened and the visitor was announced The marquis saw before him a man of tall 'stature and apparently of great strength. His massive features were pale a pair of brilliant eyes almost disappeared beneath overhanging eyebrows and forehead, and his nose was arched like the beak of an eagle His hair fell upon his shoulders in long, thick w-aves,and his beard rested upon the table. The blackness of hiS hair and eyebrows formed a startling contrast to the pallor of his skin, etiolated by long confinement. He fixed his gaze m expectant silence upon the marquis. The latter bowed, and waited till Leblanc had placed a second candle on the table and closed the door behind him. "I have the honour of speaking to M. Richard Collins?" asked de Torcy. The prisoner rose and bowed. " So I am called, I believe," he said. " Otherwise M. Randolph Dorrington ? " The prisoner made a little movement of surprise and looked inquiringly at the speaker. luuKca "That is my name, sir. It is a long while since I have heard it. "I am sorry M. Dorrington, that I cannot, without in- discretion, introduce myself to you by name. I will, however ask you to believe that I wish you well, and that I have some little power to give effect to my good wishes. If you S "0^°^^*"^'°"' ^ '^^^^d ^'^^ to have a little conversation The prisoner bowed with a certain calm indifference, and motioned with his hand from the bed to the chair "Do me thr favour to be seated, sir," he said. The marquis selected the bed, and the prisoner, after lighting the second candle, resumed his seat at the table. **I may say, monsieur" hecran Hf» Tr^ro,, «*u„«. ;•. .- ,- within the last hour I have learned of your existence, your imprisonment, your supposed offence, and your innocence." r the walls xtent any tside, and fectly dry. le hearth, ese being n-chair at ooked up iture and irere pale, jrhanging the beak >ng, thick slackness 5t to the He fixed 'he latter d candle :ollins ? " a fAcnt Squire i looked I have bout in- lowever, I have If you ersation ce, and lighting 15 only e, your ce." a 09 " My dear sir, you appear to have a good deal the advan- tage of me. Not having been informed of my offence, I do Formerly I not even know whether I am innocent or not used to have a little curiosity on tiie point." " I can explain that in a word, monsieur. Vou were the l^^^r^i ',']! ^^'"^^ ^^94, of a letter sent by colonel Sackville to lord Mcifort, which had been tampered with before it reached his lordship's hands." "Not by me, or to my knowledge." " I am aware of tliat. But you got the credit of it— hence your imprisonment. It was a piece of injustice with which 1 had nothing to do, which I regret profoundly, and which I am here, I hope, to remedy." The prisoner's smile sent a chill to the heart of the marquis. " That is of course quite easy, my good sir. You have only to give me back the seventeen years I have spent between these walls the family and friends to whom I am dead or forgotten the sunshine, the winds of heaven, my man's life and all that I have lost in the world outside by the piece of injustice— which you regret profoundly." '• Your rebuke is quite just, M. Dorrington. But I have come here to do what I can, and no man can do more " Dorrington inclined his head and waited. mon?eu7? '^""^ ^^^'"^ ^"^ ""'"' "'''" y^^"' ™P"sonment, M "l^Ho^on't^h °^ '^''' ^" ^^^ '' ^^ M- ^^ Saint Mars and M. Uujonca there was occasionally a little gossip. Since thev died no one speaks to us. I was told of the dv uhs of kinj James, king W n,,,m, and the king of Spain, aLo about the recomme, ,nent of the war nine years ago. Very little since." over Frn;.T"''^"rr'' '^!," ^""^[""^S' but is, I hope, practically over. France has suffered much in this Ion- contest mainlv through your duke of Marl! orough." ' ^ " He is a duke, is he ? " " f,?^^T^ y^^^s past. Did you know him ? " Shghtly. A d d hound." This description very much inte. -sted the marquis. Ihe seed appears to be already sown," he insen^r'ablf 7JfT\ ^i'f\ '*^1 ^'^^ foster-brothers and Place oId%,-r?-,'' ^ ^^i^r"" ^^°"S^^ "P ^t his father's place— old sir Lionel's, at Helmi^gham. " 14 thought, general 210 a ikent Squire !■! "I regret to inform you that he died soon after your arrival here — in 1694." " I have long since been resigned to all my losses, known and unknown; but you could not have told me of a greater one." "I believe the general was a man of exceptional genius in his profession?" ° " That was the opinion of all good judges, and no one knew It better than Jack Churchill. It was a toss up between the^two for capacity, and there was no third." " Probably there was no love lost between such able rivals ? " hazarded the marquis. nu '^u'^n T^^P'^sh had no ill-feeling in him for anyone. But Churchill had a poisonous jealousy of Talmash : there was no trick he would not have played to get him out of the way." J,- ,r ^<' f The marquis began to feel a little anxious. "I do not say you are right, monsieur," he remarked : "but if you are " ' Dorrjngton rose from his seat, and his mighty bulk mrnacin °''^' ^™'""''^'«^ marquis with a sternness almost " If I am, sir," he said, " you have wasted your time. For seventeen years I have suffered wrong patiently, because it was useless to be impatient. But if you tell me in one hr^^h to nope lor liberty, and in the next to be patient under wrongs a thousandfold greater than I had ever dreamed of-then. sir 1 Say It IS not m human nature to be patient." ' i i m I his chair, 'our visit and der of a life e I learn that :ond, because 16 thought it you are mis- Dubtless soon fQT. All this nine are two possibility — if ly jeopar'^ise treachery of I could not iS with which Dorrington u are hinting cruel wrongs you wish to suggest that to have that arked; "but nighty bulk nness almost r time. For , because it 1 one breath nder wrongs •f — then, sir, a Ikent Squire 2,3 This reply filled the marquis with satisfaction. "Then you refuse," he said, "to accept your release on condition of leavmg M. de Marlborough alone ? " Dorrington sat down again. " I refuse," he said. The marquis cogitated for several seconds, during which Dorrmgton seemed himself busied in thought. " If I set this man free now," reflected de Torcy, "he will go straight to the duke and cut his throat, before there is anv absolute necessity. If I keep him here till necessity arises, he may bungle thmgs through having been so long on the shelf and finding himself entirely out of date about places and people. I think we must compromise matters a little. Let us try some more preaching." "My dear M. Dorrington," he said at length, "I can assure you I had no idea of making any such propo al as yoS suggest. On the other hand, I confess that your conduct °n one respect rather surprises me." ^onuuci in " What is that, sir ? " M"Jf"i[r'^K'^'"^'l^° ^"^^'^'^^ ^ monstrous charge against ato^'telfi^'nge? '''' "P°" ''' ""^"^^^^^^^ --'- '^ - Dorrington looked keenly at the marquis talki!;g^;o1eTh:'"'^'' '^ '''''''' '''''' ^- ^-^^-- were ^ Jhe marquis would have blushed if he had not forgotten " You do me honour," he said. " At the same tim*^ h i. duetto the duke ,ha. such things should nVrsaaTi.hou? " You are right. I was hasty." whiutave sS!^ ' ''"""' ^' *'' """"'"' '""•''>• P™"' of "Does the proof exist?" befor?you"»^' ^' '' °"'^ ^ ^"^'^'°" °^ ''"^^ ^^'^en I can lay it " In what form, may I ask ? " "The letter you carried, of course." Dorrington's eyes flashed, ;; That is enough," said he. " In the meantime " .._.^" ^^^, meantime, my dear M. Dorrington. it .PPm= a nitv uia. you snouiu waste any more time in this place.""""" ^ ^ tremlr^hisvlr "^'" ''^'^ ^^^ ^---' ^'^ ^ ^"S^t i. I i 14 a Ikent Squire ^ "Well, not exactly. To be candid, M. Dorrington, I am so situated that I might get into terribly hot water if you were known to be at large through any action or influence on my part — so much so, indeed, that I must beg of you to understand that I positively refuse to listen to any application that you or anyone else may make for your release. On the other hand " The marquis paused and produced his snuff-box. "Well, sir?" asked the prisoner, in a tone of cold dis- appointment. " On the other hand,"' continued the marquis, leaning forward to offer his snuff-box, " if you were in England, M. Dorrington, to what address would it be convenient to you for me to send M. de Marlborough's letter ? " Dorrington was too much bewildered to accept the proffered courtesy. " What was your usual house of call in London, for in- stance?" asked the marquis urbanely, as he helped himself to a pinch. " Will's Coffee-house," replied Dorrington, in a puzzled tone. " But it may have been closed or burnt down long ago." " I think not," said the marquis, " because a friend of yours, or rather of your family, who has been inquiring after you, gave me that address only a couple of days ago." ** Inquiring after me ? who ? " asked Dorrington in amaze- ment. " M. Ambrose Gwynett, a gentleman of Kent." " I have no recollection of the name. I don't understand it at all." " You had better ask for him at the cafe you speak of." "But you are speaking in riddles, sir." " I will speak in parables for a change. Listen with all your ears, M. Dorrington, while I tell you a little story. A propos, are you familiar with the road between Paris and Vincennes ? " " Yes — that is, as it used to be." " I don't think there is much change. Well, once upon a time you are listening, M. Dorrington ? " " Go on, sir." " Once upon a time there was a prisoner who was confined ill a jUiiiuoo n_t ua Can lu lUc XJclsilhc IL iiUUUCSlCU lllUl IIIIS prisoner was to be removed to another prison — let us say Vincennes. He was told of this intended removal the evening igton, I am Abater if you or influence g of you to ' application se. On the 3f cold dis- uis, leaning n England, •nvenient to he proffered don, for in- ped himself a puzzled down long nd of yours, g after you, )n in amaze- understand ik of." ten with all little story. 1 Paris and )nce upon a as confined tcu iiiui luia -let us say the evening ^1 The Fourth Bazinikre. —Page 211,. i U i''M (■. . 1i '■' !>;; ft ■ ?' 1< : il ! 4 ! I a fkcnt Squire 215 before by a friend, who furnished him with a purse containing —let us see— ten louis in gold." The marquis pulled out a purse of gold, counted ten louis back mto it, put the rest in his pocket, and threw the purse under the bed on which he was sitting. "By some accident or other," he went on, "the carriage broke down on the journey to Vincennes. The prisoner was seated mside with only a turnkey in charge of him. The coachman being occupied with the horses and overturned carriage, the turnkey went to assist him. Curiously enough a horse, ready saddled and bridled, was hitched to the back of the carriage. Probably it was intended for the turn- key to ride back again— I forget exactly. You can ride M. Dorrington?" * 1^' Of course," replied Dorrington under his breath. " By the way, the horse could scarcely have been for the turnkey, because there was a greatcoat strapped to the saddle and a valise containing a passport, fifty louis d'or, scissors' a razor, and various odds and ends. I think there were pistol-holsiers also. No doubt it was for someone going on a journey." Dorrington nodded. " Scissors and a razor are very useful things, M. Dorrington ? " asked the marquis, stroking his clean-shaven jaw and chin. "To a man who might not have shaved lately," replied Dorrmgion, with his eyes fixed on the marquis. " Weil, in the confusion of the moment the prisoner got out of the carriage, seized the horse, galloped ofiF before the turnkey or the coachman could stop him, and made good his escape— possibly to England." "Did not his custodians fire at him? " '= Really I quite forget. Perhaps they did. But I presume the muskets missed fire or something— some people can always miss fire just at the wrong time. Well, I think that is the end of my story, M. Dorrington. Does it interest you ? " The prisoner held out his hand. " I thank you from the bottom of my soul," he said. The marquis rose and grasped the proffered hand. "It is understood that you wait for M. de Mariboroueh's letter before " "I will wait." The marquis knocked on the door. T.eblanc opened it. "I wish you a very good evening, monsieur," said th* marquis negligently, as he turned towards the door ! < r «< 'lf,i i' < 216 S Ikent Squire ♦• I am obliged for your visit, sir," replied Dorrington in a formal tone. The door closed and the prisoner was left alone. About ten minutes elapsed before the marquis and Leblanc emerged into the archive-room. The turnkey's fingers caressed certain louis d'or in his breeches pocket as they crossed the Grande Cour to the drawbridge. "You may depend upon me, M. le marquis," he said earnestly. m t , il; n iii mi CHAPTER XXVIII SETTLING THINGS The lieutenant du roi, whose presence was necessary for the opening of the gate and the raising of the drawbridge, escorted the marquis uack to the Cour du Gouvernement, and was invited by de Bernaville to join the supper-table. Then the marquis appeared to recollect something. '' Peste! my dear governor, it has just occurred to me that M. d'Argenson is expecting me. I quite forgot I had an appointment with him this evening;" The governor looked very much disappointed. *| Is it urgent, M. le marquis ? " he asked plaintively. " Well, no — if I could only have given him notice. But I think I must send him a line to say I cannot possibly come." " That is well. I will have it sent at once," said de Berna- ville, recovering his cheerfulness and opening an escritoire for the marquis. "Not at all, my dear de Bernaville. My coachman has nothing to do, and he will get there sooner." The marquis sat down and wrote : " My dear d'Argenson, I must see you to-night— say in an hour and a half, DE TORCY." This was duly despatched by M. de Torcy's coachman, and the party sat down to supper, "You had a long chat \Wth the fourth Bazinibre, M. le marquis," observed the lieutenant du roi. "Yes; he is a rare gossip, I thought he could have en- lightened me about some old scandals that have cropped up Bi'U rington in a and Leblanc :ey's fingers ket as they is," he said isary for the drawbridge, avernement, lupper-table. g- rred to me rgot I had ely. :ice. But I \y come." 1 de Berna- 1 escritoire chman has a half. : ToRCY." ;hman, and ^re, M. le 1 have en- Topped up t a fjcnt Squire 217 again lately, but it was after his time. I think you said he was a ten livre man, M. de Bernaville ? " •' He is. There are two more on that scale." " M. Desmarets and I have been talking about overhauling the tariff lately. You will regret to hear that, my dear governor ; but our expenses are enormous. I really can't imagine why this fourth Baziniere was ever put on the ten livre list. I see nothing in the case for anything over five livres, whatever your other two may be." "Our own expenses are not light," said the governor, who began to feel alarmed. "Well, I think it is the governor of Vincennes who has occasion to grumble. Whom are you sending him ? " " I had not decided," replied de Bernaville. " But if there is any chance of the fourth Baziniere being cut down to five livres, that settles it — he shall go." " I think you are very prudent, my dear de Bernaville," said the marquis. " If I recollect right, a prisoner is usually removed in charge of the turnkey of his tower ?" " That is so," put in the lieutenant. " Naturally he knows more about him. Leblanc, whom you saw, has the Baziniere." "A very trustworthy fellow, I should judge," said the marquis- " Have you a special coach on these occasions ? " " Necessarily— with shutters. We hire one, as the need arises so very seldom." "Why go to that expense? I really think d'Argenson ought to lend you one of his. He must have half a dozen." " I never thought of that," said the governor, who saw his way to a little economy in this arrangement. " But he may say it is not his department." "Well, I suppose he would be right. But you may use my name in the matter, my dear governor; d'Argenson's bark is always worse than his bite." "I will certainly do as you suggest, M. le marquis." Supper was eventually over, and the marquis took his leave. " Between ourselves, my dear de Bernaville," he said con- fidentially at parting, "Desmarets will certainly reduce that fourth Baziniere to the five livre list. For my part, I don't know why the deuce we keep such people at all." The sieur Nicolas Desmarets was the controller-general of finances. " I am immensely obliired to vmi fnr thf^ hint m ]p. marquis." As soon as the carriage was out of the Rue St. Antoine I t ^ I Hi i • ' arj Vi '-4 2i8 a "Rent Squire the marquis told the coachman to drive to the hdtel of the heutenant-general of police. M. d'Argenson was at home cSurtyard."''"''^"" ""^"^ '"' ^^^ ''^"'"^^ '^'""'"^^ >" ^^^^ Half an hour afterwards the hall-door opened and the two mmisters appeared upon the threshold. laughing. '' '^'^''^""^ demoralising, marquis," said d'Argenson, '' /"es^e/ my dear comte, think of the economy. Ten livres a day comes lo three thousand six hundred and fifty livres :Jr7a7roTfoJ' ''' ^'^ '''''' "^ ^•^^«^'^- -"fi^-^-' .JTf "V'^^^'" '"u"''^^ '^ somehow " replied the lieutenant- general of police as he shook hands with the marquis The next morning M. de Torcy entered the king's cabinet at Versailles at his usual hour. "Sire," he said, as soon as they were alone, "does your majesty happen to recollect a little conversation we had on king^orspa^nf"'''"'''"^ '^''* ''"''" ^'"""^ ^'' "^^^'''y '^^ " What about it ? ' asked the king. "We spoke of what was to be done if M. de Marlborough took our money and played us false after all." " It was you who spoke of it, marquis." "Perhaps so, sire. I believe I expressed a desire to find somebody who would be just fool enough to attempt what might be necessary, and not fool enough to fail " ;|I do not listen to these things, marquis," said the king. Very good, sire. But I think I have found our fool." h6tel of the IS at home, ned in the md the two d'Argenson, Ten livres fifty livres confidential lieutenant- is. ig's cabinet ' does your we had on lajesty the arlborough sA BOOK III Z\)c Htfair at tbe * Crown an^ Bncbor* ire to find ;mpt what J king, fool." ■19 !< B Ikent Squire tai CHAPTER XXIX THE DUKE IN LONDON On the night of the departure of the Mermaid ^nA the Fieur de Lys from Scheveningen a terrific hurricane arose in the Enghsh Channel and swept over the North Sea. The Afer/nn'd was obliged to run before the gale for a couple of days, aiid only made the mouth of the Thames with the greatest difficulty Nothing had been seen of the Fleur de Lys, and lord Marl- borough was assured by the captain of the Mermaid that the brig might have been driven to make for the Elbe or the Frith of Forth. The duke was therefore in a fever of anxiety when, on November 17th, he landed at Greenwich. Here he was met by a party of the Whig oppo'-tion, in.- pressed to associate himself with the great political demonstra- tion to br hciu hat day in London, when the ministers were to be c^ alienged after hostile processions through the city by a gn at burnin in effigy of the pope, the devil, and the Pretende., a.tenue.i as a test of popular feeling in the matter of the Pro :iiru succession. This, with his usual caution he excused nimself from doing, and went instead to wait upon the queen at Hampton Court, partly with the idea of recovering some of his lost influence with Anne, and partly to try and secure her promised contribution towards the completion of his palace of Blenheim, near Woodstock. The queen had undertaken, not only to build, but to furnish, this edifice • but of late the contractors had not been paid, and were in consequence pressing their claims upon the duke in person Nothing satisfactory, however, came of the interview, and the duke returned very much annoyed to Marlborough House To this meeting-place all the Whig magnates resorted to discuss the political situation with their leader, whose personal interests were so much mixed up with their own. A fortnight passed in continuous conference with the Jacobite agents, the disaffected or weak-kneed Tory peers, and the representatives of the allied powers on the continent. These were, as has been said earlier, van Buys and baron von Bothmar. the envoys of the States -General and the elector; baron von Kreyenberg, the Hanoverian resident; and the comte de v^alas, tile ambassador of the emperor of Germany The duke's position was critical. The whole forces of the triumphant Tories were in the field against him. An army i 222 „!'- 1. 1 ;i 1 i' j i 1 t a IRent Squire aljle peace, and it was an open secret that sweepinc charires armv ?'' h" '" '^™"'="i<'" ""h the administration of The army were be.ng prepared against him. A large and comnlrf raajomy m the Commons was ready to vote hfs imnMSfi^ ttelVSTf "« °P^"'"8 of parliaLntJand withTle e"cep =^/tsStr„°^^tIesth7w^^^^^^^^ :itriSy°;y''°,:^pS3^'we''s„^r'? ^^^^^^ foT his": P-^°f -'Pon wL'tXtdi^at^eV o llista" J^^'toTcu^'t^e ™?estf'„^:/y-^ ve°Xtt£l r o"pprtir'7de*^;/i!;?e" iSe i: ^-r ''™«'" ? torra?r^°"^- -" '^^ «- «n "afpe^S ■•' S innuendo the duke resented with his usual w?Th„f ^ of the ministeriaip^rfidy ° " ""^ ^'^' m denunciations The most obviously convenient way of damaging the govern- »> H Ikeut Squire 22 ' an honour- )ing charges tion of the md compact npeachment the excep- mpromising lig majority ily he dealt lis juncture ;o his fears le sums in ibers of the strengthen n urgently i promised of the war ories only were more ry to their om day to 3ughs, her Hanover), e secretly chevalier ;ue at this as much lose chief id seemed [eanwhile, Jonent of Catholic 's speech, ough was the arts ime were 2." This of pious ! habitual inciations e govern- ment was to insist that the intended peace involved a dis- graceful surrender of all the objects for which Great Britain had contended during ten years of brilliantly successful war Therefore the Whig majority in the Lords, reinforced by an mfluential Tory deserter in the person of the earl of Nottingham moved an addition to the address, which represented " that no peace could be safe or honourable to Great Britain or Europe should Spain and the Indies be continued in anv branch of the house of Bourbon." This proposal was followed by a venomous debate, in which the whole weight of the government was employed against the Whigs. The duke amazed his friends and delighted his enemies by throwing aside all his wonted diplomacy and attacking the peace policy of the Tories with unsparing bitter- ness. Finally the address, with its addition, was carried bv sixty-one votes to fifty-five, and p' isented to her majesty on December nth. j / • The queen and her ministers had long before secretly agreed with Louis XIV. to recognise the sovereignty of his grandson, the king of Spain, to oppose which had been the sole object of the \yar. Nevertheless, in her reply to the address she remarked ''that she should be sorry that anyoneshouM IIT.U 'rV^% "'^"^^ "°' ^° ^^' "^'^^^^t t° recover Spain and the Indies from the house of Bourbon." This reply foiled for a moment the tactics" of the Whies in parliament, and they resumed their intrigues outside of it It was the common talk that the States-General and the elector 'Trr i ? f °"' \^'^' ^" °^^^^ *° ^^P^^t the coup J'aTof 1688 and to depose the queen. ^ r^i^h^T'if ^t' ^^^ ^"™osity of the Tories threatened to over- each itself by Its very virulence. They freely threatened to behead the duke if his reported purchase of eight mn?steria° votes was proved, and ^ pestered the queen so persSent v to remove from office the Whig duke of Somerset, ma er of the horse, that her majesty became quite annoyed. Having been present at the debate in the Lords on December rctli she T.if' "u '^°'" ^'^'^ ^y the Tory duke of Shrewsburv whether she would prefer being escorted out of the Hou e bv himself, as lord chancellor, or by lord Lindsay, as hereditarj frroflhT'd^ Of s'oLVs^ ^ ''-'-' '^'' -^ -^ "e This news was all over the town in an hnnr Th« t • thai for a week past he had declared the queen was ,»t ," 224 H fseut Squire fit h 1 t ■■ 1 lil>' ( i'. ! Hi'. be relied on Lord Oxford smoothed her maiestv doWn hv avernng that he had not the least desire to Sve Somerset or his duchess from court, and the lord chancellor wSit to call upon Marlborough with overtures of friend shin The As a matter of fact, the duke was in the middle of » cnttcal mtemew with the comte de Galas. The ambass^do? was pressing upon Marlborough the identinl n7o,f„.v "k-^k t" ''', "^ ■l^'^y '" « co»e Ltion w h lS X v" which has already been reported to the reader ThTwas to promise to assume command of the imperial forces to clr^ on the war between the empire and France for the recove^ fs^p^irpS^e^h' ^ "^ifco^Zd^lTF^ viou.y mooted the proposal, a„d\\Vnrur^Si;"det:Xg jusS, r?uirinte"n^^5 ^oXr his'liS to^^de-^-T '""' ^^^ ^o^.^^'X,°Lc^ai^£ES pertulTf ^'ile^pS ""^ '''^ '>-'"™ < ^EngT/nd' J^s final answer to the ambassador's overtures ^ * " iraSirof ^/mp:r,^Tich°^Td"S^'eT"\- Th^ means of his being deported from En^ b^^ne mSstr; SZ ,«T"«'">' """'' annoyed at Marlborough\T™ver' ""°rdlt:r;?.ri;^^';!,.!;'.^?!-"-.nociut»'''" definite reply ,o our suggestions. We are liable at any sty down by >ve Somerset llor went to Iship. The iply engaged niddle of a ambassador proposition -ouis XIV., This was to :es to carry he recovery concluding n fact, pre- demanding To do him > de Torcy IS devoured ? Z,ys, now ccount the torn of the he might, career for igland was inquire at ver Street Street) for result, and ne errand, I'one else, ming, the I giving a ?nce and been the ministry. 3 tergiver- :lue. urge that receive a e at any H -Rent Squire 225 moment to be confronted with the virtual conclusion of a separate peace on the part of lord Oxford, and it is of the utmost consequence that even before that juncture we shou'd know exactly upon whom we may rely." ^ "With all deference, my dear comte," replied the duke, 1 ditter from you as to the imminence of peace between this country and France. Even if it were otherwise, I do not feel that I am sufficiently informed as to the probable policy of the elector and the States-General to justify me m assuming so serious a responsibility." As both Buys and von Bothmar, to say nothing of Kreyenberg, were furious for the continuation of the war this argurnent of the duke's failed to impress the ambassador. ' My dear duke," he retorted, "the enthusiasm of our respected allies is as great as it ever was." ul^.^^r^ no doubt of that," replied Marlborough. "But hitherto Great Britain has paid for that enthusiasm, my dear comte, which makes all the difference. In the fu tire it ap- pears that their enthusiasm will have to be its own reward " 1 he ambassador began to lose his temper. Then, duke, I see' very little use in prolonging our con- versation. I shall, with regret, report to my imperial master that we must make other arrangements." This was not what the duke desired. " Other arrangements " rneant simply that prince Eugfene would at once be offered IcceST 'tHp^' emoluments at present open to his own acceptance. I he prince was the last man in the world to fnarSs ''hurif h™ '° P"°"'^ °^"'" ^'^ ^^^ companion- nlil^ \ 1 A,,- • ''•'^'■^ appointed generalissimo of the to hL. ^"'"''u'.' ^°"'^ ^^ unreasonable to expect hir^ duke mT.ht Z '^'" P°''''°" '^f ^^^^^^ '"^^^'y ^^^^"«e th^ ^.K ^^} ?r 1 occasion to change his mind. On the other hand if he violated his promise to de Torcy tha? worthy diplomatist would at once publish his treachery aU t'heFr!nrT'-f ^ '^^ '^'^ nlrtun^t. convTct.onVa morf than ^fT'' unsupported statement would be worth hZt tTJ-^ °"^''^ 'i""8 ""^ «^*h« o" his own part. In Deonle M. T"^ "° ^°"^''^'' ^^ ^^'"^ '"^^^d out than other people. Meanwhile it was evident that the ambassador's patience was exhausted, and the duke could sS-irce y see his way to avoid being cornered. At this moment C^r^lr.^^ JtriocK was heard at the door " ~ and ^hrcall^d" t^'n'^r'"'' "^^ ^^^' '°"^^^'" ^^'^ ^^^ duke, ana he cahed to the secretary to enter. Cardonnel came i!!l 226 a ment Squire I I- ■i J Hi in, laid a slip of paper on the table, and waited. On the slip was written : "Fkur de Lys reported at Lloyd's off the Tower* The duke gave a great sigh of relief. ''Send a messenger in a coach to bring the captain back with him. at once," he said to Cardonnel. The secretary retired, and the duke turned to Galas. My dear cornte," he said, "believe that 1 am fully sensible of the honour done me by his majesty in all that you have laid before me. But I have the strongest feeling that only actual danger to the integrity of the present possessions of his imperial majesty would justify me, before the eves of my countrymen, in taking the field against France if Great Britain itself were at peace." ''That is not the point in the least," cried the exasperated ambassador. Nobody supposes the empire has a French invasion to fear. The thing is ridiculous " ^^ "Precisely so, my dear cornte," said the duke soothingly At the same time, you can see for yourself that such a contingency would be my sole valid excuse for acceptine his majesty's very flattering offer." ^ ^ y That is equivalent, duke, to a refusal." " Do not say so, my dear cornte. I only suggest that the occasion for my services appears very unlikely to ^ise. When It does, we can resume our conversation." The comte rose in a rage. " My offer will not be repeated, duke-let that be clearly ' yes'T^no ' f'^ '""^"^ '''""' ^°^ ''''• ^" ' ^°^^' ''' '^ reject! ^""^^ '°'^ ""'^^ *^'^ ^^"""^"'^ P°''^^^^ expression of " If you put it that way, my dear comte, I am sorry that It IS out of my power to say 'yes'" "That settles the matter, duke.' I have the honour to wish you a very good mornir;'." The ambassador hurried to the door, banged it after nim and disappeared. The duke sat down with a cheerful smile! "nniV.K '" '' '^,°"^ ^"^^ ^" ^ ^"sh," he soliloquised : and the emperor was always a shocking paymaster " He occupied himself with his nnn^rc .,«<;i ^u^ j ,, carriage-Wheels was heard in the courtyard. The door opened and Cardonnel appear .d, looking rather puzzled. :* ^ t vaited. On the )wer. le captain back ) Galas. m fully sensible that you have eling that only possessions of re the eyes of 'ranee if Great the exasperated has a French nke soothingly. If that such a • accepting his Jggest that the 3 arise. When a Ikcnt Squire 227 " The captain is here, your grace," he said, " but " wavf'of thrhanT'" "'""^^"' ''' '"'^' "^^'^ ^" ^"^^^^^^^ Cardonnel went out and beckoned to someone in the hall Come m, captain," he said. An elderly seafaring man entered, pulled his forelock, and stood lookmg at the duke with a good deal of curiosity It was not Kermode. ^ Marlborough looked at him speechlessly for a moment. Who are you ? " he asked. dez7" Curwen, your honour-skipper of-the schooner J^/eur ^.xiu''^"i!]^ suspicion began to dawn upon the duke. II What F/eur de Lys ? " he asked. ''^eur de Lys of Gravesend, your honour." The duke fell back in his arm-chair as if shot. Whats to do, your honour?" asked the sailor, comin? forward sympathetically. ' commg K '^^t "^S^ ^'^'^'^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^'■^O'' ^nd seemed to gasp for breath. Then a torrent of imprecations burst from hi ^lips sktper SI ?. T T"" '''' '" ^''^ ''''^ ^^^^ 'he woSy Skipper boltea to the door, tore across the hall, and was out tl^tr r '"^ l"""'"S "P Pa" Mall at his top' speed before ;h:ir^mS to x^r ■;r ^^^^^ ^^- ^ ^-^^ - -n o;;: that be clearly n a word, is it expression of am sorry that he honour to 1 it after nim, 2erful smile. ! soliloquised; 3ter." t-Ur^ -- 1 _A itiC OUUIJU UI door opened, CHAPTER XXX CHKCKMATE A DAY or two after the duke's interview with the comte dc^ Sa^^ ^Se:; :^ p^- V^ (S r i^r throu'ghLoSon WsvavTh."' '°"^' °^^°"' P^^^'"^ by post throueh Sa^isb rv -H ],h^•l°"'•"ey was accomplished thic ol;Td V -- ^ r ■^''^'^'■' ^"^ ^as considered nf characte;: ' "' '" ^^P^^'t.on of quite an adventurous As the squire was a Whig of the deepest dye. it required a If ■ ■ T I. I; m1' li :i m!: 228 H Ikcnt Squire httle diplomacy on the part of the secretary to answer the innumerable questions put to him by Avice and Noel without coming t> loggerheads with his elder guest, more especially as the public interest in the political crisis of the hour almost excluded other topics of conversation. On the last day of their stay the young people wished to hear a debate in parliament, a^d the intense interest excited bv the contest between the Whigs and the court on the qvxHon ->f the Hamiltoti peerage suggested the belection of the Hovse of Lords fos the purpose of a visit. rhis was on the 20th of Uecemljer. The ;tree'r, in the neighbouroood of St. Stephen's were alive w-'-h pager politicians, canvassing the probable results of the party struggle, and the House of Lords, together with the galleries and other p:".r,^s opet:. t-.; strangers, was crowded to incon- venience, ihis interested Avice immensely. "Explain the whole matter '.o us, Mr. St. John/' she had said comprehensively, as they were driving down to the House. " What is it all about ? " ,u "/' '^ % question of prerogative," replied St. John, having the fear of the squire before his eyes. "The queen has just cr-ated a peerage, which the Whig party in the House of Lords refuse to recognise. She has made lord Hamilton >-iao is a duke m the peerage of Scotland) duke of Brandon m the peerage of Great Britain." " I don't see why," said Avice. " I think Hamilton is the prettier name of the two." "I will tell the duke what you say. But his grace sits in the Lords at present as one of the sixteen representative peers of Scotland, under the Act of Union of 1705. As duke of Brandon, if the Lords recognise the patent, he will sit as a peer of Great Britain in his own right." "Will he get a more comfortable seat in that case ?" asked Noel with gravity. " There isn't a comfortable seat in the building," said St John feelingly. "I have never had a decent nap since I have been in parliament." " I don't understand why he should want to sit as duke of Brandon, any more than why any one should want to stop " It makes all the difference," explained the secretary. " If he can sit by his own right, the Scotch neers m.n elect arc-h^ man in his place as one of their representatives." "^'^"^ " Why shouldn't they ? ' asked Avice. H Ikeut Squire 229 to answer the id Noel without re especially as he hour almost the last day of r a debate in by the contest iictior,. of the the House of streets in the e wJth eager of the party h the galleries ^ded to incon- ohn," she had down to the John, having lueen has just the House of ord Hamilton e of Brandon amilton is the i grace sits in representative 05, As duke 2 will sit as a case ? " asked ing," said St. ; nap since I it as duke of want to stop cretary. '• If '* You see our party " '• You Tories, I presume," put in the squire. " We Tories are in a minority of about half a dozen in the Lords, and consequently our big majority in the Commons is only of use to us in money matters. Ill-natured people pretend that the Brandon patent is simply intended to squeeze an extra Scotch Jacobite into the House to strengthen our own muster-roll. They argue that it is only the thin end of the wedge, and that half a dozen patents of the same sort would extinguish our opponents' majority. For myself, I don't understand mathematics." " Of course it would,'' said Avice innocently. " Another thing they say," proceeded the secretary, covering a yawn, " is that the bulk of these Scotch peerages are so mfernally ancient, and the holders so infernally poor, that we of the court could always find an excuse for turning a Scotch peer into an English one, and always find means to buy his vote afterwards. This is a censorious world, mistress A vice." " But I presume, sir," remarked Noel, " that there must be some legal or constitutional arguments on both sides." " Good Lord ! " ejaculated the secretary, " of course there are— enough to sicken one. Don't ask me to bore you with theni now. You'll hear quite as much as you can stand in the House. Here we are." The carriage stopped at Westminster Hall, and the party were escorted to their seats by St. John. The lord chancellor had just taken his seat on the woolsack, and the proceedings were commencing. *^ v-umga The Tory counsel, at the bar of the House, argued for about rfh^ ?Ik' '" an unspeakably dreary monotone, that the right of the sovereign to select the person of a new peer of Great Britain had no limitation, and that it would be monstrous It a bcotch representative peer were the only kind of Scotch- man whom the sovereign could not honour. During these speeches the House half emptied, and the squire slumbered as peacefully as circumstances would permit Ihen there came a sudden rush of members a buzz of excitement, and St. John whispered over Avice's shoulder. The queen is coming in." an?to^;?^^i^J fZ'"' !^"5r'' "^ '""""^' attendance, and exchanged c"omments'ti[h''he? from Timt°to time. The temper of the House rose, and the Oppo^ion f 230 a Ikent Squire seemed to resent the presence of the sovereign as an attempt to overawe them. The Whig counsel were now heard. These urged that the sovereign could not override the Act of Parliament which constituted the Union, and which expressly limited the Scotch peers to sixteen seats in the House of Lords, to be filled by election; and they pointed out that for Scotch peers to enter the House by any mode except that of election was to violate the express intention of the Act by giving the Scotch peers the double privilege of being present once in their own persons and again in those of their representatives. In the debate which followed, at which the queen remained present, the Whig lords gave free utterance to the additional considerations at which St. John had hinted, and the Jacobite peers resented the charges with all the rancour that might have been expected. The division was prepared for with the full consciousness on both sides that the result was a matter of life and death for the Opposition. Finally, amidst unexampled excitement, the votes of the assembled peers were demanded from the woolsack. As a result, the House refused by fifty-seven votes against fifty-two to recognise the Brandon patent. The queen left the House in a fury at the success- ful attack on her prerogative. From this time it was war to the knife between the court and the duke of Marlborough's party. " Between ourselves, my dear Mr. St. John," said Noel as they left the House, " what will this end in ? " " My dear boy," said the secretary, with a momentary seriousness, " it means a revolution — of one sort or another. Only, as yet, I am not quite sure from which side it will come. I am rather glad that you are all going out of town. I will see you off in the morning — good-bye for the present." The secretary, after sending his friend 5 home, went to fulfil an engagement to dine with lord Oxforu and afterwards hear read the draft report of the commissioners of public accounts, which was to be presented to the House of Commons the following day. These functionaries were Messrs. Lockhart and Shippen, both Tories and Jacobites, and it was Mr. Lockhart whom the ministers were expecting. St. John, as usual, attacked his colleague's claret with a vigour and per- severance which threatened to diminish considerably his utility as a critic. Oxford himself was a distressingly ab- stemious companion, and never quite knew whether it was a Ikent Squire 231 1 as an attempt : urged that the rliament which lited the Scotch ds, to be filled Scotch peers to election was to ang the Scotch ice in their own ves. queen remained • the additional nd the Jacobite :our that might pared for with le result was a Finally, amidst bled peers were House refused se the Brandon at the success- ne it was war Marlborough's " said Noel as a momentary lort or another, ch side it will going out of •od-bye for the ;, went to fulfil ifterwards hear ublic accounts, Commons the :ssrs. Lockhart id it was Mr. St. John, as igour and per- tusiderably his istressingly ab- ^hether it was more politic to abet or discourage his colleague's bibulous tendencies. Finally, Mr. Lockhart was announced, and brought with him a formidable sheaf of papers. "^ " I am sorry, gentlemen," he said, "to be so late. But the accounts are excessively complicated." " You have everything complete now ? " asked Oxford. "Everything. Of course the most important items arise out of the depositions of Medina and Machado. But we haVe also noted the complaints in the memorials to her majesty forwarded from the Low Countries, although they are not dealt with in our official report." This rather tickled St. John. " \\ nat do the Dutchmen say, my dear fellow ? " he inquired. " It is rather amusing to find them able to open their mouths at last." " One of the memorials is from Ghent, complaining of the extortionate contributions levied by general Cadogan on behalf of the duke in return for their protection." " What did the duke get out of them ? " asked Oxford. " Six thousand pistoles," replied Lockhart, referring to his memoranda. "What next?" Then we have the affair of the treasonable surrender of Ghent and Bruges to the French by the city magistrates." " Do they lay that to the duke and Cadogan / " " Yes— but the memorial fails to adduce any adequate proof What they do prove is that the duke, after the recapture of the two cities, was bribed by the magistrates to continue them in office." " How much ? " "Cadogan received 10,000 pistoles as go-betweea. The duke himself received 200,000 guilders. There are a lot of other little things." After all, this is neither here nor there, Mr. Lockhart. Come to the contracts. What does Medina's statement amount to?" Sir Solomon Medina had been the contractor for bread and bread-waggons to the allied army between 1707 and 17 11 having been preceded in that capacity by one Antonio Alvarez Machado. Medina had recognised that his G;,portunities of making profit on these contracts were nearly, if not quite, exuausteu, ana was now posing as a virtuous witness against his patron the duke. ^ "He says," replied Lockhart, "that from 1707 down to ■ i3» a Ikeiit Squire I! a If 11 I'- The same thing more or this last autumn he paid the duke personally ,« 428 cuilder .n gratifications, besides one per cent, on all moneys pafdo the duke's deputy at Amsterdam. Mr. Sweet-togeSier wfth tie vl ZJTT ""'^T' °' ^'''^ y^^^'y- Cai JonneT was p1^ 500 ducats on each contract." ^ " Is that all ? " *' As far as Medina is concerned. less v^ ' ■ rase with Machado." t^r''*^ ^^^^^ ^° y°" ""'^^^ out ? " ''\ r ""'^^ *^^^ '" ^^^ t<^" years of the war the duke has '"' cfod Lord r''>'°"^ c^'^'^^r guilders and 4 s "ers" '«fhn..f^ . • remarked St. John, with vinous solemnity those four stivers make the thing very serious-are you au te sure about them, my dear fellow ? » ' ^ "^ Oxford looker''.: ind took up a pen. ^^ bo that in .ceriing," he asked, " that would be ? " ;663,3i9 y. 7^.," replied Lockhart. "Besides the con tracts there IS a separate question of two and a half per cenT which the duke has certainly deducted from »iih5 passing through his hands for fhe ^lytf'th'for^V'^^^^^^^^^ .. Say ;^i 00.000 altogether." said Oxford. are thockinl'"'" vf "^^/^ ^'^ J?-^"* " ^"' ^^^^^^ ^«"r stivers are shock mg ! Ye gods and little fishes! to think Tack Churchill should condescend to pocket four stivers " And the secretary shook his head sorrowfully ^""^ warned to g1;^roTe7 ''' '"^' ^" ^'^^^ ^^ — -^^ ^^^ Of ;i^^^:^^ ^'^|:ii^?£^^!— "--'"^ -- togedfer.'" '"'''°" P"' °" ' ''^ ^'°^'^' ^"^ g^^he-^ ^is papers ''Everything depends upon the Lords, I suppose?" he siid ^e^i keofhl^^' '"' '°^^' -q-ingi;^f ^Ld' B^ be dravvn ^ '°""'''' '"^ ^'^ "°^ rernnt himself to |- Good night. Mr. L ockhart," he said. Good n.gh^ my dear feliow," echoed St. John. "For 132,428 guilder meys paid to the her with twelve jnnel was paid thing more or r the duke has nd 4 s' vers." ous solemnity, -are you quite »e ? " sides the con- half per cent, all the money :ign regiments j^4o,ooo." se four stivers 3 think Jack ivers ! " And ecessary, jnd f further, M- can be pre but it will be is grace will iwering some jd his papers ie?" he said )xford. But it himself to ohn. •' For a Ikcnt Squfrc 233 heaven's sake o 't let there be any mistak(; about those four stivers. I am g g too, Bob— pleasant dreams." A footman ass sted the bibulous secretary downstairs to his S'outi'd back,"'" '""*"« '■-■ '"""'='' "-""Shtfully, and " I say. Bob ! what the deuce is a stiver ? " But as lord Oxford was by this time out of hearin- Mr. S . John resumed '-S descent to the hall, and stumbled into his carnage. As he did so, the duke of Marlborough's coach drove past. St John yelled to the coachman to lop, and the rurhis^?dt?oTtrwSt ^^^^'^"^ '^^^^"^- ^'^ ^"^^ •• wLatM Z m"te'V'°'"'" '^ ""'' ^^^°^"'^'"g ^^^ ^^^-y' "Jack !" hiccupped St. John reproachfully, "they've caught you pocketmg four stivers. I blush for you You^ll hea a about It to-morrow." ^ «uunnearaii ^nl"^^^rt^^°" ^°'"u-^'; ^^^"'"g. niy dear friend," returned the duke, withdrawmg his head. "Heaven bless you! Good night," said the secretary leanmg bac. on the cushions and going to sleep '^"^^'y' The next day the commissioners presented their report to the Commons and another storm of political passionCe The duke and his friends made no attempt to deny the charts assertion that the various perquisites in connection with the Suke's 'timrh "'" h^' '^^'^"^-'^^ ^"^^°- '°"g before he duke s time, having been sanctioned to all previous com manders-in-chief, and that the money really consltuted the secret service fund necessary for the campigns 1 reVrds the appropriation of the two and a half per c?nt. from thfpav tt Sueenirthel'T'^' *'^ '"'^^ P^^ ''^^^ ^ warLt fr'on' the queen in the first year of ner reign, assignii r to him the percentage m question '« for extraordin!r; con^ngent expenses " Although these grounds of defence were nof controverted tne mmistry w th the pretext necessary foi aking their final steps against the duke and his party majority in^he Lords que'erima'ated'tLt '^' ^ ^^l ^^^ ^^^^' ^" ^^ich'the queen latm ated that certain charges Wng been maH^ ^h^^tiJ^'V'^' -' Marlborough, shf lu.i resoTved to di-S fimi .xom . . nis employments, in order that beine no om^r 834 a Ikent Squire 1 1 ill All through the night of December 30th the Whig leaders sat deliberating at Marlborough House. A hint of the pro ceedings at the {)rivy-council had reached the conclave late m the evening, and it was recognised that affairs had come to a crisis. The duke's chief supporters— lord , Godolphin, Sunderland, Somers, Cowper, Halifax, and others— were com- promised in the higiiest degree by their resistance to the ministry and the court, and they were prepared to resort to force rather than be crushed. It was proposed to take instant advantage of the fact that the duke's commission was under the great seal, and that thei.fore his mere dismissal by the queen had no legal effect. They therefore urged him to use his powers as lord-general to anticijwte attack, by asseml.ling all the troops m London in the different squares, taking possession of St. James's, and securing the person of the queen. This could easily be done under the pretext of suppressing a pretended Jacobite rising, and of safe-guarding the sovereign against the dangers of a revolt in the capital. The duke listened to these propositions, but arrived at no decision. Hour after hour went by as one plan afur another was mooted, discussed, and abandoned. The duke passed to and fro between the council-room and the boudoir of duchess oarah, whose rage against the queen and Mrs. Masham knew no bounds, and who would have precipitated a revolution with the greatest goodwill if she could have thereby gratified her resentment against her late mistress. The night wore away and the last day of the year 171 1 arrived. With the first dawn of morning a couple of letters were placed in the duke's hands. The first of these had been written after the privy-council at St. James's the previous night. It was in the queen's own handwriting, and informed him that she had no further occasion for his services. The second was from lord Melfort in Paris. It ran : "MV DEAR LORD ChURCHILL, We have just heard quite by accident that the messenger Randolph Dornngton, whom you will recollect in connection with the Brest expedition, has eiTected his escape while beinc transferred from the Bastille to Vincennes, and canr.ot be traced. It will be well for you therefore to be on your gL-ard. Melfort.'' The duke started at this new blow. He passed the letter to the duchess with a glance of suppressed anxiety Whig leaders \t of the pro conclave late irs had come i» Godolphin, s — Were com- tance to the 1 to resort to the fact that cal, and that lad no legal s powers as ill the troops •ossession of queen. This oppressing a the sovereign arrived at no after another duke passed ! boudoir of Mrs. Masham i a revolution reby gratified le year 17x1 3le of letters ese had been the previous nd informed rvices. The 16 messenger in connection e while being id cannot be a your gt-ard, Melfort.'' id the letter a IFccnt Squire 235 "Pooh!" said the duche.s carelessly. •' People have forgotten all that." ^ rull^ TtI'^ ^^f^f ^° ^''"S '' ^" "P «gain." said the duke. ^^ It would be worth a dozen contract reports to " Yes, if there were any proof. But there is nothing except his man s word-if so much. And it can always be said to be a malignant invention of Harley's. Think no more about It. And the duchess tore the letter into shreds. Nevertheless the duke's brow remained clouded. Years ago the betrayal of Russell and Talmash had passed from his recollection and there seemed something ominous in the shadow of this old treason falling across his path on this day of all others. He went back to the council-room, where a straggling breakfast was being partaken of by his colleagues At ten o'clock a special messenger arrived from the Treasury Oxford had got wind of the council of war at Marlborough House, and suspected something of what was transpiring theie He had hastily summoned a cabinet meeting to deal with he emergency on the instant. As a result, the messenger brough a formal dismissal of the duke, under the great seal from all his appointments. ^ ' The conspirators were paralysed by this stroke. Instead pL. K? everything in the army, the duke was now nothing. llnH 7k ^" f"''!''^'" ''^' ""^''^^y '"^t^'led in command Under these altered circumstances, the slightest attempJa force would not only be high treason and open rebelhSifbu would mvolve the instant despatch of the perpetrators to the Tower Marlborough's characteristic political timidit? so anvT fhtT'"'' ""'^ his limitless courage in the field, ^ade Thl w? d'sc^ss'o^' of the proposed programme useless The Whig magnates took their leave one by one, consoling hemselves with the fact that their numerical major tys?i 11 lef? whT'"'???"' f '^' "°"^^ "^ Lords, and res^fveS [hat he whole political power should be used to repel the attack on their illustrious colleague. Godolphin, Oxford's predecessor as lord-treasurer and the dukes most intimate friend, was the last peer to leave the concave. He recommended Marlborough ?o reman wit^n doors, and promised to bring him any fresh newT ^ As the earl passed out of the council-rnnm a^^n^^^ u.. v^ardonnei, a footman came up to Marlborough. ^^ "' My lord, a man wishes to see you on most oarticnlar business -from Holland." particular ■/ 336 H Ikent Sauire i' IM t i| '■^ . 'I \ S ||j ; S 4 i . 4t ) f ■ r •Ivi^^ The duke was known for his invariable accessibility to all persons desirous of seeing him— a habit incidental to the necessity of interviewing anonymous personages during his campaigns. On this occasion he asked no questions, but replied in a dull tone, " Send him here. After that, do not let me be disturbed— I shall see no one except lord Godolphin. Go to the duchess if any one calls." The footman bowed, and retired to usher in the visitor. The duke looked up and recognised the newcomer with a start. It was captain Kermode. " Good day, your honour," said the captain. Something stuck in the duke's throat, and prevented him asking the only question that interested him. "Ah," he said, "sit down, captain. Where do you come from ? " " Deal, your honour— got there in the Iio}>a/ Mary." The duke began to tremble. " The J?oya/ Mary, eh ? " "Yes, your honour. Schooner belonging to four half- brothers of mine, bound from Nantucket to Amsterdam with cod." "And what have you done with the F/eur de Lys}" " Very sorry, your honour, but " "Well?" " Gone to the bottom, your honour." A pang of despair passed through the duke at this con- firmation of his worst forebodings. But he maintained his self-control by an immense effort, and turned an impassive face towards the captain. "That is unlucky," he said, after a pause. "How did It happen?" "Well, your honour, those blackguards I shipped at Ostend managed to set her on fire, just at the end of that gale. They were too drunk to help to save her, and we took to the boats. The brig burned to the water's edge, and then sank." "You were all picked up, I hope?" asked the duke mechanically. " Yes, your honour. The Jioyal Mary sighted us the next morning. Been driven out of her course by the gale. Landed the Dutchmen at Texel, and brought me on to Deal. Lvine there now=" ^ "A curious and fortunate coincidence," commented the duke, for the sake of saying something. H Ikent Squire 237 There was a sound of voices in the hall, and Godolphin burst into the room. He looked impatiently at Kermode, and Marlborough signed to the captain to leave them "Well?" exclaimed the duke, as the door closed upon Kermode. *^ " My dear friend, all is over— they have undone us. queen has created twelve new Tory peers." The mented the CHAPTER XXXI NEW year's eve at WRAV COTTAGE The news of the fall of the great duke of Marlborough, and of the coup d'etat which accompanied it, travelled far and wide, and on the eve of the New Year it reached Wray Cottage. The bearer of the intelligence was Mr. Peter Wrottesley, a solicitor of Canterbury, who was legal adviser to squire Wray, and by consequence to madam Rostherne. During the last few years he had also acted as agent for the 1 hornhaugh estate. The lawyer was a little bullet-headed, round-paunched gentleman of about fifty years of age, with a twinkling eye and an expertness in retailing a joke which went a long wav towards reconciling his clients to his bills of costs. He had known Gwynett from childhood, was a staunch admirer of Muriel Dornngton, and had lost no opportunity of pooh-poohing; the prejudices entertained by the dame and the squire against her engagement to the young owner of Thornhaugh He had come down from Canterbury to bring madam Rostherne certain business documents requiring her signature, the delay attending this having prevented the dame and he^ niece accompanying the squire's party to Dorrington Hall, as had been previously arranged. The business was now completed, and the old lady's signatures had been affixed and attested. She had just gone into the village to make final calls upon certain of her proteges, in view of her departure with her niece next day in the wake of the Wray household to London and the west. The lawyer stood in the porch of the house with Muriel, wmc;ning me iasi gleams of the afterglow. As soon as the dames grenadier-Hke form had disappeared down the lane he asked. f?f If H ' ' I ■i 1 } f: i«( >! n'^ 11 238 a Iftent Squire " Have you heard anything lately from somebody we know in Paris, my dear ? " " Not for three weeks," replied Muriel, " Had Ambrose met with any success?" •' Not up to that time." " It is a long while ago," mused the lawyer. " It is almost a pity the matter was mooted at all. I am afraid, my dear, you will only be disappointed by a failure, whereas if things had been left alone " " Anything is better than uncertainty, dear Mr. Wrottesley." " If Ambrose discovers nothing, you will be no more certain than you were before." At this moment the young lady gave a little cry, and shot past the lawyer like an arrow from a bow. The worthy gentleman's balance was disturbed, and he forthwith found himself sitting half-buried in the low box-hedge, of a century's growth, which bordered the curved path to the gate. When he looked up, Muriel was hanging round the neck of a tall young fellow who had approached unheard, and in whom he recognised Ambrose Gwynett. " Don't mind me, my dear boy," he remarked, as he sat with his nose between his knees. " Only if I am de trop, you must give me your hand a moment. I never expected mistress Muriel would throw an old friend over in this fashion." Gwynett came forward laughing, helped the lawyer to his feet, and shook hands with him very heartily. " I take my share of the blame," he said. " I should have heralded my arrival with a flourish of trumpets. But it is rather late to find you so far abroad— there is nothing wrong, I hope, about madam Rostherne ? " " Bless your soul ! no— except that you will get your head bitten off as usual, despite all my blandishments." " I need not tell you Mr. Wrottesley has always taken your part, Ambrose," said Muriel, as she stood clasping Gwynett's arm with both her hands. " But aunt's bitterness against you seems as vigorous as ever." '• You will have to answer for all lord Oxford's sins as well as your own to-night," remarked the lawyer. "Muriel will tell you all the news. But as to your quest— any result ? " "None, I am sorry to say. I begin to doubt very much whether Mr. Dorrington went to France at all" " It was a very off-chance. When did you part company with your uncle, baron von Starhemberg ? " ody we know ' It is almost lid, my dear, teas if things Wrottesley." more certain cry, and shot The worthy thwith found f a century's gate. When eck of a tall in whom he d, as he sat de trap, you :ted mistress ion." jwyer to his should have !. But it is thing wrong, t your head taken your ig Gwynett's against you rd's sins as r, " Muriel quest — any very much rt company a Ikent Squire 239 "About fifteen months ago. He was very well, and spoke of you when I left him." ^ " I haven't seen him for twenty years— he was over here heTookeaT' " '™'- ^ '^^^'^^^^Y tough customer "You would find him a good deal changed. But we are said to be very much alike." ^ " Probably-from what I recollect of him. But I must be off-my horses have been ready an hour at the 'Red Lion' ahead?' €^0^' "*^' ^""^ ^'"'"S -^ cooing too long fS^" ^^} "^^ ""^ ? '°°" ^^ yo" a'-e at leisure, Ambrose- hcZ'/' '1-rf '" Pl°' °" '^'^ °^her side of Thornhaugh home farm likely to be in the market soon, and it micht suit^you to tack it on to the property. ' Good-bye ty The lawyer went off through the gathering eloom and fh,. lovers entered the Cottage. ^ ^ ' *^^ After half an hour's conversation, during which the nitrhi t^X^l^J'T r ^"^ ''^' his'departu'rJ coVratulaS deTayed. '"'"'" ^"""^ ^""" '° conveniently rr.^'hr.^^''^- ^^ ^''- '° ^^^J ^°'"'g^*' Sweetheart," he said, "and my horse is waiting at the little tavern here. I heard when anding at Dover that lord Oxford is expected at Del" to-morrow on seme Cinoue Ports business, and I have an Lone ont f'T ^'"T '' '™- ^^^^^-^^^ ^ shouM have gone on to London for that purpose " <^t"jnhntf ^^ •» London ourselves to-morrow night, at Mr. bt. John s, leaving the morning after " b . «*i we'caf tr^p"! "f'r.^^ ^ ^°"'^ ''' ^^^^ ^^ "^"^^ do what bourse?" Dornngton. Noel will be there, of abom'our" ^^"^•^"^--^he squire is furious just now "To tell you the truth, sweetheart, I have forgotten mo^^t of my partisanship, if I ever had any. Only I st^ f Vhink Tt s SrvTfo ll."^'^'"^"^-^'^ ^^- to'go^HoS^nd^c^ Sg"Lm"into'2p:''^^^^^' °^ ''''''' ^^^ ^-'^^^ -" -d Murref'-'oTcrat sT 'f'^.'^'^'^', ^adly of late," replied Whitehall.'' ^^- ^'™^'"' ^"^ °"ce on a scaffold at ob:e?;ed Gwy'ne" '' «"o\r":"nL? h"' °" ^^^^ ^^ -^'^^'" vjwyneit. une cannot have everything. By the I'' M \ < P J 240 a fcent Squire way, I had nearly forgotten a little parcel I have for you — some odds and ends of Moorish work from Seville." As Muriel was by no means a young lady with a soul above jewellery and knicknacks, she promptly lit a little lamp to examine the contents of the silver cassette which Gwynett produced from his valise. " Here is something for madam Rostherne," he added, unrolling a splendid piece of point lace from the factory at Alen^on, "if you can manage to prevent the old lady throwing it on the fire in her first enthusiasm at hearing of my return. And now, sweetheart, I must say good-bye— if I miss the moon, I stand a chance of reaching Deal with my neck broken." Muriel laid down the trinkets she was trying on, and put her arms round Gwynett's neck. Her lips were pressed to his when a pistol-shot was heard, followed by a crash of window-glass and a loud shout. Muriel flung herself between Gwynett and the casement, and the plaster fell from the ceiling in a shower. A second shot was accompanied by the sounds of a struggle between two persons, and stentorian curses from one of them. Then a horse was heard to gallop off, pursued by shouts from the loud-voiced combatant. Gwynett seized his sword, which he had laid aside with his cloak, and rushed out of the house. A man was standing in the roadway looking after a horse- man who was disappearing round a corner a couple of hundred yards off. He turned to Gwynett, and said, " We are too late for the scoundrel. I hope no one is hurt indoors." " I think not. But what has happened ?" •' Well, for one thing I have had my horse stolen," replied the stranger. " For another, I rather think I have a bullet in my arm, which was probably intended for you. I shall be obliged if you will let me have a candle for a minute." " My dear sir, come indoors." The stranger followed Gwynett into the parlour of the Cottage, removed his hat, and bowed to Muriel with much courtesy. He was a man of great stature, taller if anything than Gwynett, with very aquiline features, and wearing his own black hair instead of the prevailing wig of the period. His outer garment was a roquehmre or greatcoat of the Ill •.iiv,- aiccrca Ui nc'.vpfit Krpp.ch the elbow. <.,c»-. iit-iisspi jiittivt rkfl. I will ask you to help me off with this coat," he said -^ U ikcnt Squire 341 Gwynett, feeling his right elbow. " Perhaps this young lady had better amuse herself with those pretty things on the table for a couple of minutes," he added significantly. "I beg your pardon, sir," replied Muriel promptly, "but you are quite mistaken. If you are wounded, it is quite as much my affair as— as anyone else's. One does not hunt and shoot without meeting with accidents, or knowing how to deal with them." " All the better, madam," said the stranger. Gwynett and Muriel pulled his roquelaure cff. The coat underneath showed blood-stains, and on removing it a profuse htemorrhage was seen to be flowing from a shot-wound above the right elbow, which had evidently divided a small artery. The shirt was promply cut away and the arm bandaged tightly above the wound. The bullet had passed through the flesh of the outer side of the arm and was of course not to be found. The wound was first bathed and then dressed, in a rapid but effective fashion. While this was being done, the stranger recounted his share in the occurrence which had led to it. "I may explain, madam," he said, " that I landed at Greenwich early this morning from abroad. Having called at ^Vlll's Coffee-house in Covent Garden, I rode down to Wray Manor, close to this place, where I expected to find an old friend of mine, squire Wray. He may probably be known to you." "Very intimately," said Muriel. "But he has gone to London, on his way to Devonshire." "So I heard at the lodge. Deciding to go on to Deal, where I have another call to make, I found myself rather at a loss at the cross-roads close to this house. Seeing a light here, I hitched my horse to the paling, and walked up to your door to ask my way. I suppose I must have walked quietly, for I surprised a man just outside your little window m the act of levelling a pistol at someone in the room. I sprang upon him, and shouted at the same time to disturb his aim." •^ We heard that," said Gwynett, " but nothing before." I was too late to prevent the weapon being discharged. Ihen he turned upon me, and before I could snatch the pistol ^he had fired the second barrel point-blank. I closed wit.. .,:m, out he succeeded in fiecing himself, and rushed out into the lane. I tripped over one of your bushes, and "my horse, flung 16 jusi as you came out the fellow reached I Vl m 242 B Ikeut Sauire himself on its back, and galloped off. That is all I know about it." " It appears incredible," said Muriel. " I don't understand it in the least," added Gwynett. "You seem to have rather spiteful neighbours here," remarked the stranger. •' Impossible," said Muriel. " There is no one who has the slightest grudge against us." "Some tramp, perhaps." "A tramp might beg," replied Gwynett. "But why fire before begging ? " At this point Muriel left the room with the basin and sponge she had been using. " May I ask, sir, if the young lady is your wife ? " inquired the stranger, who had not been able to get a clear view of Muriel's left hand. " Not yet," replied Gwynett, smiling. " Does that fact suggest anything to you ? " "Scarcely. I have been away from England a couple of years, and only landed last night at Dover. I know of no one who would consider my presence a grievance." "It would be well for you to find out, it seems to me. But I must try and continue my journey, if I can get some horse in the village. I thank you and your fiancee~\{ I may assume that much — very much for your assistance." " It is we who are in your debt, sir — probably for our lives. May I take the liberty of asking your name ? " The stranger hesitated, and looked apologetically at Muriel, who entered with wine for the two guests. "Perhaps you will excuse me," he said. "My presence in England requires me to exercise a certain amount of discretion, and just at the moment I am not desirous of being too much in evidence. At the same time I may assure you I am a person of passable respectability, and I shall be delighted later on to introduce myself in proper form through our mutual friend at the Manor." "It will give us great pleasure," said Gwynett, bowing. " But as to your journey, I am afraid you will not be able to get a horse in the village. Did I understand you were bound for Deal?" . '!y^^' •^^''^"g squire Wray, I wish to see some friends at Deal as soon as I conveniently can." " I have myself business there in the morning, and was just starting when this contretemps occurred. If you would is all I know Arynett. hbours here," one who has 'But why fire the basin and ife ? " inquired . clear view of i a couple of [ know of no ;." seems to me. can get some ncee~i{ I may e." for our Hves. illy at Muriel, My presence n amount of rous of being ay assure you i I shall be form through nett, bowing. not be able nd you were some friends ng, and was .{ you would a Ikent Squire 243 care to walk and ride alternately with me, we shall reach Deal before the taverns close for the night. It is only eight miles off." ° " That will not incommode you, I hope ? " " Not at all. In fact, until the moon rises, one can walk almost as fast as it is safe to ride. We have some very rough tracks to take for nearly five miles. I am quite at your service if you are ready to start." Muriel offered wine to the two gentlemen. They touched glasses, and the stranger bowed to Muriel. "I drink to your happiness, madam. Permit me to say that you remmd me most curiously of one very dear to me, and whom I have not seen for more years than you yourself can number. I trust some day to make your better acquaintance." The stranger made an attempt to put on his greatcoat assisted by Gwynett. But the tight sleeve of the ro^ue/aure seemed to find an obstacle in the bulging mass of the bandage I am afraid you will find this a little uncomfortable," said Gwynett. " We are pretty much of a size. Will you take my loose cloak as far as Deal, and I will wear your great- "I thank you— it will certainly ease my arm, which is oeginning to burn like fury. Luckily I remember a good surgeon m the town. Madam, I wish you a very good night " Muriel curtsied, and the stranger rather tactfully went out m advance of Gwynett. " Be careful, dear," whispered Muriel, as she put up her face to receive Gwynett's kiss. " If that was not some drunken poacher or a madman, you must have some enemy— it seems such an incredible thing to happen to either of us " " I could have understood it at Ste. Marie Geneste," replied Gwynett, but not here. Adieu, sweetheart." He rejoined the stranger, and they walked to the villaee avern, where Gwynett's horse had been put up. On the way they passed dame Rostherne, escorted by her serving-maid with a lantern, and returning to the Cottage. Gwynett stopped the old lady, who received him with more than usual stiffness, while he explained what had occurred durine her absence. Ihe stranger in the meantime walked slowly on I am very thankful, Mr. Gwvnett." rem;.rL-Pd th^ ^ojj,^ iw^'T ^'^ ^^^""'^^ ^^^ ^^"^g^ for' a time. ResT assured that I have not altered my mind in the least. When we return, the less we see of you the better, unless you can 244 H Ikcnt Squire I I ■f arrange matters a little more comfortably. I have the honour to wish you good evening." The good dame's evident implication was that Gwynett had arranged to be shot at out of malice prepense. As this was quite in keeping with her usual attitude of mind towards him, he contented himself with bidding her farewell, and rejoined his companion. The tavern was close at hand, and the stranger having mounted Gwynett's horse, the two men set off on their way to Deal. For the first hour the darkness of the night and the roughness of the road made progress rather slow. Then the moon rose, a good road was entered upon, and the rate of travel was only limited by the speed of the pedestrian. Four or five miles out of Wray, cross-roads were en- countered which went off to the right and left in the directions of Dover and Sandwich. A few yards down the former of these a horse was grazing by the roadside in the moonlight. " That looks like my horse," remarked the stranger, who happened to be on foot at the time. He went up to the animal and found that he was correct. " It seems as if your friend of the pistol were in front of us somewhere," he said, coming back to Gwynett. " Evidently he is not a mere horse-thief." "That road goes to Dover. Probably the fellow turned off in that direction on foot, in order not to be found with a stolen horse." " As I only hired the beast, it is just as well I have found him again," said the stranger, getting into the saddle. " Now we shall be able to make headway, though I am rather out of training on horseback." "It is lucky the night is clear and dry. The fog in the Channel seems to have cleared off," said Gwynett, pointing to the south-east. " That is the sea." " We must have landed in Lngland about the same time," commented the stranger. " The fog was just thickening when I came on shore. Have you been much of a traveller? " " In this case I was only crossing from France," replied Gwynett. "I should have made the passage two or three days earlier, but for being detained in Calais while I was trying to help the authorities in connection with an attempted robbery." " I used to make the passage often enough, years ago," said the stranger. Then he added, as if some train of thought had been revived by the reminiscence, the honour at Gwynett 56. As this ind towards irewell, and iger having n their way ght and the ow. Then nd the rate strian. s were en- le directions 3 former of Donlight. ranger, who t up to the front of us " Evidently How turned 3und with a have found ile. " Now 1 rather out fog in the pointing to same time," :ening when Her?" ce," replied wo or three rhile I was 1 attempted s ago," said :hought had a Ikent Squire 245 "Pardon me for wha> may appear an impertinent remark, but the face of your companion at the Cottage has been dwelling in my mind ever since we bade her adieu. It is a little unreasonable to ask for information which I have myself declined to give " Gwynett at once anticipated the stranger's intended inquiry. "There is no reason, my dear sir," he said, "why you she. 'J not know the persons whom you have laid under such an obligation. My own name is Ambrose Gwynett, of Thornhaugh, at your service, and " " Ambrose Gwynett ! " ejaculated the stranger. " May I ask,^ sir, if you were lately in France, inquiring after " The stranger hesitated and left his question unfinished. " After a Mr. Randolph Dorrington," replied Gwynett. The stranger looked at him for a moment without speaking. " I am Randolph Dorrington," he said finally. Gwynett stopped as if thunderstruck. " Good heavens ! " he cried. " Why did you not say so at the Cottage ? " II Why at the Cottage ? " asked Dorrington. "Because that was your daughter Muriel whom you saw there." II My daughter ? " said Dorrington, in a puzzled tone. " Born after your strange disappearance seventeen or eighteen years ago." " And her mother ? " " She died soon after, I regret to say." Dorrington was silent for several seconds. T u I ^T^^ i^ ^^"^"^ ^^ '°'" ^^ s^'^ ' " a"d yet, till you spoke, I had cherished some hope. She was a good wife— heaveri rest her soul I It was her face I saw in the child." " Think sir, that you have still a daughter who loves you most dearly, without knowing you. It was her afi-ectionate concern that sent me to seek news of you in France " Dorrington's face lighted up. the'Bi'tine"^^^^ ""^^ ^''* ^ ^^^ ^ ^^""^ ""^^ '°^' everything in "The Bastille?" " Yes. I will tell you my story when we are more at leisure, liut IS It too late to return to the Cottage ? " Gwynett looked at his watch. hJhh ^"l^^""^'^ ^°- ,^Ve are close to Deal now-those are the hghts. We can go back the first thing in the morning. But did you not recognise madam Rostherne ? " 246 H 1?ent Squivc \ I ; ' m i 1 , "Who is madam Rosib me?" " Muriel' ; aunt — your sister. We passed her in the r -ad." " Unf' rtunately I took no notice. My sister must have married since my departure from England. The name is new to me." "Do you know I ^al?" asked ^jwynett, as they rode into the town. "A Httle. 'i'here is a passable tavern — or used to be — close to the waterside and the jetty. If you iiave no better idea, we will put up there for the night — the sooner the better, for I feel raindrops." " I jcnow the place," replied Gwynett. " A/>ropos, let me suggest that, for a day or two, we drop the name of Dorrington — I will give my reasons when I tell you my story." "What shall I call you?" " Richard Collins will serve for a name. And now for the ' Crown and Anchor ' and a bowl of punch." :',■ I I CHAPTER XXXII NEW year's eve at THE * CROWN AND ANCHOR ' The parlour of the ' Crown and Anchor' was a toulw of con- siderable size which had once been two, as was evidenced by the heavy cross-beam in the ceiling, the greater width of one portion of the apartment, and the pair of vast fireplaces. At the smaller of the two ends of the rooms, captain Kermode was sitting with the three younger of his half-brothers round a small table. All were smoking vigorously, and steaming glasses of grog were on the board before them. A short, active-looking woman of middle age, with a piercing eye and strident voice, was just leaving the party with a bunch of keys in her hand. The half-brothers looked after her with a dubious air as she disappeared through one of the doors. " Well," said the captain, in continuation of some previous narrative, "when I went back to the room where the duke was sitting, he looked dumbfounded. I asked if he had any more commands for me, and he just waved his hand and says in a kind of choky voice — * Another time, captain — another time.' So then I came away." " And no questions asked ? " inquired Luke, s B 'Kent Squire 847 her. ad." must have ime is new f rode into ;d to be — 2 no better jOOHLr the ), we drop ivhen I tell ow for the lOR ' Jin of con- idenced by ith of one ilaces. At Kermode lers round i steaming A short, ig eye and bunch of her with a •ors. e previous the duke e had any i and says i — another "No more than I tell you." '• That's a blessed igood job," said Luke, in a relieved tone. "I can tell you I've been m a mortal funk ever since you •^farted off for London. ' Mi's well that ends v ' uuserved the capuun. "Now, what's this about Matt?" Luke looked at his broths Mark, who nodded back to him to tell his tale. He lowered his voice to a hoar, whisper, and said, "Well, brother Kit, the fact is— you saw the landlady just now?" and he jerked his 'lead in t!ie direction taken by the retiring hostess. " What of her ? " " She's got a little parlour — very snug." "Well?" •here every day — all day." V " Matt's there. "The blazes!" "She's at him. The captain's jaw " That's bad news. pped at this intelligence. he said, with a tremor in his voice. "How does Matt take it?" " Seems kind of satisfied," said Luke. " Why didn't you take care of him ? " asked the captain reproachfully. "It's awful. She'd talk the leg off an iron pot." " Easy," assented Luke, replenishing his tumbler. "Is he going to ask her?" " Mayhap— if she doesn't ask him first." "And live ashore in this bunk?" "Expect so." " It'll break up the family," said the captain pathetically, after a pause. " We must get him aboard, and weigh anchor for Portsmouth." " Matt's hard to drive, brother Kit." " A scarecrow in a beanfield would have had more sense," growled the captain angrily ; " and after such a stroke of luck as the brig " "Hush! for Old Nick's sake keep a quiet tongue about that, brother Kit," said Luke, in an alarmed whisper. "Make >our mind easy, brother Luke. Hallo I here's Matt." The eldest brother made his appearance at this moment, and approached the party with rather a hang-dog expression of countenance. The captain eyed him in reproachful silence. I MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 1^ 2.8 1^ If iiiiim IIIIM 1 4.0 1.4 2.5 1 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 A_ ^IPPLIED IM/IGE Inc S^ '653 East Main Street r.JS Rochester, New York U609 USA JSSi (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone = (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax 24$ a ment Squire P :i "Well, brother Kit," said the newcomer, as he shambled up, how have you fared ? " "I haven't made a clam-headed idiot of myself, for one thmg,' responded the captain severely. «'If yiuVe not regularly moored in that parlour, we'll get aboard." "That's it," acquiesced Matt unexpectedly. "Fact is w<« had better show our heels for a day or two " "Why?" ^ " D'ye recollect the Mermaid, at the Hague ? " " Of course." J'^^u\u^ the town there," said Matt, pointing seawards a^ZfJl^ Tf"""-- "^^^ ^^P^^^" ^^' J"«t befn ordered ofif to the North American station, and he's raging mad about It. Expected an easy time in port for a spell '* " What's that to do with us ? " 9.ni^^V^°'*'^?"'^^^Ti'f ^ ' ^°'^" °^ the men deserted off Sandwich, ana he couldn't catch them again. He's got to Z nnw^ ^^."^'"P^'^y by to-morrow, and there's a preslgang out now They may make a call here any moment if they cant get men off the fishing-boats. They' say the captain's too drunk to look at the law of the matter. He'll get anv one he can and make sail." ^ ^ This news seriously disturbed the party. The system of the press-gang, discontinued for several years, had been nf'fh!^{ P"t agmn >nto operation, and the reckless disregard of the legal limitations to the impressment of sea-faring men was a matter of notoriety. In fact, the gangs were ly nS rneans m the habit of confining their attentions to saikfrsTf they came across a big and strong landsman who looked at all capable of being rope's-ended into heavy deck-work on one of her majesty's ships. A landsman kidnapped under the^e conditions and shipped for a two or three years' cruise rnS await release for the whole of the voyage if the ship happened to touch at no British possession near home. Thus there arose a pretty universal system of passing round warning if a press-gang were known to be on shore in a district. ^ Where's their boat ? " asked the captain. " Landed quietly a mile towards Dover. The ostler's boy happened to see them, and ran on." ^ " Is ours at the jetty ? " "Yes." ....oarv. we go," said the captain. "Pay the scorp ViaH and hurry after us." ^ ^' ^^"' Matt disappeared by one door, and the rest of the party a ment Squire 249 le shambled >elf, for one you're not > ' Fact is, we ig seawards 2en ordered mad about deserted off Se's got to I press-gang lent if they le captain's e'll get any ' system of had been s disregard faring men vere by no o sailors if ' looked at ork on one inder these uise might > happened fhus there warning, if stier's boy ;ore. Matt, the party or before the 6 Gaultier. if it is by the other, which led to the porch. As they ( passed them, entering the parlour, and took a cl fire nearest to him. The newcomer was the ; The potboy came after him for orders. " Can I sleep here to-night ? " asked the abbd. " Yes, sir." "I'll have some supper. Let me see my room, ready." " I'll tell the landlady, sir." At the potboy's summons the hostess appeared, and led the abb^ off to a room upstairs, while a serving-wench began to lay one of the tables for supper. Five minutes afterwards the clatter of hoofs in the street was heard, and a couple of horsemen pulled up before the tavern. There was a little discussion at the porch, and one of the riders went off to the stables with the two horses. The other, who was Ambrose Gwynett, came into the parlour just as a shower of rain, which had been threatening for some time, began to fall with considerable violence. " You are just in time, sir," said the girl who was laying Gaultier s supper. " It seems so," said Gwynett. « I suppose you can give us a couple of beds ? " ^ & " There is only one bed left, sir," said the girl. " It is in this room." She went to a door at the smaller end of the room, approached oy two steps in the thickness of the doorway, and opened it. Within was a small room, hardly larger than a closet, contain- ing a bed of moderate size, but luckily of sufficient length. It will be a tight fit," said Ambrose, after a minute's inspection, " but it will serve. Let us have some supper at this other table as soon as you can." At this moment Dorrington entered from the porch, his cloak glistening with wet. "I have seen to our beasts," he said. "It is a perfect deluge outside— you got indoors not a minute too soon I beg your pardon." This was said to Gaultier, who came in b^ the side door in front of which Dorrington happened to be standing. Gaultier bowed without looking at the speaker, and was going to his seat at his own table when he caught cmh^ r.f r':„,„p7^^^ ^^^ stopped short as if turned to stone. His^ eye 'next 'fdl upon Dorrington, and he went a little pale. Dorrington and Gwynett glanced slightly at him, and then ' • i: 'In 13 vr-j ; I 1 . 1 250 a ment Squire moved to the fire at their end of the room. The abb^, after a momentary pause, went to his table and seated himself.' '• That was a near thing," he said to himself, recovering his composure. "Evidently they suspect nothing. Bu: wimt brmgs them here ? Is it my good luck returning ? " Gwynett took the cloak from Dorrington's shoulders, and spread it over a large chair in front of the log fire. "It will be dry before morning," he said, removing his roquelaure, and displaying his valise slung from his shoulders by a strap. The landlady came in, and confirmed the se-vant's offer of the little room ?.t the end of the parlour. Gwynett accordingly took the greatcoat and valise within, and hung thern up. The abbe watched all this out of the corner of his eye, and lamented his own shortcomings with much humility. " I have muddled matters like an idiot," he said to himself. "I suppose this is the fellow who spoiled my shot— curse him ! One deserves to lose the whole game by such bungling. Why couldn't I wait till this Ambrose Gwynett was comfortably outside in the dark, with no one to interfere ? " He commenced his supper, and kept an eye on the other table, at which Gwynett and Dorrington were conversing in tones sufficiently low to prevent any complete sentences reaching the abba's ear. In the meantime the rain ceased, and the moon shone forth brightly. The night was mild, and almost warm, although the wind was rising. " I must really have lost my head about that girl," mused tne abbd. " I haven't had such a feeling for twenty years as came over m.e when I saw those arms of hers round his neck, her breast pressed against his, and her eyes— perdition ! '' The abbd nearly choked over his wine at the reminiscence, and his fingers closed round his knife with a clutch that whitened the knuckles. " I mustn't miss this next coup,'' he v on to himseif. "No one could expect to get two such chmces. If this gossip about lord Oxford coming here is correct, it will be fatal if I haven't secured the letter before morning. Triple ass that I was to let my cursed sentimentality set my fingers itching just at the wrong time ! '- While the abb^ was deploring his misplaced tenderhearted- ness, the pair at the other table were finishing their supper and preparing to smoke, Dorrington rose to use the cinder- tongs (an article which for more than a century and a quarter afterwards continued to supply the place of the modern a Ikent Squire 25 1 2 abbd, after limself. covering his Bu:, wiiat g?" aulders, and emoving his is shoulders int's offer of accordingly :a up. The is eye, and lity. i to himself. shot — curse :h bungling. comfortably n the other •nversing in sentences ■ain ceased, LS mild, and jirl," mused ity years as d his neck, perdition ! " miniscence, clutch that to himself, s. If this , it v;ill be ng. Triple my fingers derhearted- leir supper the cinder- 1 a quarter le modern fusee-box), and looked out of the window before resuming his seat. The potboy brought in a bowl of punch which had been ordered. "People sit up late hereabouts," remarked Dorrington. " There is a light in almost every house in the street." " New Year's Eve, master," explained the potboy, grinning. " Seeing Old Year out and New Year in." " Of course — I forgot that," said Dorrington. " I think I hear the glee-singers." A faint sound of some part-music came down the street, which presently became louder as the vocalists took up their station outside the tavern. " Ask them in," said Dorrington to the potboy. " This is a pretty custom," he went on to Gwynett. " I am glad they hold to it still." The glee-singers trooped in, eight in number, and went through some madrigals with the precision and tunefulness now only heard amongst Welsh quarrymen and miners, but which was common in EnglaniJ during the two centuries preceding the date of our story. The. landlady and some of the tavern servants stood within the doors to listen, and added their share to the applause when .he performance w?s over. Dorrington called to the landlady. " Hostess," said he, bringing out his purse, " provide a bowl of punch for them if they like it, and ask them to accept a half crown each (win me. Perhaps you will give me change." He opened his purse under the eyes of the hostess, who looked rather sharply at it with the air of a person who had been victimised by this sort of generosity more than once. The purse was of fine knitted red silk, with two unusually handsome slide-rings of chased gold, which removed a good deal of the landlady's suspicion. Dorrington looked through the coins at both ends without finding any English gold, and finally tendeied a couple of louis d'or to the hostess. " I do not seem to have a guinea," he said. " But these are worth seventeen shillings apiece, as I daresay you know." The landlady shook her head. " We don't take foreign money," she said. " Folks say it was never as good as it ought to be, and that it's getting worse." Gwynett pulled a handful of coin out of his pocket " Here is a guinea," he said to Dorrington. Dorrington passed it to the landlady, who changed it and distributed the silver amongst the glee-singers. The latter ! , !! J t 1 , ! i i ■ i i\ 1 hit «S2 a "Rent Sciuire took their departure in great good humour, and the room emptied again. « <■ c luom "That is rather a nuisance," said Dorrington, within hearing of the abb^ " But it is my own fault, f got a 11 tt e S sh money at Gravesend, intending to change the rest at Wi 's and I quite forgot to do so." ' "I had better do it for you now, as I am going back to town. How much do you want?" ^ "acK to • ^^"lljf "^ listened to all this without appearing to be interested itth7woo1fir"i '" '''' ^"' ^'^ "'^'°^' ^^ ^-^« ^°Sng "I have about a score of louis here," said Dorrineton begmnmg to count. ''Twenty-one," he said finaUy pS ' feHow^"'"' """"' '° ^^^"'"- "^°""* yourself, ^myS "I can give you guineas and change for that much " said Gwynett, pushing the equivalent sum across the table, and taking up the purse. ' ^ " Keep the purse, or give it to my daughter," said Dorring- ton, noticing that Gwynett was examhiing it with sorfe merest. /'There is a little story attached ?o it, which ^u interest both of you when you hear it " i.ol^'^^ pleasure," said Gwynett. He handed his own leather pouch over to Dorrington, empty, and having put the balance of his money into the red silk purse he depo i ed the latter in his breeches pocket. '^p^^aiiea "I am scarcely disposed to follow the example of our nends the watchers to-night," remarked Dorringrotyawn^ng sleepily «« If you care to see the Old Year out mv dea? fellow, do so. For myself, the New Year must acZt my am dead tiVedT'''"' "'"^''"" '' '' "°^ '''''^ y^^' - "^ at^icHf you'^lL""''" "^' ''^^^"^"- "^^ ^- ^"- - stre;che7geSre the' fire.' "^"^ '' '''' ^'^ ^'°^^ ^^'^^ -« "Call us at seven," he said to the potboy, "and ask th^ cook to let this hang before the kitchen fire during the nigh ' Let us have our candles." ^ ^ " Yes, sir." "By the way." asked Dorrington, "is master Walton, the surgeon and apothecary, still at hi<: oH ».o,,co ^..„> .u„_- V'„ Ves, sir. But his son does most of the work now Theyve got a little party to-night," added the potboy conl a Ikent Squire 253 fidentially, as he pointed through the window to a red h'ght appearing amongst others at a house close to the jetty. "Will you have your arm dressed again to-night?" asked Gwynett. '* No — I think it will serve till morning. I do not feel very uncomfortable, and master Walton, junior, may be too jolly just now to handle it discreetly. Let us get to bed." The potboy brought candles, and went off with the cloak, while the two friends entered the little room and shut the door. Gauitier heard the bolt shot into its son' -t, and cursed quietly to himself. CHAPTER XXXIII THE ABBE IS VISITED BV AN INSPIRATION The abb^ remained before the fire, his hands buried in his pockets, and i..s legs stretched out towards the hearth. He racked his brains for some scheme to get at Gwynett's pockets before his departure to meet lord Oxford in the morning, and again execrated his precipitancy in sacrificing the unique opportunity he had been afforded when he followed Gwynett to Wray Cottage. The principal stumbling-block now was of course the bolted door, which prevented him entering the little room after its inmates were fast asleep, in order to steal lady Melfort's letter under cover of the darkness. It was necessary that the door should be opened again from the inside either by Gwynett or his companion, as the little window of the room was closely barred, and so far as he could judge actually overhung the sea when the tide was in. The most feasible plan to secure this advantage seemed to be to wait till all was quiet in the house, and then raise an alarm of fire. The abb^ put a fresh log on the hearth, and proceeded to speculate on the details of an impromptu conflagration. There was very little about the parlour itself that could be made to break out into a notable kind of blaze within any reasonable space of time. The window-curtains were certainly inflammable enough, but their burning would be altogether too slight an affair for his purpose. The oak furniture, floor, and wainscoting of the parlour were of the most massive character, as hard as iron, and would take a long time to set on fire. He could not remain in the room with any plausibility 3 n P^B^FI i ■■ 1 If ll I aS4 H ikent Squire after the household should have retired, as they were alreaHv He could of course do what he liked in his own room h„. Lr ff teit rs '"" !'' "°""' ^^- to™ amri' ncf^.1 fu ^ " .^'^^ P^''^°"f '"Stead of making himself 'f''nV^n>T''^ °f the proposed disaster. ^ ''^^ .K • .f'^'^ > remarked to himself, as he rose from his chair "p^re Germont's stock-in-trade would be enormously useful here just now. And there are no wells to bunTe wth' He strolled off to his own room, in the vague hone of findmg some suitable locality for a bla/p in fhl ^^ S;^nis^^b:fit^s.---t^^^ cogitation and no alternative plan of any value suggested ifself U^'. ^r f "P' ^"^ ^^^'^^^ °"t °f the windoT His eye fell upon six or eight sailors, under a boatswain who were stepping out of a sWp's boat just being secu Jd to the side of the jetty. Across the sea, in a broad streak of silver from the reflection of the moon, a war-ship rode ^t anchor. The sailors looked cautiously about ?hem and then walked off into the shadow of the over-hanging bakonv of two or three houses close to the jetty. One of these was^h/ surg^eon and apothecary's. Aftei th'is Gau^r/r tsTsTght' of "Those fellows are after no good, one would sav " h. thought. "Evidently they come frLx theT^rj^^ ouTt'here They look sober, too, which is a shockingly bad sign for tar " struck him ^ulr/ '^ """^^^■^' ^'^ suddef ttugh struck him, it IS a press-gang, without doubt. SomethincJ was said about it by those fishermen in the taproom rn give them warning. They may just as weU thfnk I'm an • tu t!^.is^,"^ome"t Gaultier fancied he heard a slight movement m the httle room, and he returned to his seat at the fiJe The bolt was qiiiptiv nnf hopu ti-~ -1--.. ^ "i- "ic inc. ine c^me nut '{j7 h.A i ' ,f opened, and Dorrington came out. He had only removed his coat, boots and wiiS coat before lying down. The two latter had evidently jus^^^ a ikent Sdutre »5S were already he might be n room, but frame some «ng himself se from his enormously bungle with ;ue hope of ie passages ::ame under lust set his er resource irly to take >arlour and r passed in jested itself boatswain, secured to d streak of ip rode at , and then balcony of se was the 5t sight of 1 say," he out there. ;n for tars ^ thought Something oom. I'll k I'm an ject is no novement ire. The 'orrington ind waist- -ntly just been put on again, while he carried the coat on his left arm, and held the right one away from his side. The linen bandage round '.t was saturated with wet blood, and the haemorrhage was sufficiently profuse to fall in rapid drops upon the floor. " The deuce ! " he said half aloud, as he came near the light, " this is worse than I thought." " What have you there ? " inquired Gaultier. " A shot-wound, sir. But I thought ic was better secured : I am bleeding like a stuck pig. Unfortunately some blood must have gone over my companion, for I found this arm against his chest when I awoke a minute ago." " Can I do anything for you ? " asked Gaultier, almost forgiving his marplot out of gratitude to him for unbolting the door. " I should be extremely obliged if you would cut my left shirt-sleeve off, and make a temporary bandage round my damaged arm. I must go over at once to the surgeon yonder, and get it dressed. I was a fool not to go before." " I am quite at your service," replied Gaultier. The abbd took out his knife, cut off Dorrington's left sleeve, slit it so as to make a strip of double length, and began to place it over the old bandage. " Wait a moment," said Dorrington. " If you will cut away this saturated linen and let it fall, I think you will be able to keep your fingers clean. Never mind the floor." Gaultier did as was suggested. Dorrington had previously walked past the table so as to place himself more conveniently for the abb^ to assist him., A copious fall of blood-drops had marked his track. The bandage was dripping, and made a little pool where it lay after being cut off. When the wound was bound round again, Dorrington put on his coat, thanked the abbd, and left the room on his way to the apothecary's. No one had come into the parlour, or apr ontly within hearing, during the interval, and all the hju ,ehold were evidently joining in the merrymaking in the bar and the kitchen. Gaultier's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. It was now possible to get into the room, and if Gwynett's sleep only •emained undisturbe-i, a minute would suffice to ransack his pockets. The ahhe^ -,va3 listening for any sign of movement when his eye fell u pon the bloodmarks on the floor. Curse the bl ^od ! " he grumbled. " If any one happens to come in and ^^tch sight of that at the exact moment I ^m I 2^6 a Ikciu Squire t i • ''l ' i-l: i ! i : '^) ' Sth\?^ wtllteT^?h7h'"H°' ''^ 'i!"^ commission, what nnV^ff f? ^ T ^^^ bandage at all events had better be out of the way, and I must put a little sand over the rest " He took up the str p of linen with the tongs from his own onlhrflnnp''''.^"'!!'"^ ^"^^^'y' ^"d ''^' about To droH on^ the flames, when he pauseo and said to himself. ^ If 1 put It here, it will fizz for an hour \nrf nffro^* aHe„.,o„. The other fire is abou. cold by this "toe" """ He carried the bandage to the other heartli, covered i> sTif^toTh^e^^^^indoV^^^'^^^^ ''' ^-^^- -^^en'hHt^^ped^ he;i;ougtt^"a^n7t\\nTo:'?r'if"^ ^"^° ''' ^P°^^--^'^'" , He looked out across the street. A fresh breeze had rsen, and the waves dashed noisily against the iettv THp streets were empty, and more lights were to be ieen 'in The houses. It was a little before the stroke of midnight Dorrmgton had almost reached the apothecfry's when a sudden gust of wind blew his hat off. ^As he stooned to recover it a whistle sounded sharply. Three men ?ush^^ rom the shadow of the houses upon Dorrington flune hfrn o he ground, and held a coat over his head. gLS started, and bent forward eagerly 'jauitier ar:tt^'cS;::p5^ ^^^^- "^^ ^^ ^^^ P--g-g- But where As he spoke, four other men came running round th^ corner to assist their comrades. Dorrington manS hv a superhuman effort, to struggle to his flet agab but' the and iSf ''^ ^'^ T"" ^^^'"S ^''' assailantf His feet and hands were seized and tied, he was liftpH fr^m fu ground, and four of the men carried hfm a a tro t^ th^ boat at the jetty. The other three j imped in he oars tTJXrvlsirn' ''' '''' di-ppearedYeyLd Z tgeTf The whole episode had passed so rapidly that GanlhVr cou^d scarcely have reached^he scene, S had he been he'Xft^tr '''. ''^'''' ^'' P'^^^^ - the boat But f.P^ii. .• ' u *^^ contrary, grasped the whole situation as ' ' So Z?i' programme in the most gratifying manne "T^K- ,•?., ^i°.' P^°P'^ ^^° ^'^ a'ways de trop" he thought ♦ Thishttle affair makes all the difference. Now I need not run any risk by hurrying. It will hP p..v t. ZJ!^ t "1^^ ,"°' H Ikcnt Squire 257 amission, what s had better be • the rest." i from his own out to drop it M, r, and attract ime." th, covered it -n he stepped apothecary's," 1 breeze had e jetty. The e seen in the ight. Gary's when a le stooped to men rushed •n, flung him ad. Gaultier But where g round the managed, by jain, but the 5. His feet id from the trot to the in, the oars the range of hat Gaultier ad he been : boat. But situation as anner. he thought. I need not Davjii, wiien ?t shut that He stepped slowly and gingerly towards the little room, listened again to hear if Gwynett had been disturbed by the recent conversation, and decided that he was fast asleep. He then closed a..:' latched the door with the greatest precaution against noise, and returned to his post of observation at the window. The boat was pulling across the moonlit streak in which lay the Mermaid, gently rolling with the slight swell from the Goodwins. It reached the ship's side, and after a few minutes' delay Gaultier saw it drift to its place astern. The streets were still deserted, and no one seemed to have heard, or at all events to have heeded, the struggle of a few- minutes before. The moon lit up the open space before the apothecary's, and a black object rested in the centre. This was Dorrington's hat, which had been left behind in the confusion. A distant church clock struck the first stroke of midnight. Half a dozen doors opened down the street, and several persons appeared on the respective thresholds. AH at once Gaultier, who had been standing near the window, fell back upon the bench by the wall. His face be- came suddenly pale, his eyes dilated, and his mouth remained open for several seconds. His breath came and went in short gasps, his arms lay outstretched, and the fingers of one hand worked convulsively. " A miracle ! " he panted. " A miracle ! and I— I, Armand Gaultier— only think of it by accident. I am in my dotage surely ! " The strokes of midnight rang through the air, and doors were heard to open in the inner regions of the tavern. Gaultier bounded from his seat, tore his cravat to ribbons, dragged his waistcoat open, and pulled his hair over his fore- head. He snatched up his knife, which still lay open on the table, and smeared it up to the handle with blood from the floor. Then he rushed into the front passage, slammed the outer door to w>h a bang that shook the house, and ran back agam shoutiiv ,t the top of his voice. Stamping down the length of the panour he overturned one of the tables with a tremendous crash, sent a couple of chairs flying against the wamscot, broke the window with his glass as he passed, and finally, after throwing his knife on to the floor of Gwynett's room, shut the door again and leaned against it, yelling, "Murder! murder! help I murder! help!" Voices were heard in ^alarm, followed by the sound of 17 m\^ M ' ' L «L' ■ ..^ as* U Ikent Squire hurrying footsteps. A dozen people carrying either impromptu weapons (. lanterns burst into the room, with the potboy and the landlady at their head, and assailed the still vociferating abbe with a torrent of questions. '• Murder ? " screamed the hostess. " Who's been murdered ? " " One of the two gentlemen who came here a couple ot hours ago— the elder." panted the abbd. " But I've cot the villain safe ! " " "Who's the murderer? Where is he?" came in a chonis from the servants and stable-helps. " The young fellow who was with him. Fetch the watch— we must not let him escape ! " " But what has happened ? " asked the landlady, while the men-servants helped themselves to the fire-irons brt^miei" ^^^^ ^'^ ^^°'^ '" ^"'"^^ ^'''P^' "^^ '^ exhausted and "The two went out towards the jetty quarrelling about some question of money-then the younger man stabbed the other, and they had a struggle for a moment before the elder fell 1 he young fellow stooped over the other, took something out of his pockets, carried the body to the end of the jetty and threw It mto the sea. He got covered with his victim's blood while doing it." One of the men here ran out to see if the corpse were still withm sight. " Well, go on, sir ! " cried the hostess. " I had rushed out when the elder man fell, but I slipped on the wet doorstep. When I reached the jetty, the young fellow was running back with his shirt dripping blood He aimed a blow at me with his knife, dodged past me, and tore aoorr ^ ' ^"^"^ ^'^ ^°^'^' ^^^ ^^^ ^^°°^ °" *^^ " Get out of the road, master," said one of the stablemen who carried a heavy hammer. " I'll soon break the door in " At the moment the abbd moved aside from the door' it suddenly opened, and Gwynett stood in the doorway at the top of the two steps. " What is this infernal noise about ? " he asked angrily. A scream of horror arose from the women. "Oh! the wretch! the bloodthirsty monster! look at him ! '' was shrieked in chorus. .,. . — 1.1^,1, „iinom Knoniuj^ n, a lulcrably gruesome spectacle. He was dressed merely in his shirt and breeches, and across his breast was a great stain of wet blood, which LT impromptu e potboy and 1 vociferating I murdered ? " ■ a couple of : I've got the e in a chorus the watch — dy, while the Lhausted and ; about some ed the other, le elder fell. >mething out le jetty, and ctim's blood pse were still ut I slipped ', the young blood. He ne, and tore ood on the : stablemen, e door in," the door it )rway at the angrily. r ! look at ly gruesome d breeches, lood, which i a ikcut Squire 359 ha. extended itself to his right hand and sleeve and the wais -band of his breeches. Noticing the direction of the po.nted fingers of the crowd, he glanced down, and for the hrs time caught sight of his ensanguined garments. riH of'^K ' ^T •" "■'"'^ f^* ^^^^*^' " '^^'fo^e he has time to get rid of the stolen money." ** .hM^'^^'fu^^ u'"''". ''^'''^I ^'^y"^" '^y each arm. and the abbt< thrust his hand eagerly into the left-hand pocket of the prisoner s breeches. He knew that the purse given by iJorrmgton ought to be in the other pocket but it was of 1 greater importance to be the first in possession of the letter to lord Oxford. The pocket, however, was empty. Turn the other pocket inside out," he said to one of the men on Gwynett's right. The man d.J so, found the red silk purse, and threw it on the table with a heavy thud The. was no letter. ' i"ci. it IJ^fu- '^ ' " ,^"'^^. V^e landlady. " I saw the poor man take It out of his pocket with my own eyes " r.n^°"'''fl^'^^- '""I' ^^^ *^^" '^"'^^ '"s'de there! called out Gaultier flinging the door wide open in order to see what Gwynett had done with the other clothes he wore on i^ up?h:a^-srare1 knife'" '^"' ^° ''' '^^'' ^"^ ^^^^^^ hiJ'fi'^t"^ CwVettWacf '^ ""^•" '" '^ ^'^°"^^^' ^^^'''"^ The man who had gone out here returned at a run he saTd^ " Her?,f/h'?T";' ^S^^ "^'^y' ^' ^'^^ '^ has sunk," « ? K 1 !. ^ '' ^ ^^^ ^ ^°""^ ^'ose to the jetty." It belonged to the poor fellow, no doubt," said Gaultier feathen" ^"^ ^'^' '"'^ '^' ^""^^^'^y- " ^ recollect't by ihe been lis'tenlllf tn^^. ^''^"'?' ^' ^''' °"^y half awake, had oeen nstening to the proceedings n a state of romnlf»/p k« wilderment, which was not diminished when thrsflknur.: was brought out of his pocket. P"'^® " What is all this about ? " he asked at lenafh «« Tc ,u crpro?p°.V ^'^^ - ^P-k a word^f seVsTf ^vherl^X^ ''Tikrh!mt'M?,^"f '^ an hysterical housemaid. ^^^^ lake him to the lock-up till morninrr." rrip.i tu. ^„.k„„ vvcii see ne doesn't break out of thaf "r-^^^ i""" t'-^-?°y &t:" "= '''^'- p""">8 4-« do'wrvjTeps-r ! ^WHf ' * ': , [ ;, '\i j i • [f, I si 1 . 1 i I i piw^ :« n L 1 260 a Ikent Squire Gwynett freed himself from the stableman on his left by a sudden wr^^nch, knocked the potboy heels-over-head into the fireplace, and cleared a half-circle around him by one furious sweep of a Windsor chair, which he picked up and brandished in the air with both hands. " By heavens ! " he roared, " I'll brain the first of you that comes within reach, if you can't speak out. Unless you are all mad, say what you have to say, and he d d to you ! " " Oh ! we can say it easy enough," screamed the landlady, who was entrenched behind the table. " You're a murderer, and you're going to swing for it ! " "^yho has been murdered?" asked Gwynett, who had to use his loudest tones to be heard above the uproar. " Why, the poor gentleman who was with you, as you know well enough ; and may his blood stick on your black soul for ever, as it does on your white shirt ! " " I know nothing of what you say, nor do I know how this blood came here." " Nor how your bloody knife was in your room ? " bawled the potboy from amongst the ashes and embers of the fireplace. " Nor how his purse of gold came in your pocket ? " sneered the landlady. " He gave it me," said Gwynett. " Vou saw and heard him," he added, turning to Gaultier. " Not I, indeed," replied the abbe, who had moved a little down the room. Gwynett gave a little start. He recollected the speaker's peculiar voice in an instant. " Liar ! " he shouted, making a bound towards Gaultier " I know you ! You are the scoundrel who tried to burn me alive at the presbytery ! " Before half the distance was covered which separated him from the abbe, the whole roomful of people had flung them- selves upon Gwynett. The potboy rolled under the table and grasped his legs, his hair was seized from behind, and after half-a-dozen of his assailants had been sent rolling against the wainscot by a sweep of the chair, the rest of the party all came to the floor together in a heap, with Gwynett unconscious underneath them, his head cut open by a blow from a poker. The victors picked themselves up, cursing and swearing, and presenting a lamentable array of broken noses, bleeding lips, black eyes, and damaged garments. „ A perfect demon, that fellow," grumbled the stableman, i.J •n his left by /er-head into liim by one eked up and 5t of you that nless you are 1 to you ! " the landlady, : a murderer, who had to .r. as you know lack soul for now how this m ? " bawled abers of the et ? " sneered 1 heard him," loved a little ;he speaker's rds Gaultier i to burn me iparated him I flung them- ler the table behind, and oiling against the party all unconscious m a poker, nd swearing, ises, bleeding e stableman, # "A sweep of the oliair." I'atji' Xil "f ' 1 i : ' ■ t 1 ■• ^ ■ ■ i; s i ;! a Ikent Squire 261 who had lost a couple of front teeth in the course of the fray. Lets tie him up tight, or we shall have all the trouble over again w' he comes to himself." into If e s^ securely bound and carried off, still unconscious, K I ,,, i^^- ^^e ^^°^e population of the tavern, exceot he landlady and the abbd, attended the processLn "o the bck-up, and before it arrived at its destination half "he New Year watchers m Deal had joined company with it. Ihe abb^ waited till the landlady returned to the nrivate parlour and then rushed into the little room No one had thought of removing Gwynett's clothes, and they stiU hung with anxiety the abbd ransacked pocket after pocket of the r^^/../a«r. the coat and the waistcoat, tore open the val se flung the beddothes right and left, and even^ea ched he surprise 'SdlJ ^''\^"'° '^' P"'^^^"^' overwhelmed with surprise and disappointment, ust as the landlady entered to nquire if he wanted anything more for the nUrand o apologise for the annoyance to which he had been !ubjec"ed. CHAPTER XXXIV A VISION OF THE NIGHT DoRRiNGTON Hall was a rambling old country house Ivine n DevoXe^'Thf n ""^ '"" ^'^ ^^^"^^^^ ^^ «"'--"' a^ Hn^ w^Lh a ^°^"'?^?'" P^'^Pe^y ^^n nearly as far as Holt Head and extended back rather more than a mile amongst the hills The httle seaport of HalcombJ, on an inl^ lUnr • ^^r^^^s /°"nd very convenient for smugg ^17 Ha1l,rhrf b^^of^^S^^^^^^^ '^y ^- -^ °^ ^^^'''^ th^e The squire's household had been established at Dorrineton for about two months, madam Rostherne and her niece Sg arrived there three or four days after the New Year Of he incidents of their journey from Wrav Cnn^Z I./k'-- -M De said, except that Muriel was disappoimed to hrve Zlt nothing of Ambrose during their shorfs^ly in London anS considerably surprised to have heard nothing of him s"nce 262 H Ikent Squire :^irii i .; ■li Meanwhile, she and her friend Avice rode, hunted, shot, sailed, fished, and in other ways made themselves companions for Noel after a fashion that filled that young gentleman's soul with satisfaction. The squire's asthma improved; but, on the other hand, his intermittent foe the gout attacked him again with unusual virulence. His temper under these conditions became nearly that of a maniac, and his house- hold came into his presence with fear and trembling, and an eye on everything that might serve conveniently for a missile. One night at the beginning of February, Muriel and Avice, who occupied the same bed, had retired somewhat earlier than usual in order to escape the squire's rather sulphurous rhetoric. Avice had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow; but Muriel, who had felt during the evening a certain vague uneasiness for which she was at a loss to account, lay awake for some considerable time. A dim red light from the fire of peat-blocks allowed the room to be seen indistinctly, and her eyes travelled dreamily over the elaborate plaster mouldings of the ceiling and the carved panels of the wainscot. She thought over the various circumstances that might have prevented a letter from Ambrose reaching her, wondering which one of these should be taken for granted in preference to the theory that he had not written at all. It first of all occurred to her that the business upon which he had been engaged for M. de Torcy, which he had only biiefly described, might have again required his presence across the Channel. In this case communication by letter was always more or less uncertain. It was possible that the dame had intercepted some communication from Ambrose, in her recent access of ill-will against him; but, on the other hand, he was not in the least likely to have run the risk of writing to her direct. That the squire knew nothing of anything was quite conclusively evidenced by his non-allusion to it. Finally, she decided that on the morrow she would herself write both to Thornhaugh and to Will's Coffee-house, in order to terminate the suspense and anxiety which were weighing upon her. Soon after this she became a little more sleepy, and eventually sank into slumber. About two o'clock she awoke suddenly, with the impression that her name had been called. Avice was fast asleep, and it did not appear that she had spoken. The house was wrapped in silence. A faint glow came from the peat fire. Muriel lay for some time, listening rather sleepily for a M a ment Squire 263 , hunted, shot, ves companions ng gentleman's improved ; but, gout attacked er under these and his house- trembling, and eniently for a iriel and Avice, hat earlier than lurous rhetoric, head touched the evening a OSS to account, :s allowed the elled dreamily eiling and the r^er the various from Ambrose ould be taken lad not written business upon which he had d his presence tion by letter ssible that the 1 Ambrose, in on the other un the risk of ng of anything illusion to it. would herself lOuse, in order vere weighing more sleepy, he impression St asleep, and e house was the peat fire, eepily for a repetition of the supposed summors. But no sound came and her eyes gradually closed again. ' An hour or so passed away, during which she once or twice started in her sleeo, and partly opened her eyes. An expression of pain crossed her face, and a murmur of words came brokenly from her lips. Then she sank again into profound slumber. Towards four o'clock she moved slightly, a sudden thrill seemed to pass through her, and a wave of cold air raised the curls from her forehead and temples. She raised her- self, still asleep, upon her elbow, and turned her face towards the fireplace opposite. Then her lips parted, her eyes opened widely, and she became instantly and fully awake Before her, standing in the middle of the room, was the figure of Ambrose Gwynett. She felt no fear or wonder, but an indescribable mingling of love, pity, and intense mental exaltation. She gazed at Gwynett almost without daring to breathe, lest the vision should fade and vanish. Her lover's face was turned towards her, and they looked into each other's eyes for several seconds. His features, illumined by some unknown source of light were clearly visible. They were pale and haggard, his hair' hung heavily over his forehead, and his shoulders were bowed as If with great pam or weakness. As she gazed steadfastly, he held out his hands towards her, and seemed to pass slowly towards the bedside till his form was bending over her. His whoie face was instinct with so intense a yearning to convey some spoken message that Muriel, breaking through her breathless silence, whispered almost involuntarily "What is it, dear?" fnJnv ."f °1 ^^' '°^^' P^''^^' ^"'^ ^ «^"Sle word came faintly to her straining ears. " Innocent ! " fnrtu u '^^^^^^'^ from some spell, Muriel half rose, and held forth her arms. On the instant the face and form of Gwynett S ^™',^"4 ^'th a faint echo of the same word, " Innocent," melted into air and disappeared. Muriel sat waiting for some further sign until close upon feltn^i^h T '"^ heard nothing. She was quite calm, anS fit^^^^^^^^^ "°^ ^"^^- ^ -"- «^ -"ef\om suspense Hnwn'"^' -'?'" '' I'^fr'u '"^ '^'^ ^° ^^'■self, as she finally lay down. "I am glad I have seen him once again." ^ I hen she whispered silently to the empty air, [ 1 ■ 1 h ill! it : I If: Hi il 264 a mcnt Squire "I did not doubt you, Ambrose. I was only troubled at your silence. It was good of you to come. I shall know now that you are mine for ever." telf A^lt^'^f'"^/*?' i^^V"""'' V°"''^^"*"e ^^^^her she should tell Avice wKa had happened. But Avice presently woke up and after 1. mg silent for a few minutes, said You are aw.ke, Muriel ? " " Yes." " Since when ? " " I do not quite know— some hours ago " '* How was that ? " Muriel made no immediate reply, and Avice went on, You have something to say to me, Muriel." Muriel turned and looked at Avice with an air of surprise. That IS true,' she said. "But I scarcely know how to tel you. You will think I have only been dreaming/^ ^^ Very hkely," said Avice. - Let us hear, at all events." 1 have seen a vision, Avice— a vision to warn me It meant that Ambrose is dead." " How do you know ? " it was'^rtaini;'^!"'"^ "'^'^- ''^^ "^^^ "°^ ^^'^'^ ^^' ^^^ i! Lu^!^^"° objection to believe it-quite the contrary." What do you mean ? " ' "My dear, I saw him myself." " You ! when ? " Tf IS^u'^ ^°!' '^''?~\ "^^^ ^°°^^"g ^t ^'"^ before you woke, myself.'' "" ' '"''"" ^^^ ^'^' ^ ^^^"''^ ^^^^ roused you Muriel was lost in wonder. u Did you hear what he said ? " she asked. ^^ No. I thought I saw his lips move, but I heard nothing " He spoke just one word— « innocent.' I think he said it again, just before he disappeared." " I did noi hear it." a dre^am.'''' '^'^"^^" ^"' ^^^°" '^^ ^^"^' '^ ^^""^^ ^ave been "No." "Then it was his spirit, and he is dead." ^^ Nothing of the sort," said Avice very positively How can you reject the evidence of your own eves ?» "What evidence? You think yo„ Lv. ,«" ^f A,„,,,, spirit-so do I, on the whole. ThL" is~nothi;;"y;t t show' what It all means. But it does not in the least follow that he a Ikcnt Squire only troubled I shall know ther she should )resently woke 265 ^ent on, of surprise, know how to ling." 11 events." warn me. It believe it, but contrary." >re you woke, e roused you ird nothing." ik he said it )t have been eyes ? " I Ambrose's yet to show How that he 1 is dead, or even that there is anything very much amiss— except, by the way, that he is probably ill." Muriel looked bewildered at her friend's matter-of-fact way of discussing an occurrence which had filled her own mind with awe. "How strangely you speak, Avice ! " she said finally. « I could understand you disbelieving in what has happened, but your way of believing it passes my comprehension." " It IS quite simple," replied Avice. " The fact ir, although 1 never myself saw or heard anything like this before, the idia of It is not new to me. It was a subject my mother often discussed with me, and what she said impressed me more than anything else I can recollect. I think : had better tel you two or three of the things she used tc mention to me. an^ then you will understand better." L'L^ u^" ^^ ""^'l S^^^ *° ^^^'" sa*^ Muriil wonderingly. Well, proceeded Avice, ''when my mother lived at Wrav Manor, m my grandfather's time, she had several curious experiences, of which she told me before she died, in order (as she said) that I might be prepared in case anything of the sort ever happened to me. Three of them interested me more than any of the others, and it is these three that seem to bear upon what we saw last night." " Tell me them." "I'll give you them in the order they happened. First— by the way you know that my grandfather was paralysed and^ confined to his room during the last year or two of his " I recollect hearing of it." r Jl'^^^lir^. ^^ the time my mother was firsc engaged to colonel Elliott, my father, who was then living with his sistS at Wray Cottage Old squire Wray never liked my moSe ^ul^ T i' "'^^'- ^^ '^^ ''^y^^ ^' "distress Eiliottrafter dusk, which was occasionally the case, the squire used to send over a groom to escort her back." park!^^^^ ^' '' '''''^ ^ '^°'^ ^''^^"^^' ^"^ a" through the "Oh ! it was before the Boyne, and all sorts of stories t": country/?^'' ^'^"^ '"^' •^^^^'"^-^ l^-"g '-"^dfo pSage ;; Well, go on." r«'l^"^.^''^"u"^; *" ^^^^ ^^'■^y summer, my mother left the c^rie'to meTfh ^'^' ^'^°"Sh the park alon^, because no onl came to meet her as usual. It was eight o'clock-the time 266 a Ikent Squire be it in was u: 1 • 1 1 i 1 » bed and asleep. At a wooden one then, the old squire used i erally to the Httle foot-bridge— _, m know and the bushes were not grown — " Yes." •* At the bridge she caught sight of a man coming through the open field from the Manor, and stopped to see who it might be. She watched him approaching for some distance, and was amazed at last to recognise the old squire. He seemed to see her, and hastened his footsteps. She had a most distinct view of him till he came up to the bridge. Just as he reached it, he disappeared." " But how could ? " " Wait a moment. My mother was very much frightened, and ran home as fast as she could. She found the squire comfortably asleep in bed as usual, and the groom drunk in the stables. What do you say to that ? " " It was very strange." " My mother said she always believed that the old squire, in his sleep, knew that the groom was neglecting his duty, and that in his anxiety for her, something of him— his mind, or his thoughts, or his spirit, or whatever you like — went out to meet her in bodily form." " W 11, what was the next ? " " The next was after my mother was married, and I was a month old. We were at York at the time. My father was in command of the garrison, and had to go to London on some regimental business. My mother received no news of him for three weeks after his departure, and became very anxious. One night she woke up, and saw my father standing at the bedside, dressed in white, his head bound round with a linen cloth. He looked earneslly at her and at me — I was asleep by her side— and then disappeared. My mother made sure it was his disembodied spirit, and fainted away." " I do not wonder. It surprises me I did not do the same last night." "But that is not all the story. My father, it appears, caught a fever on his way to London, became delirious, and did not recover his senses for three weeks. He was at a friend's house, and they had got a nurse for him. This woman noticed his return to consciousness, and spoke to him. He said he felt sure his days were numbered, but that he could die happy if he could only see his wife and child once more. The nurse put a fresh wet bandage on his head, and he went to slee;> again for a few minutes. When he woke up ^K, a Ikent Squire 967 I asleep. At len one then, niing through to see who it 3me distance, squire. He . She had a bridge. Just ;h frightened, id the squire om drunk in le old squire, his duty, and mind, or his t out to meet and I was a [y father was ) London on I no news of became very ther standing round with a t me — I was Tiother made ly." do the same , it appears, lelirious, and ie was at a him. This poke to him. but that he d child Once is head, and I he woke up he told the nurse he was quite contented, for he had been to his home and had seen his wife and the baby sleeping on her arm. This was at the exact time my mother saw him. I suppose you would call that a warning vision ? " " I am sure I should." " Nevertheless, my father at once began to recover, and, as you know, lived for several years afterwards. Now for number three — a very trifling affair, but with a moral to it." «• What was that ? " " When I was five years old, we had a little party at Wray on my birthday, and my mother made me a delightful new frock with her own hands. It was just finished in time to put on before the other children came at five o'clock — in June, you recollect. A few minutes after I had gone down from the nursery to join the party below, a tremendous shower of rain came on. My mother happened to look out of the window, and was amazed to see me walking in the little side garden in my new frock, with the rain falling in torrents. She called to me from the casement to run in at once, but I walked off among the shrubs, and she lost sight of me. She ran downstairs to pass through the room opening on the garden, where the other children were, and there I was amongst them, perfectly dry, and never having left the room at all." " That seems quite unaccountable." " Yes — on your theory. But I want you to notice that in none of these cases of people appearing to be seen where they could not really be present was there any question of death or of calamity. In the first instance there might have been a little fidgetiness, but nothing more ; in the second my father had certainly been passing through a serious crisis, but it was over, and things were on the mend ; in the last, as you see, there was simply nothing the matter whatever. So, from the time my mother told me of these and other experiences of hers,* it has made me think of all that sort of thing quite differently," " But do you understand it at all ? " "Not in the least. Only it seems to discourage jumping at conclusions too hurriedly." "I see what you mean. I was perhaps wrong to be so certain about Ambrose. But do you really think that what we saw meant nothing at all ? " * Incidents practically identical with those narrated occurred to an intimate friend of the writer. 268 ;i l«^ il 1 , ! i i:H B f?ent Squire I never said that. On the contrary, I am afraid it doP<: mean something. I shouldn't be surpH ed .? Ambrose is iU or in some great trouble, although I see no Occasion o suppose anythmg more. If I were you, I shoiUd w Ue S once and inquire if anything is wrong" " I had made up my mind to do that, last evening You have aken a great load off my mind. But what could iZ word -innocent 'mean ? and why did you not hea it ? » and y^^u^^ndL^o^'d"^^^^^^^^ f ^^t it. you will hear sooner or late^andt^ke mTan m itTn" earthly use guessing. Don't worry, but get ud '' At this stage Ayice put her precepts into practice bv commencing her toilet, and Muriel followed her Sofe ^ cer?airL Cor;r^ ""^^^ ''i' '"^^ DartmouthT? e a certain Mr. Coverdale on some horse-dealing business of th^ squire's. He returned at a furious gallop in thrafternoon looking very pale and much disturbed, and was met bv Mnr^S and Avice just as he came into the house from the ta^e^'^ youE^fSir"^'^^^'^™''^"^^'^-^^'' -'^edAvice. ^Have " No,'- replied Noel, who seemed rather reluctant tn K« questioned; «'it was something I heard I shouM lile to speak to you about it." !>nouia like to His tone distinctly suggested that his news was for Avice's ear alone Muriel noticed it, and instantly cried out nnn^f h"! ^^/.°™^,^^'^ tidings about Ambrose-what is it? Don t be airraid to tell me. I have been expecting it " Noel looked doubtfully at Avice ^'^^"ns «• aJr^rds?" '"'" ""'■" ^'^ ^'''^- "' -" ''" you why " Is he dead ? " asked Muriel. "No." Av^eto'ok tr &."' ""'"' "^'- "'* ^ ^^ of relief. " What is it ? " she said to Noel tremlfi. "rvoicT "''' "°"'" ^''^' ^"-^' ^'^^^ ^ "It is a terrible affair," said Noel slowly. "You prepare your mmd for a great shock." » ?*^ °^~",^° °"'" ^^^^ ^^'ce impatiently. At the hotel in Parfrn/^t,tU .,.1 t , , Coverdale, I found one'or'Tw"o';e;s:h'=ee s Sf dl'oW My eye caught a paragraph in one of them, and Tbrou|hui little must P B Ikcnt Squire 369 fraid it does mbrose is ill, occasion to uld write at ening. You t could that r it ? " ^ thought it, :, I suppose me it is no practice by example. :h to see a ness of the J afternoon, t by Muriel stables. :e. "Have tant to be ild like to for Avice's t, vhat is it? t," 1 you why of relief. th a little "iovi must to meet days old. •rought it back with me. I'll leave it with you. Call me if you want me afterwards." Noel took a small printed sheet out of his pocket, handed it to A"ice, and went off into the house with a very depressed counted'' nee. Avice unfolded the paper, and Muriel, in an agony of anxiety, devoured the half-dozen columns contained in the front page. There was nothing of any interest in it, and she turned over the sheet with trembling hands. Before her eyes was the following paragraph : "The Deal Murder. We hear that Ambrose Gvvynett, who was convicted at the recent Maidstone Assizes of robbing and murdering a fellow- traveller at the 'Crown and Anchor' Inn, Deal, on New Year's Eve, has been more or less ill with jail-fever during his im- prisonment. This has naturally aggravated the effects of the serious injuries he sustained while resisting arrest. Nothing has transpired since the trial as to the identity of the victim. The murderer will be duly executed at Maidstone at eight o'clock in the morning of Tuesday next, February 6th." " Good heavens ! " cried Avice, letting the paper fall, ** that is to-morrow morning ! " Muriel had fainted. CHAPTER XXXV A FRIEND IN NEED As Noel entered the hall, he was greeted in rather noisily hearty tones by a man who was crossing it to enter the dining- room, and who stopped to shake hands with him. This personage was a florid, horsey-looking individual of about forty years of age, by birth a Yorkshireman, and by station a small squireen near Doncaster. He had come into a heavily encumbered estate at his majority, found that it would barely secure him bread and cheese, and consequently determined to sink the country gentleman and become a trader. Going into horse-dealing and horse-breeding, he had prospered exceedingly, and for some years past had held lucrative contracts for supplying horses to the allied armies on the continent. At home he was beginning to be known 970 a Itcnt SqiUrc M m- far and wide as a contractor for several lines of post-service u. Ilie government, and had been frequently etiolovS hv ™nrin'',L''„ r^b'a v::nX'iand%°''fr/'''"'''-- he rememherpri M, .1 ii *^''Vr' ^"g'anrt. It will, of course, One branch of the business carried on by Mr Tohn Coverdale (of whom v ■ have been speaking) was the purchase and rammg of Exmoor and Dartmoor ponies which he successful breeder of horses and cattle. As a lad Noel h.rl been a particular favourite of Coverdale's -inH hif « 1 mount had been a present from thTcontractor '" '"'"^ his fmmenTe^ fiS""^u?h^'"'" ^"'^ ^°^^^^^'^' ^« ^e held out hour^S;v?: SUe^^ss^^^mTwh^l lIuS In" to speak to farmer Leigh at Alvington.^ "'"""^ '" bad r-L Sor L^c'K icSTtHXT^H- „r;;d-j >- " w^°°l''"" "P'*^'- ^■"' <"■! no' <^are to join him "^^ We rather expected to see something of vou earh>r » h» foX'tuest'^PlrtteE ^r^ °' ">' A"''''"^-""'-' had/eef fb'ere t^k^sln^e^S '^Ty'^^^'^ '''' "" ' you&hy?'." '"'" '^°™"'="^- """"'"S => bumper. "Did •' No." je^JiraLft-be'-^-J^Lfa^^^^^^^ of';ttru■^e^^■'^;^oili:r^"''"°"'"^■■"^°■-*- " Indeed ! I congratulate you " « post-service Tiployed by tablishment e establish- , of course, ate and for o( facilities ol private Mr. John le purchase which he periodically jnce some had from himself a Noel had is earliest ■ held out ich other. DUth." 't only an turned in ts I have me." ere lunch ly. Noel irlier," he 3us claret ■. " Did mber; a between imaindfr )mg now jlenty to B Kent Squire 371 be done with fbe posts — either in '' way of swindling the government or or proper organisati< ■. ly idea at present is to choose the latter alternative. Anything worse than the roads and the ' attle along this western route I never saw anywhere." "We escapt'i pretty wtll ourselves," said Noel. ' But we took our time, mid by good lutk there had been a fortnight's dry weather." " That's your one chance. A good shower will make some parts of the road nearly impassable. Of course, my concern is only with the establishments. JJut if I can't bully some of the townships into filling up their quagmires, hang me if I won't divert the traffic, and ruin them. It wouldn't take much to do it." " We are certainly better off in Kent." "A different thing altogether. Everybody goes between London and Dover, and my lords this and that expect to find a Strand all the way." Coverdale helped himself to another glass, and then glanced at Lionel. "You're looking a little gloomy, my young friend. What's the matter ? " Noel saw no use in affecting secrecy about what was suffi- ciently notorious to have found its way into a provincial news- sheet. He therefore acquainted Coverdale witn the news he had brought from Dartmouth. " You know mistress Dorrington," he added. " I may say there is an engagement between her and Mr. Gwyne t. It makes the matter doubly distressing to us, as you may suppose." " It is pe/fectly monstrous," exclaimed Coverdah" in amaze- ment. *' ' Murder ' may mean anything— a duel, ; scuffle, or some fellow killed in self-defence, if one knew ai about' it. But the ' robbery ' is simply out of the question. What on earth should Mr. Gwynett of Thornhaugh want to r b anyone for ? And the execution fixed for to-morrow, you sa ? Hor- rible ! How is it you only hear of this now ? " " Impossible to say," replied Noel. " The paragr, ph, you see, spoke of illness— but that could hardly accoui . for it. Some letter may have miscarried " At this moment Avice burst into the room. "Noel !" she cried, "come at once into the squire'.' study \ ou will excuse him, Mr. Coverdale " Coverdale waved his hand in deprecation 01 any apology and the young couple hurried out of the room. 272 H Ikcnt Squire I! M ' 1 3 f H 1 "What is it ? " asked Noel, as they crossed the hall. "First of all," replied Avice, "Muriel fainted when she read that paper. Then, after madam Rostherne and I had brought her round again, she went straight to the squire and said she must go to Maidstone at once." " To Maidstone ! " " Yes— but there ! just listen to the squire." There was no difficulty about listening to the squire, for his furious imprecations could be heard all over the building and the house-servants were gathering at various corners in amaze- ment at the outburst. The study was, in reality, a sort of ottice in which the squire transacted his business, and which Coverdale had left only a few minutes before. Seated in his great arm-chair, with his bandaged foot supported on a high footstool, Mr. Wray was shaking his fist at Muriel, who stood facmg him across the table, while his face was purple with passion, and he almost choked himself by the haste with which he poured forth his objurgations. Madam Rostherne sat near him, looKing angrily at Muriel, while at the same time endeavouring to temper the unmeasured violence of the squire. " Innocent ! " he was bellowing, as Avice and Noel came m— innocent ! How the devil can he be innocent when he's been convicted by a jury ? And what else could be expected from an infernal, traitorous, foreigneering Jacobite ? All thieves and murderers, every man jack of 'em— only waiting to be found out, like this scoundrel ! and the sooner they're all at the end of a rope the better, curse 'em ! " Muriel stood pale and rigid, hearing but apparently unheed- ing the storm of coarse abuse hurled at her by the squire Her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and she seemed only partly conscious of what was passing. When the squire stopped in sheer want of breath, she repeated the words which had elicited his last outburst. " He is innocent," she said, in a low, dreamy voice. " He told me so. I must go and see him." T " '^,^\g''"l'^ raving," roared the squire. " Be off, all of you ' 1 won t hear a word more about Ambrose Gwynett, now or ever— he s got his deserts, and there's an end of it i " Muriel shuddered slightly, and grasped a chair-'back to support herself. Noel was boiling over with indignation. Father." he said, "have n litflp roncidef^'n" ^t _i- us can believe for a moment that Ambrose can be guilty of what they impute to him, and B ment Squire 273 lall. 1 when she and I had squire and Liire, for his lilding, and ' in amaze- ^ a sort of and which ited in his on a high who stood lurple with with which therne sat same time :e of the ^oe\ came when he's ; expected ^11 thieves ing to be y're all at y unheed- le squire, nly partly stopped, 'hich had :e. " He 1 of you ! t, now or !" -back to on. guilty of i " Curse you ! " screamed the squire, twisting himself round towards his son, " who asked your opinion ? Are you going to set yourself up against your father, you rebellious young dog ? " Muriel moved a step forward, and swept from her forehead the hair which had fallen over it when she had fainted. "Mr. Wray," she said, as if unconscious of what had previously fallen from the squire, " I must go to Maidstone to see Ambrose before he dies. You will help me ? " and she held out her hands imploringly. The squire fell back in his chair, tugging at his neckcloth, and shaking his other fist in the air. " Take away that idiot ! " he yelled. Noel was opening his mouth to make some violent protest, when Avice clapped her hand over it, and pulled him towards the door. " Hold your tongue," she said. " It's no use. Let us get Muriel away from this, or I don't know what will happen." Noel swore under his breath, but felt the force of his cousm's advice. He turned his back on the squire, and by a gesture begged Muriel to leave the room. She looked blankly at hmi, and Avice had to take her arm and lead her out into the hall. Here they encountered Coverdale. " I've been listening at the door," said this worthy. « For the matter of that, I could have heard just as well at the lodge gates, so far as the squire is concerned. What is it that mistress Dorrington wants ? " Muriel turned to him with the same quiet and almost emotionless expression of face she had shown to the squire '' I must go to Ambrose," she said. " I must see him before he dies." Avice looked at her with a troubled air. '' pear," she said, " it is impossible. You know it took us nearly four days to come here from Kent." ''I shall ride fast," replied Muriel impassively. " You will lend me your Arab, Noel. It will carry me better than either Avice's horse or mine." "Ride her horse to Maidstone, and before to-morrow morning? asked Coverdale, looking from Avice to Noel in bewilderment. ^^ " You hear what she says," returned Noel, takine him aside. 1 am atraia the shock has confused her mind." " Has she the least idea that it is about eighty leagues as the crow flies, and by any decent road it must be nearly two t8 i*i-;| i . ?'' I'f. .: u^ > i M : i : : I ; ■ 1- 1! 1:1 ~: III ii 274 a Ikent Squire stefotlock?'''^ '"*^''~'' ''^ "°'^'"S °^ ''^ ^^'"8 dark at Avice came forward as Muriel left the hall quickly A^^ f» u ^^-'i^ *° ^^^ st^t)les to order the horse to be saddled." she said. " I think we shall have to hur^our her and let her start, or she may go perfectly d.stracted You wi i go^with her, Noel, as far as may be necessary ? " Of course We may get as far as Honiton or Axminster mthout our horses foundering, but after that, whft can be At this point Muriel came back again, and was proceeding upstairs, when an idea seemed to strike her, and fie turned sympXy ' "^° "'' "'''"'"^ ^^^ ^'^^^ great dS of "Mr. Coverdale," she said, "while I put on my habit will you do me the great favour to write me^ome directions for he best route between here and Maidstone? It wS" save time, and there is none to lose." ^ " My dear madam," cried Coverdale, much moved "I'll and'SSs "' '" "' P^"'"^ ''' ^°"' ^"^ ' ^^^^ -"idea. Go up^rf fi^S^d by^^cf ''''''''' "P°" ^^- -^ -^^-d ''I was an ass not to think of it before," muttered Coverdale to himself. ' It might be done-a frigh fully near thClhnt not absolutely impossible " ^ ming-but 11 S'¥^ '^ "°^ impossible ? " asked Noel 1^' I have ten pounds or so," said Noel. Coverdale ran back to the study, where the squire was still fuming over his recent interview, and madam Rostheme was trying to pour oil over the troubled waters. ^^^"^^'^"e My dear sir." said Coverdale, "do me the favour ^n e me have back the forty pounds' I paid you just now anS 1 1 give you a week's bill. I find I'm short of mbney " "Hang your notes!" said the souire. wh!? 2". ;. .u. mooa to object to everything, although he had noUhe'leasI doubt as to the security offered. " It was a cash barglin " M ts being dark at uickly. he horse to be to humour her, cted. You will n or Axminster t, what can be wa.s proceeding md she turned . great deal of my habit, will directions for ? It will save 1 moved, "I'll an idea. Go lim and oped Ted Coverdale ear thing— but ed Coverdale, noney in the nent, and my may not be ave just paid e squire was m Rostherne le favour to ust now, ^nd >ney." «roc« ■»« 4.U >* "•■Lj 111 uic not the least bargain." H Ikeiit Squire 275 "I know— nevertheless, I am in a hurry, and can't cet at my money at Plymouth and Bristol in time." J^Jn time for what?" asked the squire, with a suspicious "I'm going to escort your ward to Kent," replied Cover- dale, who cared nothing for the squire's likes or dislikes and thought that Muriel had been outrageously treated "With my money?" roared the squire. "I'm d r1 if you shall." ^ u "Very sorry to disagree with you, squire, but I must, and time presses. I think you put the cash in this desk ? " in frnnf .on'"'"' a heavy oak affair, resting on the study table in Iront of the squire s chair. "I did, and here it stays," said the squire, bringing his ml^dfrverSaS" '' ^'' ' '^"^^ " ^°"'- ^^^^ ^^^'^^ wJn^.hPH''?r'!f ' , "^'^ "°i r'^^ ^'"^^ ^"^ argument, but wrenched the desk out of the squire's hands, and sewed lur^ln^tLXf ''"^ ^"" •" '""'^ ^° P--- ^^^ ^^y ^eing Tpaf ip.'' °" '' '■''°"'''' '"^ y°" ^"" ^^^P '^^ beasts till The squire nearly had an apoplectic fit. "Stop the infernal thief ! " he screamed, as the door closed behind Coverdale. The latter noticed that he key wis In the outside of the lock, and took the precaution !o turn i^ ar^d put it in h,s pocket. Noel was waiting for 'him in Imaze "Good, so far!" said Coverdale. "Now to saddle nn.- three horses and be off." ^^^^ °"' " What on earth are you going to do?" asked Noel as he hurried after Coverdale to the stables ' "' Of couTseT"^^ '° "^' ''" ^'°" "^'"P ^'°"^ '^^ ^^ddle ? " " So am I."' " That is, if there is any use in it " "Wh'atts ?''^"'' ^""''^ ""^'"^"-^ ^°"'' '^y '"°^^-" " To get mistress Dorrington to Maidstone hef^r- d— " "'i^mnol'^r?°'f ^'~>'"" ^^'^ '' much you^se f:- PP ■ M f i ;'vfl 1 I '■ 85 ' I 276 a meat Squire night, without money ; impossible for anybody, with one exception, to help her, ac such short notice and amongs strangers over a distance of two hundred and forty or fifty miles. I am the lucky exception." ^ stables ^°'^^' ""^'^ saddled, and Coverdale looked about the " Have you pistols ? " he asked. " Two pairs." "Let us have them-I have my own here. Also a good l.atchet~the sharpest you can find. And a horn, if you have such a thing." ^ " We pass the huntsman's cottage, and there is a hatchet ground this morning. What are we going to do, may I •'In one word, my dear fellow-post. I am goine to convoy you past all the posting-houses between Exeter and London, and I am the only man in England who can do it «7r2"~"^* "'^'^^ ^"^ against time, that is to say." That IS a wonderful idea, and I shall never forget your kindness. But why through London ? That detour will ^cos us thirty extra miles." ^ "It will cost us twelve extra hours to take any other route As It is I dont say it can be done-I only say it is not impossible. For myself, I shall break down on the way-I don know exactly where. You are young, and light, and in training. As to the lady " ^ ' iP A^,'f r^?^"" u '"^^'"^ ^^^ stable-yard just as the groom Cn Tr^ ^ '^'^^ ^°''''- ^°'^ h^^ g°"^ f°^ the pistols, and his saddle ''''' '"'''^^'"^ ^^' ^'^'^'^' '"'"PP"^ '■" ^ ^'°th, to ..Lf\ ^?''' V '^'^ ^""^^' '"^ ^ ^""'^ tone, seeing that her saddle had not been put on Noel's Arab. cf""^^ '^Lf^''!''^' niadam," said Coverdale, holding her stirrup. We leave all three at Exeter, and it is no use making needless changes." " Do you come with me, sir ? " Mnlf ' ^^'.'■'j \f'''"u''^^P ^" ^^^ '^^'^^^^ After that, you and Noel must do the best you can. Mount, my dear madam- here IS Noel, and we must lose no time " Muriel was in the saddle before he had finished speaking and Noel followed her example. Coverdale took a key ouT^f his pocket, and handed it to A vice. A^ice ''"he^t^^n" '"^^ k' '" ^'' ''."^y' ^° '""^ ^"y ^"^5' "^'Stress Avice, he said, as he mounted. " Will you kindly let him ■'i body, with one :e and amongs id forty or fifty )oked about the J. Also a good orn, if you have 2re is a hatchet to do, may I am going to en Exeter and ■ who can do it y." ver forget your detour will cost iny other route, y say it is not on the way — I id light, and in t as the groom the pistols, and in a cloth, to seeing that her , holding her i it is no use that, you and lear madam — ihed speaking, k a key out of fuss, mistress :indly let him H Ikent Squire 277 out, with my most humble apologies? Wish us God-speed and good-bye to you ! " Avice nodded, and the three riders started at a gallop alonjr the park drive leading to the Exeter road. It was a quarter past two o'clock. In seventeen hours far away ori the other side of England, the light of the earliest dawn would fall upon grey prison walls, an expectant multitude and a gallows. ' CHAPTER XXXVI A RIDE AGAINST TIME The travellers drew bridle at a cottage close to the boundary ? . u\^'''u' """"^ ^°^^ ^""8 ^'"^^e^f off his horse to run and fetch the huntsman's horn of which he had spoken. Half a rnmute sufficed for this. Coverdale took the horn, slung he strap over his shoulder, and the trio resumed their journey The day was clear and bright, the air dry and crisp, and it promised to be a fine night. The road, thanks to an excep- nonaiiy dry January and pretty constant wind, was in the best condition that could be expected in an age when Macadam was unknown, when family coaches were frequently overturned by the ruts in the main highways, and when prTnce George of Denmark, travelling by carriage over the forJv miles between Windsor and Petworth, took fourleen hou s o accomphsh the journey. " Everything depends upon the light," said Coverdale as m 'lo^n^Tff ^ ^°"" -rr^^ '^^^"^•^- " ^^e shall have twitigh till long after six o'clock. Luckily, there is a capital strefch of road for ten miles on this side'of Yeovil. If we only m a clear sky at night there could not be a luckier time The moon IS at the full some time to-day or this even inT"and it will be aloft for more than twelve hours " ^' Very little conversation was exchanged during the first K. r! •■ ,^he horses had been walked through Totnes and S^^^STridTe^'r'" 'ffT ^' ^^^" ridden 'almost :i;hou' drawing bridle. Coverdale had urged that the few rpm..ni.„ auurs or aayjight were so valuable" that their beasts must h? rz'zt:. Si. """ ''- '''' -'-y °^ post-h::;eT"c^i^d^ 1 fe 278 a Tkent Squire I ' ^ 1 1 in 1 1: 1 ■ .^1 1 ■ i l\ ■ t!! I \ ill r^ift •:i • I Four o'clock was striking as the county town was entered. Thirty-three miles had been covered since starting. But this had been by daylight, on first-class mounts, and represented a higner rate of progress than could be expected at subsequent stages of the journey. At the Exeter post-house, where all the ostlers recognised Noel and Muriel, as well as Coverdale, their saddles were transferred to three fresh horses in the twinkling ot an eye. This was by Coverdale's advice, on the double ground that it would save time on the whole to take their own saddles with them, and that if they did not they might fail at some place or other to get a side-saddle at all. The journey was resumed with scarcely five minutes' delay. Honiton was reached within the hour, and Coverdale, who found the wife of the postmaster at her tea, recommended Muriel to join her and take a little refreshment while the relay was being brought round. " I could not swallow anything," replied Muriel, speaking for the first time since leaving Exeter. " My dear madam," replied Coverdale promptly, " I con- sider this affair is in my hands, and I know what I am about. If you want to get beyond Salisbury, you must eat something. If not, say so, and I will wish you a good evening." Muriel went very obediently into the landlady's parlour, and forced herself to swallow a cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter. Then the relay appeared, and the third start was made just as the sun was setting. When they reached Axminster, half an hour afterward- the moon was already showing itself above the eastern horizon and a clear sky appeared everywhere. The road had been rather heavy. "We had better change again here," remarked Coverdale to JNoel. These beasts are a poor set, and it is a eood twenty miles to Yeovil." ^ The relay was obtained, and the two men had some bread and cheese while the saddles were removed. The first part of the road to Yeovil was decidedly bad, and neither the after-glow nor the low-lying moon afforded enough light to permit of anything like a rapid pace. The second half of the distance was better, and the light improved as the moon rose. Nevertheless, it was seven o'clock before thev reached the Dost-honsp ^ "We are behind time," said Coverdale, as he flung himself ott his horse and ran into the inn. vn was entered. irting. But this and represented d at subsequent lOuse, where all 11 as Coverdale, 1 horses in the advice, on the e whole to take !y did not they L side-saddle at y five minutes' Coverdale, who , recommended while the relay [uriel, speaking nptly, " I con- lat I am about, eat something, ig." llady's parlour, I slice of bread he third start afterwards, the istern horizon, oad had been ced Coverdale it is a good id some bread The first part d neither the ough light to ad half of the as the moon they reached flung himself ^ a Ikent Squire 379 The postmaster announced that his only horses were dead beat, having just come in with a coach from Dorchester. " You had better try for a relay at Sherborne, sir," said he. " It's only five miles further on." '• But there is no post-house there," replied Coverdale fuming at this check. ' " The landlord of the * Blue Pig ' has a couple of hunters and a pony or two." * " The landlord of the ' Blue Pig,' would be a born fool to lend his hunters to passing strangers," returned Coverdale, as he went out. The postmaster followed him into the yard, and signed to him to give him a word in private. " Hi ! " said he mysteriously, as Coverdale put his foot in the stirrup. " I've thought of something." " Well ? " ^ " Take my advice," whispered the postmaster, " and let the lady ask him— in a good light, you understand." Coverdale responded with a wink, and rode off with his companions. "Let us hope the 'Blue Pig' is a bachelor, and passably sober, he said to himself. «' It is a pity we haven't daylight for this kind of diplomacy." ^ The road to Sherborne, by good luck, was in excellent condition, and the party lost very little ground by the extra demand made upon their horses' endurance. As thev nulled up at the ' Blue Pig,' which was a large and roomy hostelry, they could see that a long room over the stables was lighted up with a liberality which suggested some festive function Coverdale dismounted, and said to Muriel "My dear madam, there is a fellow 'here who may be able to help us, and whom we shall have to take as we find Wlead"^ '^^""^ necessary, I rely on you to follow Muriel nodded assentingly. vn," !^? ^ ^!^ ^""^ r" ^^^^ '^°°d the journey so far? Do you feel as if you could go on ? " " cl7\ n°thmg_nothing whatever. Only let us hasten." Gad! sohloquised Coverdale, as he entered the oorch sltcLT^;S"^- ' ^^"^^ ^° ^° '^' ^^^^ ^ ^-^ ^^^of d^teT^^J^"} ^""^f ^'".°^ '^^ ^""' a»d found it deserted. Sounds of revelry and the scraping of a fiddle came from overhead, and he turned his steps Ipsta.rs. On il I II 380 ^;( 11 a ment Squire comer, and stopped. noticea lliat he was a new- '" Nm "3 °"? ''"■"* ^°:'' '" ' " ''he asked, wedding, ^r'a wale! ^rwh« ? .?°""'""^ 8°»« ™- '' " - before." ^ ^^^"^ ^° have heard the name played one'o?tSe?ar^rf^' '^' ^''^ °P^"^^ ^ door, and dis- couples, dres ed\ theS reft\r"''^-^''^"^ ^ ^^«^^ °^ with immense earnestne s wh ^ Z' ^"""Z '^'^^^h a figure on from benches rantedllong thf 3s Z'T] ^°°'^5 pomted to a youne fellow Jil ? i" ^"^ chambermaid some orders. ^ ""^^ ^^' ''^"^'"g "^^ far off, giving •^That is the master," she said. me?:rs™'ir.ra'n^d' 'x^at ^rzT'"-"' "^'^ --"^ comfortable little landed nr^.^^^ f- '° '''""= '"'" "^orae into a young man a thfs moment "rn^S' ''5™' '" *"■' ''°"^'- l''"^ ■n his'turn, and came forward '°''"''' ""^"''^'^ C"'*"^"'- in «me.' ""vou'^mulfSe'l I'^^Vh " ^^'' -'-Vo" are just brings you here"" ^''"" "''* ™^- ^^^at good fortune we"'eSnge°d"' '""" '°' ""^ P^''' ^""^ *e usual salutations " buJ rdTd'lt kno" i:: Z ^I^J'r^- ^^'^ ^overdale. happy returns." '^ '" '^"'""'>' "" Progress. Many you' nt"%S ird'';o"u^ a'lr„er;°ir'H-'r°™"' '^ about are here to.ni.>ht" ?"«"«'? All the best people on?/ceK°;;?feS!s;ih^t7"'' ^™'P'^"""^' -<' --ed tnIi''M™.or''m;i"''"K'' ?™"^'''«- "You're a ...,.h „ou ••Nor;etf."n7t7irM^(^tSe>^"''= ^^"«^' ="-dy''' •#- ■I H fkcwt Sduirc 281 irmaid passing he was a new- g on. Is it a tiity. "It is ball-room, and see you." le, as he fol- iard the name ioor, and dis- ly to be found ■rooms of the r. A fiddler, A score of 3ugh a figure tators looked chambermaid far off, giving had recently t come into a hotel. The id Coverdale -you are just a;ood fortune il salutations 1 Coverdale, 'ess. Many )-morrow, if best people ind seemed I catch, "ou ilready ? " "Quite right, no occasion to hurry. But you're a re^ulir ladies' man, you know." "^ Mr. Marston seemed to relish this suggestion hugely "Lord! don't flatter a fellow, Mr. Coverdale. I'm well enough, I suppose." Coverdale took him aside mysteriously. " My dear fellow," he said, in his car, " if you like, I'll give you the finest chance in the three kingdoms. I wouldn't do It for anyone else." "What do you mean?" asked Marston, with his eyes like saucers. ^ "Hush! the most beautiful girl in Englan 3, and two thousand a year to her fortune." " Bless my soul ! Who ? Where ? " " At the front door." " Lord ! you don't say so ! Won't you bring her in ? " Quite mipossible— it's there where your chance is." Hang me if I understand you." "Simplest thing in the world. Mistress Dorrington— don't forget the name, now " ^ " I won't." '' Mistress Dorrington is riding to London to-night " 1 o-night ? Good Lord ! " "Yes-sudden summons— dying father-only child and heiress, you understand?" " Yes— yes ! " " No change of post-horses to be got at Yeovil » ^^ I daresay. Most of them are here to-night." ^hJZu^ determined to try at your place for a relay on to I beheve a service at this uncture would win her heart She's terribly cut up about her father " you wJntt'' ' '''' "^""'^ '"^ ' ^^""^ "^°^"- "°^ "^^"y do ,',' lu""^^' ^^^ ^^^^ o"'" own saddles." .< I ^^^ ^ ^^^ "^'^*d, I suppose ? " ^ No— a young fellow." " Oh ! a young fellow, eh ? " " Her brother." the'^ry?'!""" ^''' '^'™ *" '^ jiffy-you'll present me to M^Lf"^"'^'^' ^^S y^^^ ostlers, and come along." Comdde" ''" "''' '''' ''''' °^^^^^' and 'returned to Uj kt 282 a Ikent Squire Between ourselves," said the latter, «« don't be too business- hke-do the sympathetic. Beauty in distress, you know-1 sprat to catch a whale, eh ? You and 1 can settle the money matters afterwards." money as 'llV^th'nV;;'"''''"/" >^ ^^'- Coverdale. I'm not such a Jew as all that comes to." ■' Coverdale went out, followed by the landlord. Muriel and Noel were still ,n the saddle, and Coverdale gave the latter a warnmg nudge. ^ "Mistress Dorrington, permit me to introduce to you my fnend Mr. Marston, who has offered in the kindest manner and 11^ NTl™rrington.^°""- '^^^^'°"' "^''''^'^ ""''^^^^^^ Marston seemed struck speechless at the sight of Muriel ?o £^ 'X'^,^h^^,.-^knowledgments, and held'out her hand to be helped to dismount. "It is very good of Mr. Marston," she said. "We shall ahyays be grateful to him for getting us out of our difficulty." l^on my soul, madam," stammered Ma.-ton, "you're very welcome. Won't you come in?" ^ Ji^l'^ ""T^f ^^^ ^°''^'" ^^'^ Coverdale. " Look alive with the saddles, my lads ! Excuse our being too nS pressed to accept your hospitality, Marston-but every moment IS precious. You'll do one more thing to oblige us' Fm "u?e —send our post-horses back to Yeovil " ^ > '^ "" sure Af^'^r'^^jr^"'^*^ ^^^ landlord, unable to take his eyes off Muriel Leave mine anywhere you like-they're all fresh, and will carry you well." ' ■ '"^^^^"xt" 1"°^^ .^° ^''^"^ y°" '"O'e at leisure on our return sir," said Noel, raising his hat. ' AnnVh?;" ^^ "^°"^f;°"s glad to see you, sir, and madam also. And I hope you will hear better news of your father " Are we ready ? " interrupted Coverdale. " Marston kindlv give mistress l^orrington a lift. Now, Noel. Lao\ ' S fhfnks.""'""" ''"°"^'' ^°"- ^°°^ "'Sht. Marston, and many n.r^v"Ii^^'l]°°^.u^"'^' ^^^^ ^^^ enraptured landlord, and the ^ %? u "^ ?" ^^^ seventeen miles ride to Shaftesbury. " R„. 1 1?^"^^']^ ^ ^"^'^''^^ °^^" hour," said Coverdale. But we might have done worse." ^^^What on earth have you been telling that fellow?" asked " A pack of lies, for which 1 hope to be forgiven. The truth would have cost us half an hour, and we couldn't afford it." H Ikcnt Squire s too business- you know — a -tie the money t such a Jew Muriel and ave the latter :e to you my ndest manner !ss Dorrington It of Muriel, out her hand "We shall • difficulty." ton, •' you're " Look alive g too much very moment us, I'm sure his eyes off 're all fresh, I our return, iiadam also, ir." rston, kindly .ads, there's I, and many ord, and the bury. Coverdale. ow ? " asked The truth fford it." 83 A few miles further on the first difficulty with the turnpike arose. Hitherto the j^ates had either been found open during the daylight and the dusk, or the pike- keepers had been on the alert and had heard Coverdale's horn as they galloped up. But at Milborne the gate was closed and locked, no light appeared in the keeper's house, and no response was made to the summons of the horn. Coverdale and Noel did not stop to waste further time, but dismounted and lifted the gate off its hinges. They were in the saddle again when a night- capped head was poked out of the window, and a quavering female voice asked what waS doing. Coverdale threw the toll-money on the doorstep, threatened the pike-keeper with unheard-of penalties for obstructing her majesty's lieges, and galloped off after his companions. The watershed between the Yeo and the Stour brooklets one flowing to the river Parrett and the Severn estuary, and the other to the English Channel, was a foundrous piece of road, and the travellers congratulated themselves on having under them animals accustomed to any sort of cross-country rough ridmg. Shaftesbury was reached at half-past eight, and here a good relay of post-horses was found. At this stage, notes were compared as to their respective powers of endurance during the journey. Noel confessed to a certain amount of fatigue, arising more from the incessant watchfulness required than from the mere physical exertion. Muriel disclaimed feeling any discomfort or weariness The concentration of every faculty of her mind on the single thought of the doom overhanging her lover seemed to have deadened all sensibility to other considerations. She spoke only when addressed, and then with such obvious effort that her companions thought it better to leave her entirely alone Coverdale himself was beginning to feel a good deal more uncomfortable than he cared about. "We have covered about a hundred miles so far" he thought, "and taken over six hours to do it in. How I am to stick on past Bagshot and Hounslow I don't know It's all very well for people of cast-iron, like these youngsters who are at it every day and all day. But old fogies like myself are getting past that sort of thing." / ^u aie Marston's hunters were left at the Shaftesbury post-house ^!/°l'!!!^l'."':,>^'"g ^P^^'^"y fee'd to treat thenf well and send theai back to Sherborne. A hasty meal was here by Muriel. 1 he latter, after a peremptory remonstrance from mt m f 3B4 a l^cnt Squire the contractor tO(.k a glass of port before recommencing the liS future'r ''^'^ ''''''''' ^ '-«^ ^-^ ^^ ^»- -- from the mud which lay in all the lower' highwajl^^ in the same d.rect,on. At the cathedral city, which was reached Tst before nmc o'clock, a disagreeable difficulty met the travellers The postmaster, a surly boor, was just sufficiently dn.nk ^o refuse to attend to his business, and not sufficiently drunk to be helpless. Ihe ostlers, in terror of his temper, refused to furnish a relay in defiance of his orders, which were ac compamed by comprehensive curses upon ill travelfer who disturbed hmi at so late an hour. The matter was eventually sett ed by a pugilistic encounter between Coverdale and the postmaster who was persuaded to listen to reason after three rounds in the stable-yard in the approved fashion of he ng as taught at that period by the distinguished Mr. Figg of Adam and Eve Court, Oxford Street. The present of a couD?e guineas each fortified the ostlers against their apprehens^ns of what might befall them on the morrow, and secured thdr assistance in picking out a good relay n,i!!l^'"§ ^^^"'■'■ed 0" the road to Andover beyond five mmutes delay m cutting down the turnpike gate at the fork of the road to Stockbridge. This was kept by a blacksmith who had so constructed the hinges of the gate-doubtlesTfor reasons of his own-that it could not be removed^thout his professional assistance. He had locked the gate and was apparently either asleep or too drunk to respond fo CoverdaTel summons. The latter at once brought h s hatchet ^mont demolished the lock-post, and flung the gate open u fas th; aroused blacksmith stumbled out of the 'doorTay and poured a deluge of hiccupping execrations upon the travellers By he time he had realised the exact position of matters, the subjects of his criticism were a mile away on the road past Burv Hill and over the little river Anton into Andover.^ ^ At the latter place another serious check was experienced oTtL's^t there trt'n^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ --^^^' ^- ^^e '• It is Weyhill fair, sir," he explained. " All the beasts are over there." oeasts ...at IS nnfortunate," said Coverdale, turning to Noel 1 quite forgot the fair. It is the oldest and biggest in all" a ikeut Squire nimencing the of the same ; White Sheet iH events, free s in the same reached just the travellers, ntly drimk to ntly drunk to niper, refused lich were ac- raveliers who as eventually dale and the »n after three 1 of the ring, Mr. Figg of It of a couple pprehensions secured their beyond five e at the fork I blacksmith, doubtless for I without his ite, and was ) Coverdale's let into use, 1 just as the and poured lers. By the the subjects d past Bury 2r. jxperienced. : post-house ied, but the the beasts g to Noel. ggest in all a85 I the south country, and sweeps the district. Whose are al these liorses ? " ho ! .d the ostler. " Mostly the farMiers' hereabouts, sir." Coverdale dismounted, and took the ostler to the stalls " Show me the three or four freshest," he said. The ostler scratched his head, and finally oointed out a pair irom Foxcott, and a big mare from Enham Knights. These have not done much," he said. "Went to fair this morning, and have only done the four miles here since 1 he rest are pretty well used up." " Where are the owners of these three ? " "In the bar-parlour, sir." "Sober?" " Middling." " Do you know them ? " " These twenty years." " Will they sell ? " "You can try sir. This way, if you like to ask them." Coverdale followed the ostler into the inn. Five minutes afterwards he came out again and went to Noel "I have bought a couple of nags," he said, "but I can't get a third. Mistress Dorrington is the lightest weight amoncst us, and her horse must go a little farther. We may cet another mount at Whitchurch." ^ The two post-horses were left behind, and the journey was resumed At Whitchurch, after a little delay, a post- horse was obtained for Muriel. After this good progress was made till the party reached Basingstoke, about half an hour after midnight. The post establishment here was one of the largos^ in England five great roads from all parts of the country meetinK at his busy and important town. Coverdale was, of course well known here, and the post-boys, after they were once aroused flew to execute his orders. Three excellent horses which had not been out the previous day, were promptly [o theTtaW'es' "'°""' ^'°'" Whifchurch was taken ^^^What are you going to do with our purchases ? " asked Coverdale took him aside. n^p^^^^^''''"'/u''°"^°y'" ^^ '^'d- "^e may get no relay 3....-.., .....^ „,^jc is ihc Heath before us. You need nnt say anything to disturb mistress Dorrington " At this period, and, indeed, till long afterwards, many of I >^ 1 286 a fkcnt Squire i !- IM' ■; • :i St 1i the wide moors which were crossed by great hiehwav.; w^r^ witn exceedingly httle interference at the hands of th^ constituted authorities. So audacious, indeed were these SchaTTahfd'to'tr m"-' ^^^^^^^^ '" conrpa'y ''with marecnal lalard to the Newmarket races, was very nearlv stopped on the way by a party of gentlemen oF he road Travellers were expected to secure their own safety the bS way they could and every family coach crossed Bagshoto Hounslow Heath with a small battery of muskets or blunder wSwf "Se'"h"'^'"'^." °^ P^'^"^-^ ^-- °he carriage" windows Those who were dependent upon the oost for the means of locomotion had to trust for their protecdon to the very uncertain valour of the post-boys-a term indiscriminately applied to the employes of any age, from laSs to Sea ds ments^t t^e ITvI/^^ ''^ ^^^^^^ ^'^ differenf etS Noe^"' does that make, for our next stage?" asked full^^^ul °' ^l^^ ^^^ ^"^^"^y ""'^«' I should say-to Staines that will be. How do you feel ? " "Jiaines, " Fairly bad. But I'm not done up yet " "I wish I could say as much. I doubt whether I can keep in the saddle another hour. Mistress Dorrrngton s mply confounds me. I don't think she feels anything-I took^a ^ "uCV^llrstm'e ''^•■^"^°""^^- ^ -'^ ofimi^ir thl^^J''''^^ ""T ^'^"S''^ '■^""^' ^"d Coverdale went into of atob ' ' "'""'^^ ""'" ^"^ '°"^^^^^ °» '^^ chance he'callldir'^'T"/!'^^ blunderbusses to ride to Staines." fte called out. And I don't want fellows who will shut the r eyes if they have to let fly, and put their slugs into the sma of my back by mistake— d'ye hear? " services' ''^^nT^nf^X P'^^^P'^^ '""?" ^°''^^'''^^^ ^"^ °^^'^ nose with a good ; of a handkerchief ;r noteworthy, and 1 of returning the here on his horse's iim . » he said " and ot. I'll hold your TliK A.MnrscADi;. — I'agc :is:t. IS! hi ■(-' m\-' BMOtW'U . 1*. ' :i'..'« [ ^1^1 mmM: mi\ ■-) i 4. a ■»€« S(julre ,89 ou^of S ^aTrdid l''""?""'' P"";'"« *^ handkerchief hi. iw, ?i , ° '°' ''"'' "^^nie forward. Noel nn,)» at„L°dl l?,f "^ "" ^"^""^'^ '"^ 'he two others were ' Spur past the gravel-pit!" he cried ««Th;e .^ ^ , was going to signal to his friends there All c. '^^^^d'"^' past, and let us be ready to fire" '^"""P ^' ^^ 8° were saluted by fhree "^r ?our .hSf f?" "' ? «'"'°P' ""^ out of rhrho,L''„rad'';?.h:'p'art°"Th? """ ''^''^'^ 'o the ground, and his horse to«ed off acToss JhTr" '"" In the meantime annth^r ek Tu j u ^^^°ss the common. horse Noefwa Ldmi /nd N-\'^.^?^"" '^^ ^^g of the himself and Telravef^irR^^^^^^^ P^^^^^ between to gallop on aheaTwhrthefhaUeda^^^^^^^^ '°V' ''"^'^' who were riding out of the hoLw Th^H t"^ ^' '^'^^ '"'^^ - .he post-horrdTa rx,--; o^rrd^ roil :Xhe p^'bo*" "■'' ""•''"^'' ^""' -^ Coverdale abouT"?""'"'' *■"• ■">' "'^"' I 'hinlc?" said he. " Where- .hij^r^tf it°- *1hSS? oJ„™m Shoulder,, replied The L' '" "'.'""•" =^'d Coverdale. a lallTe^hTou'n'd fas fouS'' f k''L'^°=" ''"<' i^'^^et. and and was of no reaf consequence r„ "h^""'' "">' ^"s^tly " up, remounted with sorSe d.ffi;,,!?"'^'''?"'' 1""^")' l=<"">d proceed. Once off the H^J^fi, . "?' '""' K"' *e word to 3' - s h;StSs=?^r .o^LSn^. '"'^Ls^tlpe? P-^^^Xn'^.^'orReat^ -Hers at once uSdnor-^rCtui^prrtfoTad 19 290 IIP p ft a ment Sijuive flip |- !{ U \ Hounslow Heath. No incident marked the remainder of the journey to the capital, and the trio rode up to the " White Horse m Piccadilly a little after half-past three. Thev had come from Devonshire in thirteen hours. Coverdale was by this time very nearly prostrated, and he expressed a doubt as to whether he could be of much further use as a companion While the saddles were being transferred, he^rapidly scribbled two or three notes, and handed them to fKri-'r^".^° J'*^ y°v ^' ^^' ^' ^ ^^"'" ^e said, "but on the distmct understandmg that whatever happens to me vou will not stop an instant. These notes will secure you primpt attention at Dartford and Rochester-also at Greenwich and Gravesend, if you have occasion to stop, which you must try and avoid. We are very well up to time so far, and you ought to be m Maidstone before seven o'clock, if the nisht keeps clear and all goes well. How do you feel, Noel ? " Noel shook his head. J' ^^^ ^'''u ir''?^!; ^,T ^""^^ ^" ^^^ "^0"ey we don't need," ne said. if I hold on more than another hour or so I shall be agreeably surprised. I suppose a chaise-and-four or SIX would not help us ? " " Over these roads, not in the least. We should be flunc about h.e eggs m a wheelbarrow, and get there an hour too late after all. Let us be off again." A/r^? ^^u ^^^^^l the trio entered the western end of Pall Mall, the door of a house at the eastern end opened and two men appeared upon the threshold. The house was lord Oxford's town residence, and the prime minister had been sitting up till the small hours in close conclave with Mr. Matthew Prior, the poet, and the abb^ GauUier, the two confidential agents for Great Britain to the peace conferences at Utrecht, which had been formally opened on January 29th. Since Menager's return to Paris and Gaultiers sudden rise in the favour of lord Oxford, the abbe had been kept entirely in London, pending his intended departure to carry instructions to the bishop of Bristol. lord privy seal, who was the British plenipotentiary at Utrecht Mr Prior, who w-as very much bored and still more sleepy, had already gone off home in a hackney carriage The lord treasurer yawned as he shook hands with Gaultier, and complimented him upon his capacitv for Pndnrm^ lop,^ u^^-^ of business. ' ■& >6 u la "Your alertness at this hour puts me to shame, my dear e remainder of the up to the "White three. They had prostrated, and he De of much further : being transferred, d handed them to he said, "but on ippens to me, you secure you prompt at Greenwich and which you must e so far, and you lock, if the night feel, Noel ? " ly we don't need," ler hour or so, I a chaise-and-four 2 should be flung here an hour too tern end of Pall 2nd opened, and The house was ne minister had se conclave with b^ Gaultier, the n to the peace formally opened 1 to Paris and Oxford, the abbe :ig his intended ) of Bristol, lord at Utrecht, still more sleepy, riage. The lord I Gaultier, and iinnrr I/^pi-r t^n]]_n -■"■(^ '"''6 "wuia shame, my dear a mciit sauire ,,, deCateh TfrirTT- 7°' '"^'""■' I ""' """"Wul that that the'Sts'letet -Jise"' '° ^"" °' ""''' getting between be;;a^:5n?pSYhe7hiX^.t"Te V-e r IT '° tLT^:.r^^i:.- ' -- -- '«^ oTd^mii^tJrrd™ Gaul.,- r "But I crbe'h/.f"" •'" '' ^Mstone." explained " You nfM nif K ^ ^8-iin m the afternoon." Hou^e "or r^DoTnil^lVeTan T "'"i ?^^" >" "" *- with the queen TheiirntK '^''''' ""'' """ *at I dine May one ask if vour i™,™L "5 ^"^""^ '°' ^ ^ay or two. "Both^re^liS thi abhT " °" ''"'""^'^ °' pleasure ?" ya^ed'aglr""" "■■'' " ^'=^P^ 8'^"^^ "P «he street, and he:;woTomTaniXCod pt" "^ Sr^'',' '' "^ '^' -" is there nowhere th-if v™fn.i^o Heavens ! my dear abbe, "A thousand pal'nsmvlod'''s';r''' "".""Z '""'= '<"=' his eyes fixed on?he ZlZ^X^^'ZlT-^^'''"'- ^'^^ jumjed!^ Hb^ ot'rd'^^t'o? is^i't^b^'^t '' *^ "^ ^™ eloping with some intimate iriend of yours'" ""'' ""' '""' nised"sS'a";SaneerbuTr"'*"- J S^"^"' ' -"g' wish you good nTght! my ?ord .' """ P"'"'"'' "'^'^''^n- I «»gr(sarn^e"d''intoteTor''^^'" ''''^' *^ -•"'"-. the episolett t" ■'cfown'PlidTnSI,'; ?™'h ^™-" ^'^"^ -" not aware that the occunanTs of ^h ' ?-'^ ™' consequently Devonshire, was confoSnriM ?, ^- ?°"^8'= ''^d gone to in two of the riders who had pnss'e7" h"« "^f? ^"'^ ^oel conecture, to the stables ,>, "^htH "^™*<=d off, lost in his horse. " ""= Haymarket where he kept and' ln\S '^^i^Z nfeht'p .?"':« '", '-""don a. this hour «uld think s£ Cd be"st L ^rtrcoi-'™""^ " °- scnnment or from disgust " " "'' "" '-o^^^K'-'— euiier from ''"'' he muttered. "Can they have been after a Pi 15 il ', t: 292 a Ikent Squire pardon or a reprieve? St. John would do anything for a face like that. The queen is at St. James's, and they were coming from there. At a gallop, too-that looks like a successful appeal. Otherwise, why should they hurry ? » The abb^ started to run. ^^ " That must be stopped, at all hazards," he said to himself, even if I have to take to the role of highwayman for the oc'-?sion. It is unlucky they have got such a start." The breathless abbe managed to rouse the ostler at his hvery stables without much delay, and ordered his horse to be instantly saddled and taken to his lodgings in the Strand He ran on, in the meantime, to get out his pistols, and loaded them with unusual care. This was effected just as his horse appeared. He mounted, and set off at full gallop in the track of the three travellers. The latter had, in the meantime, continued their journey with undiminished speed, although not without considerable discomfort both to Coverdale and Noel. Muriel alone seemed as before, insensible alike to pain or fatigue. Half-way between Greenwich and Lartibrd Coverdale began to show signs of entire inability to proceed farther. Noel, whose exhaustion was not quite so compkuN noticed him more than once recline dangerously m the saddle. The next time this occurred hi brought his own horse alongside by a touch of the spur, and found that Coverdale was lividly pale, and riding with his eyes dosed. A couple of minutes later he lurched heavily against Noel, who was luckily near enough to prevent him falling M Jf^^r^"!^ "'^'^'' *° ^"^"^P^ to persevere farther, and to the round ^°"t'^^t°'' ^" ^'^ ^^"^^^t unconscious state. It happened that some small farm-buildings lay close to he road, the nearest of these being an empty shed, with some straw lying about. Noel half led, half carried Coverdale through the yard gate, which Muriel opened, and round behind a long haystack into the shed. Here he laid him on the ground and placed a couple of dry srtcks over his feet and shoulders, while a bundle of straw was used to proo up his head Muriel had followed, leading their two horses by their bridles Coverdale's was fastened to one of the posts of the shed; and Noel, with a good deal of effort managed to get into the saddle again. While this was tnkinor nUnt^ xUq -/^y-d q( .- 1 coming up at a gallop 7rom the direction of LondonTas heard. Ihe clattering of hoofs on the hard road reached anything for a s, and thty were liat looks like a iy hurry ? " e said to himself, iwayman for the . start." the ostler at his red his horse to igs in the Strand, stols, and loaded just as his horse illop in the track ed their journey out considerable iel alone seemed, lalf-way between 3 show signs of hose exhaustion ban once reeling his occurred he of the spur, and ng with his eyes i heavily against ent him falling. ire farther, and conscious state, gs lay close to ipty shed, with rried Coverdale ;d, and round e he laid him sacks over his IS used to prop leir two horses to one of the deal of effort, >f a horseman f London was road reached 1 U tkcnt Squire »g^ the point opposite the farm, went by without a pause and Saulfi'/r"^"''? ^k'V" ?' ^r""- '1^^^ "d^^ ^^' ^'^''"^bbl Gaul ler, who had taken the northern road to Maidstone rnamly on the chance of hearing something of his quarry at the diflTerent turnp.l - and post-houses alon| the road. It happened that a Crayford farmer with his wife and son were passmg through Dartford on their way to Gravesend market about a quarter to five, and a reply from the pike keeper there led the abb^ to suppose tha\ Muriel and^her escort were in front of him. He therefore pressed on to Rochester where he could learn nothing of the party Bm thmkmg that in the dark they had probably passed uCbserved ,f hf HM^n ? ""'^^ '^' ^''' °^ ^^' ^^y to Maidstonerand; o w it L tL'r' "P ^'^'^ '^^.'^''^ t^^^^"^^« °" 'he 'road SertsSrts 'oTthe" to7n.'°"""'^"^ ''^'^ ^^ ^^"^^ «"^ ^ In the meantime, Muriel and Noel had resumed their ourney at the best pace the latter could keep up. Thanks Ti SLTforf wheT V ff r''' "^^ P^^-Pt^y forthcom^g fiHU ' ^'^ ?°^^ t°°^ so"ie port wine, and after a httle pressure persuaded his companion to follow his examp L The immobility which had characterised Muriel since the r Mnii Is ^""^ harassing journey drew towards its close of stceedin'. in fh? ^''f '^"'•^^ 'l'^'''^' ^' '^ ^^e passSty or succeedmg in their enterprise, had by this time changed his rnmd, and saw no reason why Muriel, at all events should no be able to reach Maidstone in time. Thlmoon w^ t i f n^' 'T/^ '° '^^'■^ ^'ght for travelling, and the road S P[^se"'ed no particular obstacles Af ?h-f ^ ,°^ ^"^ uT °^^""^d o" the way to Rochester st n^ ret%astoV:btI^et^\f r T^^ set off on the last stage of their journey ^''""'° companions Ihe air seemed to have changed a ll„i» ., ,u„. ,,„,.. the sky thickened, the w,nd died away, and a murky stiUnea i ?5-| a ikcnt Squire l.egan to steal over the land. When they emerged upon the higher stretches of country on the plaLu of the Downs then consisting of almost entirely unenclosed common the moon was smkmg fast into a thick stratum of mist Although the sun was to rise about half-past seven, there wa as yet no sign of dawn, and the light failed rapidly ^ An impenetrable gloom settled down over the vast and desolate moorland, and no sound could be heard excTo^ tmck 'Th°'-.'^' !^"""' 'T ^^ '""'y ^^'" "P- the saJfd'y rack. Ihe nders began to find a diffic -Ity in distinguishing the roadway from the tracts of blac.cned heather whch bordered it for several miles. The moon's disc struggled dimly through the low-lying murk, and then disappeared ^^ Five minutes later Noel noticed with apprehension that the roadway, which had become almost losfto s'g t ?n the gathering darkness, was no longer under their flet The horses were quite evidently stepping on short turf. We have strayed from the track, I am afraid," he said I will get down and look about. This thickness is a S v We ought to have had the light of the dawn before now '' "^ '' He had scarcely spoken, when his horse stepped into some hole, and fell violently on his knees, fl ngfng Nod to the ground head foremost. Muriel gave a 1 ttle cry leaned rjl^s'cious' 'ZT 'y-S/-,^l^d up. and ^p'pa^e^Tly unconscious. She dismounted and knelt beside him He was insensible, cold, breathing feebly, and nearly ri^eless Muriel had had some considerable eWiencfo' L S of the hrV "^"^M^'i ^"^ y.^^°g"'^ed that this was concussTon pfobVdying n'^ow.^ "" -'' ''' '' ^"^ "---^' -^ -« She managed, with difficulty, to get him into a more comfortable position, and sat down with h^s head rS upon her knee. She realised, with a spasm of the heart hat this disaster was fatal. It was still ve?y dark, and the 'road miles away, and they had not met a living being since eavmg Rochester. It was equally impossible 1o leLvl Noel Muriel took out her watch. It was too dark to see the time, but she opened the case and felt for the dia w th the tips of her fingers. It was c,even o'clock. A..h...e^"d nne hour to live. Her hands fell, and she" sat m'otionless gaz^nJ before her with the calm of an infinite despair. ' ^ ^ merged upon the J of the Downs, ;d common, the mist. Although there was as yet er the vast and )e heard except upon the sandy in distinguishing heather which s disc struggled isappeared. ^prehension that t to sight in the heir feet. The urf. afraid," he said, ckness is a pity. ;fore now." e stepped into , flinging Noel little cry, leaned and apparently side him. He learly pulseless, ce of accidents was concussion nent, and was 1 into a more is head raised the heart, that , and the road n was probably g being since to leave Noel, nee. Nothing ark to see the dial with the shrDc.e had one ionless, gazing 1^ "The tolling of a bell.' -Page ;.'ur,. i f a Ikent Squtrc 295 The horses, released from their burdens, l)egan to seek the scanty herbage, and slowly moved to and fro, with their noses to the ground, dragging thei.- bridles as they went, hoon they strayed further, and were lost in the gloom. The sound of their hoofs as they crushed the heather-stems came more and more faintly, and then ceased altogether. Now and again a heavy fluttering announced the passing of a horntd owl or some other disturbed night-bird. Then, after a pause, came the cry of a peewit, alarmed by the browsmg horses. Far away across the moorland there was heard at rare intervals the quack of wild ducks from some pond or bog in a hollow of the uplands. Once a curlew wandermg mland from the sea, startled Muriel for an instant by Its shrill scream as it flew past overhead. Then all was suent again. An hour went by. The darkness had given way to a grey twilight, and the face of the moor could be dimly seen for a few yards around. Some rabbits stole from their burrows close at hand, and began to nibble in fearless dis- regard of the two motionless forms. Noel had not moved since his fall, and lay where he had been placed, in scarcely animate torpor. Muriel sat unconscious of her surroundings, her face rigid and pale, and her wide-open eyes, with dilated pupils, fixed immovably on the slowly extending horizon. All at once a passing breath of - •, so slight as scarcely to lift the curls that rested on he: .loulder, swept gently over the moorland from the south-west. Borne upon it came something that was more a tremor than a sound, afinitely faint and distant, but solemn and prolonged. After an interval of perfect st- ess, the same vibration again trembled for a moment upon the air, and thon died away into silence. It was the tolling of a bell. CHAPTER XXXVIII MAIDSTONE £.V f£:TE About nine o'clock that morning the immense concourse of people which had thronged the streets of Maidstone since dawn, and made the neighboir-hood ot the gaol itself quite impassable for more than an hour, began to disperse. The morning had been so gloomy and the air so thick that not a ! .. flINi II : •• 296 ^ "Rent Sgutre of tt^Vx'e^r ^^^^^ --if ctory view remainder waited aboutTn the hoDe^hL; thi h' ^'^^PP°'"ted sufficiently for them to catch a aW^rf l u^ ^^^ "^""'^ <^^ear before the' -guS^sSy 'n^nt^^^^^ ^^^^ down. When this wa<: nf ilcf i e^P'red and it was taken the gaolerfLd dirappeLed wth"'^'"^^^^^ ^"^ prisoS, the mass of 'p^e^r^tors I^^^^ '^' directions to enjoy the rest of f hi ki ? ^"^ scattered in all which were congenial to them Thf ^ '" '^' "^"°"^ ^^^^ swings were started hnnic > • V"^ merry-go-rounds and of th'e crrj^rl'rs and sho^^^^^^^^ uT^ H^?^^' *'^ ^°°^^^ unrolled their carpets and S^ 7k • ?J """"^ *^^ mountebanks of the ginshL sTooH ^? ^k ^^ '^'■""''- '^^^ landlords the usuirSnTemenf o?Thet°"^^^^^^ -^^-^"tly get drunk for a penny and H^n^H h ' I ^r ^"^^°"^ers could that straw to lieC;ould b:1u?nThe/^S'To\r advantage of these privileges the ^ooH fn^tc ^ \, ^"^ ^^^^ various taverns until they^were so full ?i.. T'l^ 'TJ^^ be placed outside to accoL"oT.te"heterflL'^^^^^^ '^' ^° une group of persons thus provided for con<;,<;fpH ^f . • srn": ritSat" "S"*-.. w^fr^ t?c of the town and two o^l^^IV""!"^ ^J" *" P^'i^h *'k comparing no.eronTe e^e^o? thT^rnr"' "'^ ""^ medtiyrj" '"""'"^ ■'""■'«''' ''PPi»8 his gin witi, a andTonLln-: rXenTe^n''""^' 1"' "° ''^''"S ^P--'' property i„ .i,e coun.f " ra.kir'lr"','''''' \»''" ■" dying speech, let alone'a conftss^n A ' mlel'n" ^Z "" have known better " gentleman ought to '•'rwartaM;" "'°,^ ""^l" ''^''^'" ^^M "-^ captain, clerk ^ ronisinslv'-arrf' f '""' 8»,iemen," explained the noticeJf„s.hr!f' dJ^^g-^^-J-e '°ok no .ore Not a bit more," assented one of the listeners •■NoT'rtrnlr,^!"!'!^'"?'.""." preceded the clerk. or even a hi^hwiy ri^S^ir^?^^'^' ^^^^^^ %' t satisfactory view riie disappointed B day would clear e suspended body and it was taken le hangman and irden inside the i scattered in all the various ways ry-go-rounds and play, the booths the mountebanks The landlords wled incessantly customers could ■ twopence, and ;ratis. To take poured into the benches had to listed of captain :ome over from he parish clerk nen, who were sider the whole had a right to ;ed of captain "s gin with a dying speech and a man of is to have no man ought to :aptain. explained the ^ok no more 2d the clerk, coining affair, raightforward B •Rent Squire ."' ' .1 -.1 297 murder, and caught in the act. And to be hung in chains, The speaker added this detail of the programme as if suggestmg a further reason why the condemned man owed extra consideration to the persons who were good enough to come and see his sentence carried out. '•Where's that to be ?" asked the captain. "At some cross-roads on a common outside Deal, as I understand," replied the clerk. -They'll start with th^ body as soon as the smith gets the chains and bars riveted It's a good day's journey to Deal from here, you see " fh A*^ ^^l' T°™^"* ?^ "^''^^ °^ ^ P^d^^'- became audible up the street, shouting the merits and prices of his wares part of which consisted of ballads, chapbooks, and lives of ce e^brated crimmals. Many of the crowd could be seen investing an odd t'he p'erTod As t"'' '^'''"""^ ?' ^^^ P°P"^^^ litefature of he period. As he came nearer he could be heard calling One penny !''' '^' "^"'^" •' ^^^^^^ '^'''^ «^ '^' »""SS ;; D'ye hear that, master clerk ? " asked a bystander, cr, u^ c^A^^u^ speech!" went on the pedlar. "Dvincr speech of Ambrose Gwynett ! Only a penny ! Just printed' fresh from the printer's office." ju^t priniea, " He^mLl J "^''^•'^ ^^^'^ ^ ^^•■^ • " ejaculated the clerk He must have said summat to the chaplain. Here pedlar give us a dying speech ! " ' P^^'^"^ ' for\^= r^^^' ^^^^""^ ^'? ^ '■°"gh folded leaflet in return for his penny and went slowly on. The clerk took the oaoer which was a lurid account of the supposed crime and fnrnS Ther^snowt htT' ''^" ^'^ ^'^'''^ "^^^^'^ ^^-P^-h ? "Well, he said nowt," bawled the pedlar in reply by the bucoirS ' "^"'^ susceptible of acute appreciation uy ine Ducolic m nd, and it was accordingly received with -, guffaw from everybody except the clerk, who thrust the mner 1 reckon we'd better get under wav brother K\f " h« -..^ .„j^tttiii cjcu aim severely. I daresay you're right, brother Matt," he reioined « T daresay madam Matthew Kermode will hlVe sonSg'io say 111 ;!'■' J! ill S 298 n ment Squire if you're away from her apron-string too long. And I daresav what she says will be infernally unpleasant,%nd ptnty of k Ihat makes it agreeable to come out on a little holiday 2oesJ'tr '" Matt-monstrous agreeable-sink me f ^ Matt thrust his hands into his breeches' pockets with a depressed a.r. His three brothers looked at him with gToomy reproares!' " "^ '^''' '^"^P'^^^ ^'^^ '^^ ^^^P^^^"'^ "Any fool could have seen how the land lay in that quarter," went on the captain, evidently nursing a grievance '' And why you took upon yourself to sign articles bShfnd ou; backs, instead of coming to us to cut you loose, beats me- clean beats me, it does." The unhappy Matt was driven by the severity of the^e criticisms to an attempt to defend himself. h.ry''" se/' ^fother Kit," he remarked deprecatingly, "she has a wonderful persuading sort of way with her. And she tTprotTct her°i!^''"' ^''"^ '° ^^^ ^^°"' ^°^ ^""^ ^^ ^ "^^^ /'Listen to that!" muttered the captain, waving his arms with a gesture of measureless contempt. ^ "And the berth seemed very comfortable, you'll admit" continued the culprit. ^ ' f. 'I y^ y ^o'^fo'-taWe for a customer, and all the more com- fortable If he s a deaf customer," said the captain. " If you'd stopped at that, one needn't have said a word. But to eo countir— ''''^' '"'^"'"'^ °^ '"""'"^ ^°' y°"' ^'^"°^ °^^^ the At this stage words failed the speaker, and he got up to mingle with the crowd in the thoroughfare. His half-brothers followed him m sympathetic silence, with the much-enduring Matt bringing up the rear. "umig A gentleman, who had mounted his horse in the tavern-vard was coming out of it as the brothers reached the centre of he street. Re rode at a walking pace, and seemed to be awaiting some arrival from the direction of the gaol His overcoat collar was turned up to his ears, and he wore his tVfu \urn^'l^^^' ^' '^ ^°"^d ^<^" be carried. This was the abbd Gault.er, who had completed his journey to Maidstone without encountering any of Coverdale's party. He had mingled with the crowd round the "niio-- ,,^.-i J^ drop lell, and had spent the intervening time, for reasons of his own, in hard drinking. . And I daresay id plenty of it. I little holiday —sink me if it pockets with a im with gloomy I the captain's d lay in that Jg a grievance. :les behind our se, beats me — I'erity of the^^e catingly, "she ler. And she rant of a man ving his arms you'll admit," le more com- n. " If you'd . But to go ^uor over the he got up to i half-brothers luch-enduring e tavern-yard, the centre of seemed to be te gaol. His he wore his arried. This s journey to ■dale's party. )r reasons of a ment Squire 299 oth^r ThrT°l^^^ passers-by noticed him, and nudged each fn^; ^ ^^^'u "^ •' P"^ °^ ^^^'^' ^"d he pointed out Gaultier to Kermode with a jerk of his thumb. '-'auiuer " That's the man he pointed at," said the clerk in the caotain'. ear. " I was standing close to him " ^ ;; I saw nothing," replied the captain. Didnt you? Why, when the prisoner came on to the gallows-or was earned, for he seemed more dead than alive mark you-he took a sort of careless look round, and some^ thmg seemed to catch his eye just behind m^ tT.«« k straightened himself up, and /ung'out h s Trm wfth h^Lt pomtmg-this sort of way, d'you tee ? "--and the clerk suld he action to the word-" his other hand stretched out to the I asCe'y'ou.''^' '^'' " ' "^^ ^^^' ^^^^ ^^ blooVrun 'co ^ his cleel'^^"'' ""' ''^" '"'^ '^' ^^P^^'"' ^"^"'"g the quid in " Ay, it was," went on the rlerlr "t fi,..„^j j fircf ^r^^ u ^^ had had a sort of grin on his face at had gone; buf thaf s h?m againZ tte ht e"'" ^'™8'"'« ■"= ihe captam pointed towards the gaol Something's going on there," he said. towa'r Th" 'i"of "t": laTe^ '^'rr' ^^^^ ^" ^'-^ions were put out of windows and Z ''"'^ '^T ""^P^'^^' heads were deserted i^ a trS The V^T"? F^^""' of amusement body was coming! Ind the s^eef l^^ ^''" ^'^''^^^ ^hat the minutes almost impassable ' ^''""'^ '" " ^^"P^^ ^^ of The' ga^TTard"^ Thl '"'"^'^' ^'"^^^^'^ ^^°«^ ^he side door secured by certain iron hnr.,?-^ ^^"i^ ^'^^'^ ^'o'h, and vehicle joLd over the ^o ,. h ""^'' ^^'"^ ^'^"^^ed as the t / . "v^^'oe rough pavemeni. A oo,„jp ^r .u , bXeTeTepJesettati'verof*""^ ^^^'^ ""^ '^'^ ;;ik;d an opening ^CTt\,1o>Ti:\:tZ°r^J:. -^'^- i» 300 4l> I Wr a Itcnt Sgutie soo?Lt;'edTb';^J^^^^^^^ broth-, ,ere spectators. It was Miti^i n ? ^Al^ ^^^y'"g '"ass of /ght of her,'a„TlookeT'ha^. rSi ,I''Lt''L""«l'H' anJg™St rept' """' '' *'"™'' "'"' "^^ ^'"^ "> "'m, .0 droH srel,:t ir.- ''"" ^''^ '°* ■•" ^ bad way-ready and^'Sj'd^rU; rged eyeT^oLS""" "■'' ''^^ -- f^"^". yoJa^k'^ee^oro^S/rdV^'T^e^'lt^^^^^^ '^if *ar',tT"^V.P r ='-'™ w" rds ,he gaol, whip ' "■* P"'°"' ^he asked, pointing \i,i, "Yes, mistress," replied the clerk. I must go there." ius:p.^■'i^4^tr'rs;•te'?"^•'"'=''^^- with a^o^'oCS'd'rr ''"*'- ""''"'^"--^ f"™"'ns an;L\%rKerodr""Miytasr^:„?r*'<' "'^*''' '" he^. inquired of Muriel, XltrZlstTST^'i: her^'gr on thfg:^,"''" ™«"^'^ '« » "">■»»'. » were parted, rowd with an lickened, and ystanders. lerk, " unless he gaol. ^g with her nistress — but ad furrowing the clerk in I, mistress ? " ^ to keep it d then fixed '. "1 wish ucse people "ong, which H fkcnt Squire 301 had been doubled within the last minute by various persons running round through the side streets and entering the main road a little ahead. The clerk looked aghast. " Good Lord, ma'am ! " he ejaculated, •* you're the day after the fair — Ambrose Gwynett is " Kermode clapped his hand brusquely over the clerk's mouth. "Hold your jaw, mate," he growled under his breath. Then he turned to Muriel, and asked commiseratingly, " Do you happen to know Ambrose Gwynett, mistress ? " "He IS my betrothed," replied Muriel. "I want to see him. I must see him." " Lord ! Lord ! " muttered the captain, turning a lugubrious face towards his half brothers. " This is a bad job— a terrible bad job. Let's get her out of the road, boys. She mustn't see anythmg of that trolley yonder, and it will be here in a couple of mmutes. ' The brothers grunted an assent, and the clerk nodded his head sympathetically. K -^P^lfu "'' "^^^^'■ess," he said, taking the horse by the bridle, by coming a little way out of the crowd. We're afraid of some accident, if you keep here, and in the saddle " Muriel allowed the horse to be led, as quickly as the throne would permit, towards the stable-yard. Just then the pedlar*' who had got into the tavern from the rear, elbowed his waj^ out of the front door with a fresh sheaf of leaflets in his hands and a repetition of his former cry, "Here you are! Here you' are! Full account of the horrible murder at Deal ! Execution of the murderer at eight o'clock this morning ! Only a penny ! HiT mist 'ess '' he bawled to Muriel, who was at'the moment close oh m "buy a dying speech? Only a penny ! Dying speech of— » finSrs'sh^t ouf .'n? f^^/)'^y '" ^ g^^g^e as Kermode's fingers shot out and closed m a strangling grip round his "Stow your gab, you blethering idiot I " hissed the caotain Zl^f^'V^ ^'^^^' ^^" ^'^ ^ '^^h rattled in hi head! aid then flung him from him against the wall of the tavern. Id'ot yourself!" growled the pedlar sullenly oullina hi^ disordered neckcloth and looking round to see ?f he wa f kell to get any backers. " Is a man not to ^^t nn h.n" . i!, L!! . »^ The sheriffs procession was now abreasTof them"' Muriel caught sight of it, and asked suddenly, ^ "What is that?" ^ ill: i i" 302 B meat Squire Ke'^mnHf?'^^-.'' .°" ^^^ °PP°''*^ «^d^ Of the horse to where ' Thn.1 r'^'/T"'^ •:°""d ^"d replied with alacrity? mats the body, mistress— going to be hTina ,-« ^Ko- you see-judge's sentence." ^ ^ ""^ '" ''^^^"«' The pedlar saw his opportunity to get bevond K-^rmr^^oV reach, ^and dodged round^ .he hoV Souti„7at t'^V^ "This is the body of Ambrose Gwynett ladies anrl .^^nfio men. hung this morning for robberranVmtder" Buy a full ^account! Buy a dying speech? One penny-only' I Kermode devoted the pedlar to the infernal regions and looked anxiously at Muriel, who seemed to Tave ciught nothmg but the name of her lover caugnt must^TehTrS"V',%f^'^^^^^^^^^^ " Is Ambrose there ? I fTward ' ' ""^^^ ^ movement to urge her horse vJJ""- '^^Pi^^n hurriedly turned the horse towards the stable toed. '' '°P' ''^^ """"^^'^ ^"-^^- -"Id therebrbe "This way. mistress— this way." he said thil-^ T"""^"* '^^ ^^d '^'PPed to the ground and handed the rems to a gipsy boy who stood close by ^ "soJ^er^a^^^^::;^^^^^^^^ °^ ^^^ ^^^^-^- ^-^-t. The interest of the crowd was instantly diverted from th. .Z^"" ^he remarkable beauty of the speaker A dozen peoole II Yes. Where is ae ? " "Why. here, mistress— of course." 1 [^P^'^^f'^T? his arm in the direction of the bier Muriel looked peri^exed but went forward as the bystander; opened a way for her almost involuntarily. The sheriff stonnedh^ remonstrances to the crowd which WblockTnfwf^^^^^ and stared open-mouthed at Muriel as she came^ towards him The whisper was rapidly passed about that thirwas he murderer's sweetheart, and all within reach stood on their toes and craned their necks to see so intpre^tin^^ ^Tr— '^- " VVhat can I do for you. mistress ? " asked t1ie sheriFwlth a politeness born of mingled surprise and admiration ' orse to where lacrity, ng in chains, id Kermode's at the top of !s and gentle- der ! Buy a ;nny — only a regions, and have caught >se there? I rge her horse Is the stable- i thereby be and handed iers in front. ed from the iozen people Jarty turned rocession to d the pedlar, ier. Muriel iers opened stopped his lis advance, )wards him. is was the )d on their sheriff, with n. <( «> a Ikent Squire 303 'It is Ambrose, sir," replied Muriel, her eyes wanderine round. "I want to see him." ;' => wdnaermg " Certainly, mistress, if you've a fancy that way," replied the sheriff m an obligmg tone. cpueu cne He went to the front of the bier, raised the black cloth that lay over the body, and uncovered the head and shouWers o Ambrose Gwynett. A sudden silence followed and a tlirH ran through the bystanders at the sight of thrrn^rWe feature splendid m the.r still repose, and\earing arexpLss^ro^ nfinite calm. Not a whisper was heard as MurieT with a httle start bent forward and seemed to call softly to her lover The sheriff looked on rather puzzled, until he caught S of Kermode winking at him and tapping his forehSd He l^X^eX '"' """"^ turned''to1.im an'safd und^e? "He is asleep. Why is he asleep ? » The sheriff was rather disconcerted by this Question nn^ scratched h.s head in the search for inspLtfon.^^Thrcro^d looked at one another, and some women began to crv The captain's attention was so fixed upon Muriel thoffh; • ^^n^rotdT^Sl^-^^^^^^ on."%"yTr k/v'e— ^kn^'t"^ V^'"^ "^ ^-^ be getting the cloth ^"*^ ^^ "'^^^ ^ movement to replace ha^d'onThe'doIh" ^^"^^^^ ^^^ ^ " -^ed Muriel, putting her kissed i[. ' ^^^^- ^^^" she leaned over and and'^bl^bte^^dtudly^a^l sTve^Zf^tr '^' T^' '^'^ ^^^ as women, followed his examoTe tL 'k'T^' T" ^' ^^" the cloth, and made a sign To ^his men Thl^h" '^ ''""^'''^ the bier forward, and Muriel wi/h ?^' ^^ ^^^^" *° P"^^ puzzled expression upon ht fet SedT'T^- ^"^ ''^^^ crowd kept the party comnanvnnH Zu . ^^''^^ '^- '^^e left nearly empty ^^"^P'lny. and the street was gradually One of the few spectators of the scene v^hr. ■ ^ behind was Gaultier Th*. nhu^ v l ^"° remained tuuier. ihe abb^, hvid and trembling all mil I MiHi^ 304 H Ikent Squire over ordered his horse to be put up again, and re-entered the tavern parlour. He was just ripening for one of his occa- sional bouts of furious drinking, and the events of the morninc brought matters to a climax. He flung his hat down, fell into a seat, and ordered a bottle of brandy from t Sead""'" ''"'"°'' "" "'"'"« '"^ ""'P'""™ " Thank the Lord ! that's over," he said fervently " It's spoiled my appetite for the next week, sink me if it hasn't 1 ve seen many a poor devil with his toes turned up, but banc me if anything ever cut me up like this. What a wench, boys 1 what a wench ! " ' ^^joi Matt blew his nose, wiped his red eyes, and remarked, Ihe poor lass must have had her wits turned by the news It's a mortal pity." ' The captain seized upon this opportunity of turning the conversation into a less lu^'ubrious channel. "There's one good job. Matt," said he. « Vour widow wouldn't make anybody blubber with her goings on, if you were ^ be hung twice over. Let's all have a drink, and mkke sail. It will be dark before we get to port " The family party made their way to the bar parlour, where Gaultier was sitting by the window with his bottle and glass nlZ7'fr ,H^' '^^^'S ^°°^ ^""' ^^^^"^^^d by the incident on the scaffold, and still more shaken by the circumstances attending Muriel's appearance on the scene, had taken little or no notice of Kermode and the brothers. But as they entered It recurred to his memory that these were the persons who had left the door of the 'Crown and Anchor' just as he arrived at it on New Year's Eve. He had taken care to beat a retreat from Deal the morning after Gwynett's arrest without making himself known, and Ld also XJned Tom presenting himself as a witness at the trial-both these steps being a result of the belief that he had done enough to render Gwynetts conviction a foregone conclusion independently of his own testimony. This view had of course proved ^i^^'T °"? i""^ ^^^ ri"^^"" ^^^ g°"^ ^"to the box primed with the widely circulated report of the abbe's original story altnough It was not in the least in evidence ; and had privaS Sti™ a^one^; "^"^ °" '^' ^'^'"^^^ °^ '^'' ^"8^"*°"' Gaultier's chief anxiety in all this had been to avoid the slightest overt connection with the fate of his rival, as being md re-entered ne of his occa- jf the morning down, fell into le perspiration /ently. " It's e if it hasn't. up, but hang wench, boys ! marked, : by the news. ' turning the Vour widow s on, if you nk, and make arlour, where tie and glass ' the incident nrcumstances 1 taken little But as they i the persons chor' just as aken care to 'nett's arrest, frained from I these steps gh to render idependently urse proved box primed riginal story, lad privately at ingenious avoid the ^al, as being a IRent Squire 305 more than likely to add to Muriel's prejudice against him even if she were led by force of appearances to be convinced of Gwynetts guilt. He was therefore not at all desirous of being recognised by the Kermodcs as a visitor to the ' Crown and Anchor' on the night of the supposed murder, and consequently kept his back to the party as they gave their order and sat emptying their glasses. By and-by their chaise was brought round, and they took their departure. Ihe abb^, more at his ease, proceeded with his bottle, and kept a careless eye on what was passing out- hoi^i. ^^°"^ f" ^fV^^^\' ^^^'' ^^^'"g ^"te^ed upon another bottle, he noticed the clerk coming down the street from the gaol, walking alongside a chaise-and-pair in which sat an elderly gentleman who looked completely broken down by gnef or illness. The clerk seemed to be giving him an account of the events of the morning, and they parted company jus opposite the tavern. The landlord was at the door and touched his hat. The gentleman nodded, s^ned to tSe dSp^'earid. "'' °" '" '^' ^'''''''''' °^ ^^^'' ^"^ '^^ chaise .k"i^^^? T ^''^V" t^^ <^haise, host?" asked the abbd as the landlord passed through the parlour a minute afterwards. Lawyer Wrottesley of Canterbury, sir," replied the host ' He IS agent for the Thornhaugh estate-the propen^^^^^^^ longing to the man w4io was hung this morning. ^ Eve S^^^^^^ has been wondering why he was not at the trial.'' ^^'^y'^oay rr.} 1 ' '"5.;"!f ^'°" "^{"^ "°^ particularly interest the abbd. He merely nodded in reply, and the landlord, not finding himself sTSt'ii-dts. ''' ^"^""^ ^' ''^ ^^^' - -vaUg 'o The sheriff's men transferred their burden to the cart «nr1 the «'q"-on Th-Y- r - ^^ ^° accompanv them in come bv^he c2rlf ' "''""•■' ^° ''''' P^^P^^^l were over-" tow'a^ds'De'al.^^" he VeclafoVol '^H ^^''^^^-"^^ ^"^^ °^ ine spectators of the morning, who had 20 I' .. 306 H Ikciit Squire accompanied the bier so far, returned at their leisure to Maidstone. ♦ • • * ♦ At about seven o'clock the same night, on a dreary waste of common near some cross-roads to the west of the outskirts of Deal, a gibbet rose darkly against the first fiiint liglit of the moon, glinmiering through thick mists. From its outstretched arni hung a curious framing of rings and horizontal bars, in which was fixed the motionless form of Ambrose Gwynett, the head bent forwards and the face hidden by the long hair which had been blown over it by a passing breeze. On the ground beneath, covered with a black cloth, lay Muriel Dorrington. Her arms clasped the foot of the gibbet, and she seemed asleep, unconscious, or dead. The sky was heavy with low-lying clouds, and gusts of wind swept at intervals over the inky solitude. I hen the gibbet creaked, and its burden swung slowly to and fro till the failing of the wind brought it to rest again. CHAPTER XXXIX AT THE CROSS-ROADS Captain Kermode and the four brothers arrived at the ' Crown and Anchor ' a little before sunset. They had dined at Canterbury, lest a worse thing should befall them, and the captain — mollified by his meal and a jorum of excellent Schiedam — had volunteered to escort the truant Matt to the tavern, instead of betaking himself with the three juniors to the Royal Mary. But it fortunately happened that madam Matthew Kermode was in a very amiable mood when the party presented them- selves on their return, and there appeared to be no particular need for the sheltering aegis of the valiant captain. The latter had his own explanation of this fortunate circumstance, and he imparted it in an early aside to Matt. "Your wife has had some old sweetheart spooning with her all day, brother Matt," said he pleasantly. " D'ye think so, brother Kit ? " asked Matt with earnestness. " I do, lad," replied the captain. "Let's find hmi, and stand treat," suggested Matt, in a burst of gratitude. i"S!l their leisure to a dreary waste of the outskirts Lxint light of the its outstretched izontal bars, in ibrose Gwynett, sn by the long ing breeze. On oth, lay Muriel the gibbet, and J sky was heavy at intervals over and its burden wind brought it arrived at the ;t. They had Id befall them, d a jorum of ort the truant with the three :thew Kermode resented them- e no particular captain. The circumstance, spooning with ith earnestness. ;d Matt, in a 'i ^i a mcnt Squire 307 "Don't trouble about that, brother Matt. If he's kept sober up to now, he must be as big a fool as they make 'em Come mto the bar— we shall have no peace till we've snun our yarn and got done with it." * ^ It is needless to state that the whole establishment of the Crown and Anchor,' together with a numerous contingent of outsiders who crowded the tap- room, were all agog to hear the details of the execution, and a certain amount of sympathy was elicited by the brothers' story of the events of the morning bince the trial, public opinion in Deal had rather receded Irom the first enthusiastic conviction of Gwynett's guilt After it had been found that the supposed assassin was a well-to-do landowner of the county, instead of an unknown passer-by, the theory that a flagrantly incautious crime had been commuted for the sake of a (ev^ guineas appeared a httle improbable. The accused's own version of his posses- sion of the purse began, therefore, to be considered by the village gossips quite as likely an explanation as any other Had Gwynett been assisted by counsel at his trial, the obvious absence both of motive and of the cor/us de//ai~the body of his supposed victim-might have been made to turn the scale in his favour But this did not happen to be the case When committed for trial, which was a proceeding despatched w.«f n'J '"'T'' ^'y '^' ^""''^ J"«^'^^ «^ ^'^^ peace, Cnett was not sufficiently recovered from his serious injuries to reply to questions or even understand them. On his removal o Maidstone gaol he had given a few t.rticulars about Tim self and had requested that Mr. Wrottesley should be sent for to advise him about his defence. But the Canterbury lawyer had never made any appearance Gwynett forthwith caught gaol fcver-a most common S of the insanitary condition of the prisons of the period-and was either prostrated semi-unconscious, or delirious during his imprisonment and tnal. The crown lawyers, therefore had matters very much their own way. The udJe of th^ WhTgs ' The'; hi? ^'"'T °' '''u °""^y -re boihtnolou w^ .u ; ^ ^'^M ''^''"''^ °'''^'' their twelfth bottle the ni^ht before that a pestilent foreigneering Jacobite like Gwynet?was probably a Jesuit spy of the chevalier's, and had better be deprived of any chance of helping the traitorous Tory m n stry m their machinations acainst fh TV..^«cto,,. ... ' :f_ '"l^^.'^y jury-box had been packed with Whig fe;me7s wht'Jkou'^ht to be lost , and they promptly responded to the appeal of '*m. \ i| ! : 308 a Tkent Squtrc the judge that they would not, by dawdling over their verdict of guilty, keep him from his dinner. The affair had thus been disposed of with the least possible waste of time and trouble to all concerned, and with quite as near an approxi- mation to justice as was customary at the period. It may as well be mentioned in this place that captain Kermode had no idea that the supposed murderer and the owner of the F/eur de Lys were one and the same person. No name had been mentioned to him by Marlborough in their interview at Eekeren, and as neither he nor his half brothers could read a single word, the ship's papers furnished at Ostend conveyed \.o them no information whatever. Had they, more- over, felt any curiosity concerning those documents- which did not happen to be the case — it is possible they had ex- cellent reasons for not seeking outside assistance in decipliering them. After the demand for news in the bar of the ' Crown and Anchor ' had been adequately met hv the newcomers, an adjournment was made by some of t le regular customers to the now famous parlour. Here the captain and his half- brothers held a sort of reception with much dignity, and with a readiness to drink at other people's invitation which earned golden opinions from the landlady. The conversation turned upon the addition to the sentence upon the condemned man which comprised the hanging in chains from a gibbet erected near the scene of the crime. This feature was at the time a frequent one in cases of offences against property, which then, even more than now, were punished with considerably greater severity than crimes of violence. T'.ie body of the executed criminal, instead of being interred, was suspended in a framework of rings, bars, and chains from the gibbet, and left there till time and the elements brought about its gradual decay and disappearance. Amongst the company in the parlour were two respectable strangers who had rather the air of being bagmen or travelling mercers, and who listened to the details of Gwynett's execution and the removal of the body to the common with a good deal of interest. One of them asked several questions about the size and strength of the irons, to which the Kermodes were not in a position to reply. " But they'll last out the poor fellow that's in 'em," remarked the captam. "J^or my part 1 don't see why children and folks passing by are to be faced with that kind of show for a dozen years or more. When a man's been scragged, there's 'er their verdict iffair had thus e of time and ;ar an approxi- I. :e that captain derer and the le person. No (rough in their is half-brothers shed at Ostend ad they, more- jments- which ; they had ex- in deciphering le ' Crown and lewcomers, an r customers to and his hulf- gnity, and with I which earned to the sentence he hanging in e crime. This ses of offences an now, were lan crimes of 1 stead of being ngs, bars, and d the elements ice. wo respectable ;n or travelling lett's execution th a good deal ions about the Lermodes were em," remarked children and id of show for ragged, there's a f(cnt Squire 309 n?h!"i°^'* '"'"■ r'.?'' ^"'^ ^^'^'^ ^"g'lt to be an end of it for other people, say I nearly I've known a man hanging on Bagshot Heath twenty years,' commented one of the bagmen. I hats a goodish time," said the captain. "You're from those parts, I reckon ? " * "" re irom replied, ^''^"'''"' ''^'"" '"'^''''"^ ^ nudge from his companion, "No. I come from Portsmouth, like my friend here." The captain nodded and filled his pipe. backionl^:th'■:^^^^^^^^ '° ""'^^^■'^- "^'-''-y« to the "This fellow may be swinging there just as lone for ill we know," remarked the bag.mn, lifting his glass to ht Z air at th'P'"" '^'^'"'"^^ ^° h^^^ his 'tumbler of gin hf the a r at the same uouu nt, and looking past his thunib his half ^^Zr^'%r --"^^'^k^^^le -n'k passing b"twe?the h»'. ., ■ . ''^^ ^""' 'he fellow mean by winkinir when tfan "T# T' ■J"-,'«''=d himself with jusMable MTma Za^Ml^r" " ""''" "^^'S""^" slop, 'smelling af.X abot su rte on" Th7*' f'"" ^■''^' ''^» Ccesar'f: fe S had 1„T7.o'°gh. an'd «;'"£'; loll""' """ ''^ ''™''''" of rlarp^ frr.r^ [\ c "^ ^° "^^ '" runnmg a carco A God-forsaken sort of hole," added the sneaUpr « tu were some cottages thero in oIh ,.""^° P"^ speaker. There 'he ..und now.« '^^ ^^^ ^ ^'^^ «<* 'J Hi ' 310 a ikcut sauite i'\ii no one lived there afterwards. The place has got a baddish name — they say boggarts* walk there." ** I wouldn't go nigh a hole like that at night for a hundred pounds," said the bagman. The captain intercepted another wink, and decided in his own mind that the speaker was lying again. "The fellow's trying to gammon us," he reflected. "Why, I should like to know? Unless it comes natural to him, perhaps, being a cockney." It was now about half-past nine o'clock, and the usual practice of the tavern was to close about ten. The two bagmen seemed inclined to remain as long as they could, and the captain thought he might as well find out where they were going to spend the night. " It's queer weather," he remarked, d propos of nothing. "The wind has gone down, and it seems getting muggy again." " That's so," said the bagman. "You gentlemen won't have much moon, if so be that you're travelling," hazarded the captain sleepily. " Not we," said the bagman promptly. " We've got a lodging in the town. Going on to Sandwich to-morrow morning." " Ay, ay," nodded the captain with a yawn, A couple of minutes afterwards he lounged out of the parlour, leaving his hat ostentatiously on the table, and went into the stable-yard. He looked about and noticed a small cart, between the shafts of which a pony was being coaxed by the ostler. " Bill," said the captain, " did you happen to notice a couple of bagmen-looking fellows come in an hour ago — both of 'em in the parlour now?" The ostler touched his forelock to the landlady's brother-in- law, and nodded. "Ay, captain," he replied, "this is their cart. I've just been giving the pony a feed — they want him again as soon as bar closes." "They do, do tho;y? " said the captain. " Ay — said they'd got a goodish spell of a journey before 'em to-night." " Tust so." reolied the rantain meditativplv. He took the ostler's lantern, and looked into the cart. In the bottom was a large piece of tarpaulin, which covered a * Ghosts, 1 ?ot a baddish for a hundred !ecided in his :ted. " Why, tural to him, nd the usual n. The two ey could, and t where they s of nothing. 2tting muggy be that you're We've got a ;h to-morrow I out of the Ae, and went ticed a small jeing coaxed to notice a hour ago — 's brother- in- rt. I've just in as soon an •urney before the cart. In h covered a I a ment Squire 3" sack. He put his hand on a bulging protuberance which distended the end of the sack, and felt several hard objects. These he drew out, and found to be a dark lantern and a set of tools, the latter comprising a file, hammers, cold chisel, and saw. He put these articles back, covered up the sack, and cogitated while the ostler went into the stables. "Cockneys, from Portsmouth," he soliloquised. "Got to make a long journey in a pony-cart to their lodging in the town. Wouldn't go near a poor harmless devil on a gibbet for a hundred pounds. A dark lantern for a moonlight ni^ht. A set of blacksmith's tools, and regular white hands like a parson's — I saw 'em." The captain looked again at the cart and its contents, and whistled softly. Then he suddenly s'apped his thigh as if the solution of the problem had dawned upon him. " That's it I " he ejaculated under his breath—" that's it ' Snatchers, by the Lord ! " This was the term used at the period to denote the indivi- duals whose avocation lay in supplying subjects for dissection to the medical men and students at the great hospitals in London and elsewhere, and who were popularly credited with an entire absence of inconvenient scruples as to the means they took to obtain their stock-in-trade. "I've a mind to stop that little game," went on the captain, soffo voce. "It's bad enough for a poor devil not to have decent burial, without being sliced up and pickled by a crew of d— -d sawbones. As fine a figger of a man as ever I clapped eyes on, too.' He went after the ostler, and addressed him in a low voice. " Bill," he said, " d'ye know the place where that gibbet has been stuck up ? " '' Course," replied Bill. " I was there seeing 'em at it." How far is it by the road ? " "Two mile ; and as bad a bit as you like." •* Is there any shorter cut for a man on his Ic^s ? » common."^ ' ^°" '''''' '''''^ *''" "''"''^''' ^^'^ ^^ ^'°'''"g ^^^ .lP^''''.f•*'''''•'"^V''"^'! P^'-^'culars, and was furnished with r^ltTS mT"°"' ^y 't' °^^^^''"- Promising the latter a half- pint to hold his tongue, he crossed the yard to the tavern and entered the passage leading from the parlour J the kitchen Here he encountered the chambermaid, a strapping west- country wench nearly six feet high. ^ ^ 1 Mf i "! 31a a ir^ent Squire " Whisht, Peggy ! " he whispered mysteriously. "What is it, captain?" asked the girl from close to the ceiling. " Just pass your ear this way, Peggy, or else wait till I can get a few steps upstairs. I want a word with you." The girl stooped somewhat after the manner of a giraffe feeding, and brought her ear alongside the captain's mouth. A whispered colloquy ensued, which ended in the chambermaid disappearing upstairs, while the captain waited in the passage. A minute or two afterwards the girl came down with a good- sized bundle, tied up in a dark shawl. The captain took the bundle, laid it for a moment under a table in the passage, and went back to the parlour. The two supposed bagmen were still sitting betore the fire, and evidently intended to stay until the tavern was closed for the night. The captain took ud his hat and remarked to his half-brothers that they'd have the tide against them if they did not look sharp. Matt was about to point out that the ebb would run for an hour yet, but the captain silenced him by a furtive kick under the table. The other three brothers finished their liquor, put on their sou'-westers, and after nodding a good night to the other guests, followed their kinsman obediently out of the parlour. The rest of the company remained a few minutes later, as if loth to leave the genial warmth of the two wood fires. But the landlady presently came in to announce the hour of closing, and the room gradually emptied. The two bagmen were the last to leave, and they took a parting nip in the bar before sallying out into the yard. Then they put on their greatcoats, wrapped their necks up in thick mufflers, and got into their cart with many maledictions on the necessity for leaving such comfortable quarters. The vehicle drove off down the dark street, and the tavern people went to bed. Twenty minutes later, the cart stopped at the cross-roads on the common. The night air had become mild a- l still, and the moonlight came in faint and fitful gleams th ough a thin mist which had floated in from the sea. The two men got down, took out their tools, and lit the lantern. Then they hitched the pony to a bush by the wayside, and began to stumble through ^the gorse and heather to^ the little rising ground, about a hundred and fifty yards off, on which stood the gibbet. When they had gone about half the distance one of them, ''■'} a ^l , f I' U IRcnt Squire 3*3 1 close to the wait till I can tr of a giraffe ptain's mouth, i chambermaid n the passage. 1 with a good- ptain took the e passage, and )eiore the fire, was closed for ^marked to his them if they t out that the silenced him ;hree brothers rs, and after bllowed their ites later, as if od fires. But the hour of 1 they took a yard. Then ks up in thick ilcdictions on uarters. The tavern people iross-roads on an>I still, and h rough a thin two men got Then they md began to little rising which stood one of them, K' looking up, noticed something which brought him to a sudden halt. "Matey," he said, clutching his companion's arm, and pointing towards the gibbet, "what's that?" The other stopped and looked in the direction indicated. In the foggy gloom something round and white, about five feet high, could be dimly seen under the pendent form of the executed man. " Blowed if I know," he replied, in a puzzled tone. " It's going now — look ! " At this moment the white object began to diminish gradually in size, and seemed to remain suspended in air a few feet from the ground. " That's queer," observed the first speaker. " Good Lord ! see there ! " he went on, in an alarmed tone, pointing to his left. A little way off across the common, but nearer than the gibbet, another white form could be seen slowly rising from the dark moor. This extended upwards till it seemed about seven feet high, and began to move forwards. " It's coming this way, hang me if it isn't," cried the second snatcher, his teeth beginning to chatter. " And that other's there again — look ! " The globular form by the gibbet re-appeared, and something like a pair of arms emerged from it, and waved slowly about. At the same moment a third shape became visible on the right, much nearer, and blocking the way of retreat to the pony-cart. " I'm d- — d if the place isn't alive with 'em," said the first man, m trembling tones, as he dropped the sack and the tools. "Boggarts, Jack!" whispered the other, grasping his companion to prevent his legs giving way under him— "boggarts, as I'm a living sinner!" While he was speaking, a fourth form came out of the darkness almost in their faces, and shot up to a height of about nine feet, while a low, smothered wail became audible. This was echoed by a blood-curdling squeal from the other spectres which began to advance upon the two horrified spectators! Ihe chains on the gibbet clanked, and the suspended body careered wildly to and fro in the still air. This was the last straw. Tht^ mmivc^^H c«ofoh.^~o „,.jj i.. recovered the use of their limbs and lungs, and fled with yells of terror across the common to the road, along which they tore at break-neck speed until they had left the cross-roads a m iu a IRcnt Squire couple of miles behind in the darkness. The pony, meanwhile stood peacefully in the shafts of the trap, nibbling at the turf by the wayside. The three tall spectres went back to the gibbet, where captam Kermode was engaged in rolling up a sheet. "How did you manage that trick, brother Kit?" asked Luke, as the brothers divested themselves of their white coverings. " I just pulled the shawl over me from the ground up to my neck,' explained the captain. "That walking-stick of yours came in uncommonly well, Luke. The way the sheet shot up was enough to scare our J^oja/ Mary's figgerhead " 1 he captain took the hook of his own stick out of the right boot of the swmging body, and prepared to depart. \\ hat became of the pony-trap ? " he asked. « Did they go off with It ? " r II a'h^ *u^^V '^P"^"^ ^^"''^- " It'-'' '■" the road there." All the better," said the captain. "Finding's keeping. MakfstoJe"^"" ' ^ '"P^'°'^' ^^'" P''^ ""' ^^V^^£^ to He looked up at the gibbet, and took off his hat. ' Good night, skipper," he observed seriously. "We've done you a friendly turn, although you don't know it. Here's better luck to you, wherever you are. Come along, lads." CHAPTER XL THE ABBE VISITS WRAY COTTAGE The abb^ Gaultier remained in the parlour of the tavern at Maidstone all day, drinking steadily. The landlord was anxious to show every respect to so estimable a customer, and came in from time to time to .ay him the compliment of keeping him company. The abb^ was at first somewhat slow to express any appreciation of this courtesy. But towards evening he seemed to become rather tired of his own society and took the opportunity of ordering a fresh bottle of brancly to mvite his host's company in attacking it. The landlord was nothing loth. At the abba's request he 'nu7. f .> i"f;-^'-^ ^^ V" 'he uiblc, ana went out to fetch a glass for himself During his absence Gaultier moved his arm-chair from the table to the fireplace, lit a fresh pipe with U Ikeiit Squire 31S a cinder, and took his seat again. Another arm-chair was drawn up to the farther end of the table. Something in the direction of this chair seemed to attract Gaultier's attention as he was pouring out a fresh glass, and the landlord, coming in, found him staring very intently at it. Then he shrugged his shoulders, emptied his glass, and motioned to the landlord to take a seat by the fire. The host brought forward one of the chairs standing against the wall, and placed a tall stool between himself and the abb^, on which to rest the bottle of brandy, a jug he had brought with him, and their glasses. He helped himself to a mixture of spirit and water, and held out his glass towards the abb^. "Sir, 1 have the honour to drink your very good health," he said ceremoniously. The abbd touched glasses, and looked past the landlord towards the end of the table. His right hand fell slowly to his knee, and he pointed with the other to the arm-chair. " Whom have you there ? '' he asked, in a low tone. The host turned round, and then back again. " Where, sir ? " he asked, looking rather surprised. The abba's fixed gaze relaxed. He rubbed his eyes, and turned to the fire again. " I beg your pardon," he said. " I thought someone was sitting there. It was some flickering from the fire, no doubt." The landlord remarked that it was curious what effects came from lights and shadows, and he poked the log on the hearth vigorously to make a blaze. The two companions drank and conversed for some little time. Presently the host noticed Gaultier staring at the arm-chair, much as he had done before. "That fellow's there again," said the abb^, pointing his pipe. "Wake him up, landlord." The host turned round, and sav; nothing. "Who do you mean, sir?" he asked. "There's no in the bar just now." Gaultier took his eyes off the arm-chair, and looked at the landlord with rather a puzzled air. " I could have sworn, for the moment, there was someone in that chair leaning over the table," he said. "It's very curious." " Very, sir," agreed the host, who with one began to feel a littU uncomfortable, sighted." "Not I," replied the abb^, knocking the ashes out Perhaps you happen to be a bit short- f liis ■I; . .* It,. lit ' 1 if 3^ 3»6 a Ikent Squfre " But I'm accustomed to I find this light rather pipe, and puttiri;> in a fresh charge, plenty of candl.;s at night, and indifferent." host,^r?sing^'''' '"°'^"' ''"^'^' '''' '^ y°" P^^^*^^ '^'" «^id the " By all means," said the abbd The landlord went out, and did not return immediately Gault.er looked once or twice at the table, hu, saw m thS' and rather wondi.red at his previous impression. H^ snokeT] mmutes. 1 hen, urged by some irresistible imtrulse, he turned round and looked again at the ,i>rm-chair '^fa^f-'"' iu ^\ "•'^"^'•ed. " I was right, after all." beated m the chair was a !orm-whether of a man or a woman he could not be quite s.,re- vith tha head bariJin Its arms outstretched across the ;.ble. Ii seemed prvelotd in a darK cloak. The abbd gazed fixedlv at th-s figure for a few seconds, und then remarked to him.'^eh; ^ i iiat landlord is evidently blind drunk" At ^iis >nomen. the host returned with another candle :^:^^^S^ on the table. Gaultier pointed to the^g^:; " H.':, ihere, you see. Why don't you turn him out ? » uns time the host was seriously disturbed . Hang ,t all, sir!" he complained, " vou're enough to give a man the creeps. There's no one in ti,e room but our selves ; I told you so before." The abbd got up, and walked slowly towards the figure As he approached the arm-chair, he became gradually aware that It was empty, and that there was nothing on the X HrIli'-'^^"'Tr*° ^'''.'^'■' y^"'"^^ had a Httle nap and been tTl'. ^^y°"'' ''''^' ""^ ^^°"^d like a bed here to-night we can find you one with pleasure." ^ ' The abbe reseated himself, and looked at the empty chair with a dissatisfied expression. ^ ^ ^^ Here's 'fguinea"'"'" '^ "''• "^"^ ^^'"S -other bottle. nn?'^ ^?f ^ ''^"\ °"^ ^""^ ^''"'^^^d ^o his wife that if it were th.^.T"'' °^ ^"l'""i'' '^"'^ J"^' ^' ^o*^" the gentleman [n . ,!,^ -itu^c. i)UL the guinea m hand and rh^ prospect of another or two in future, wefe not to be disregarded lightly. So having arranged for a bedroom 'or the gulst, he a "Rent Squire 317 presently returned with a fresh bottle, and resumed his seat The pair continued drinking for another hour or more during which nothing particular occurred. Finally, the land- lord got up, and apologised for withdrawing on the score of following the maxim, " Early to bed and early to rise." »Tn?^J°".^°"^^. ^'^^ ^° ^^^ yo"'" '■oo"!' sir," he went on, 1 11 show It you." The abbe had been cogitating while the landlord was speaking, and now responded, " I shall not go to bed, landlord. This room is comfortable enough. Suppose you and I sit up all night ? " The landlord found nothing inviting in this proposal. You do me proud, sir," he replied. "But you must excuse me. I like my night's rest uncommonly, and it's getting late already." Gaultier put his hand in his pocket and pulled out another guinea, "Will that do instead of your feather-bed?" he asked, holding out the money. ' The host looked at the coin, and hesitated. He liked his ease but a guinea was a guinea. Moreover, if his guest was, as he strong y suspected, either a lunatic or in an early stage of delirium tremens, the programme of going to bed might mvolve some annoying disturbance during the nitiht He sighed, and pocketed the guinea. ^ j,o"^'!l ^''^'f ^"°*^f ^°^' ^"^ ^e" 'em to shut up the bar" he said as he turned and left the room. The abbd addressed em^pty chlir '° '" ^°"''' '"^ '^P^ " '^^^"^ ^y^ -'^ '^e Presently the host came back with some firewood, which got ^up alain. ''' ''"''' ""^ "^""^^ ^'^ ^^^*' -^ then I'll" fl ^?v '^^''^' '['' • ^^ '^•^' g°'"g to the table, « I think 1 11 toke this arm-chair. If your friend comes back ''he added facetiously "let me know, and I'll apologise to hi^ " He brought the chair to the fireside, seated hirnsef with Sock^f T^^/'"^'^' '"^ '^^"^^ h'^ h^"d« i"to hi b aches' pocKet. Gault.er went on drinking and smokine till the K:f :S'"lho1 -?/tertorouf snores "nno^nced tha fn vT!iH f ?• °'''y afterwards the abbd himself began to yield to drowsiness, and before lone he had f.ll.n f.^" dn uneasy siumber which lasted till dawn" mio tne aDMs mind. He determmed to make his way to 3i8 a IRent Squire Is ' I III I :;. JS(;t M 11 iii 1 ■ 1 1 : » n 1 ' 1 I Wray Cottage, with the object of finding out how far and in what way Muriel had been affected by the fate of her fiance. He had not been near enough to the group round the bier on the preceding day to see much, or hear anything, of what had passed. Being, moreover, entirely without a clue to Muriel's bearing and proceedings, her apparent quiet acceptance of the catastrophe had misled him. For all he knew, her arrival upon the scene might have been due less to any surviving fliith in her lover's innocence than to some exaggerated or morbid sense of duty— possibly even to a desire to learn that he had not left the world with an un- confessed and unrepented crime on his conscience. Under any circumstances, it was not likely that the heroine of such an unpleasant episode would be overburdened with sympathy or companionship at this particular juncture, and the abbd's brandy-fed imagination readily pictured himself as receiving the welcome due to a friend found unexpectedly faithful in adversity. After a late breakfast, therefore, he paid his score, and went to the post-house to obtain a conveyance to Sandwich, from which place he proposed to walk to Wray. In the yard he encountered the parish clerk. This man looked at the abb^ curiously, and then took an opportunity of pointing him out to the driver of the chaise which the abbd had ordered. Probably the clerk's accompanying comments were not altogether flattering to the subject of them, as the driver looked somewhat askance at his fare when the latter took his seat beside him. The abbe gave the word to start, and they drove off". Nothing particular occurred on the road to Canterbury where the horses were changed. The abba's breakfast, it may- be mentioned, had consisted mainly of brandy, and he had furnished himself with a large bottle of the s-.ne fluid for consumption on the journey. This had been already emptied by the joint libations of himself and the post-boy, whose possible prejudice against his fare did not by any means extend to the latter's supply of refreshment, A fresh bottle was accordingly procured wherewith to beguile the few re- maining miles to Sandwich. It was getting dark as they left the cathedral city, not on account of the approach of evening, but from the change which had occurred in the weather. The air was perfectly •still and almost close, and the canopy of cloud hung "so thick and so low that there was all the effect of dusk coming on. B Ikcnt SqiUi-e 319 At a little distance from the road the fields and woods were quite lost to s,ght in the inky gloom which shrouded t'e spirits. He spoke seldom or not at all, drank continuously and quite forgot to offer the post-boy an occasion "ichss Is formerly. At Wingham he finUed the hot le,^^' b' 5e 'tl" post-boy get another. This he discovered, not long after tarting to be vx^ry poor stuff, and in a sudden outbreak o fury he threw the bottle into the nearest ditch, cursed tie :rsilence Vh^r"".? °'.«°°^ ''^^""^' -^ ^hen rdap ed into silence 1 he post-boy drove on very sulkily A mile or two outside Ash the abbe looked very earnestly pos;^o;t:;'pfy/^^ ''''''' -'^^'-' -^ ^^-" -VeTS ;; Who is that ? » he asked, under his breath. " rtj^ V^'""^-^ ^^^ P°''-^°y' ^°°^'"g round •^Thrre's' n?' ^''''^^u V^' '°"^ ^"^ '^^'^ ^' ^^e abbd. '« Th^f .11 °"*'' ]^^\ ^ ^^'" '^^" he said curtly. r.nV V ' '" ^^^ ^'^^'^ ^'O'-^k with his head covered- "vVhyTe ^TaVeThr l' '"''■''?'" ^"^^^^^^ '^TSfbe. off-hor'sfa flick''"' '''''''^ ^'^ P^^^'^^^' ^ ^e gave the ablfsKk^lid:!^--^ the dHvi:^i;^-tr^^[h;^.r^„r^^^ -- ,^^°-i - j; wXl be the'worTe'fo'r" ou/ ""'' ^^"^^ "^ roadwaf.''' ^°°' "° "°^^^^ «^ ^^'^ — k, but stared at the "Dr!^:'on'""' "°"'" ^" ^^'"^^^^^' -"h an air of relief, just then his arm was violently spiVpri Kv i.;. again. i' i; M ' I .i' ] 11 * \ 'i ■' - i 1 1 i I. r ; ' lL 320 a ITtent Squire The abbd did not stop to reply, but half leaped, half fell out of the chaise into the road, and reeled a few steps forward. The post-boy turned the chaise sharp round, fired a volley of expletives at his fare, and drovi off at a gallop back towards Canterbiir T.. five minutes he was out of sight, and Gaultier was lef; ut nhe roa iway alone. 'toe cr'- ■,. ,3 just sober enough to philosophise on the disappearance of his bugbear in the black cloak, as he walked along towards Sandwich. " This is a little new," he remrrked to himself. " Certainly, one used to see very curious things after a good spell at the bottle. But that fellow V-^ night in the chair, and now the same again — j1 .nis la a kin-' of thing that is infer- nally ridiculous. Evidently, I must make a good dinner at Sandwich. It all comes of drinking without eating— that is demonstrable." The abb^ arrived at Sandwich a little later, and ordered dinner at a t.ivern by the waterside. While waiting for his meal he watched the rising tide as it reached the fishing-boats and small craft lying near high-water mark. One of these was a small lugger, and he thought he recognised one of the Kermodes in a man who was lounging on the deck as the boat rocked on the ground swell from the Channel. He hastily withdrew his head from the window, and sat down by the fire. The capon which he had ord"- d was brough. in presently, and he commenced his meal witti a fresh acces- sion of gloom. By the lime it was finished, his mood had become decidedly pessir 'istic, and his confidenr in the possible utility of his journey had nearly evaporated. Finally he rose with a sort of self-defyi^^g swagger, paid his score, and started through the gatherin^i dusk on the road to Wray Cottage. Night had fallm before his rather unsteady footsteps brought him to ■> ,,.ass road n-nning thro'igh Wrayhurst Wood. The latter was one of the. many examples, still surviving at the period, of the timbered lands which hrri rem.dned uncleared since the period of th Uoman occupation of Britain. The moon had not yet risen, and . a almost impenetrable gloom shrouded the a. ■ ^ - "' the primeva' fores i. Th ; air was thickj damp, ar p' ctly still. Pi )found silence reigned through the dar«.iiess, aroken only by mutterinjis of distant M Iccnt Squire Ded, half fell out IV steps forward. J, fired a volley op back towards ;ht, and Gaultier osophise on the ak, as he walked elf. " Certainly, ood spell at the chair, and now ig that is infer- . good dinner at t eating — that is ter, and ordered ; waiting for his the fishing-boats One of these nised one of the the deck as the ; Channel. He V, and sat down 'Ti d was brough. th a fresh acces- d, his mood had nfidenrf- in the porated. Finally , paid his score, the road to Wray footsteps brought lurst Wood. The surviving at the m.iined uncleared of Britain. The ipenetrable gloom ii. The air was d silence reigned tterin^s of distant 3ai frnm'^^h; ^! ^"""l ' -tervals waves of faint lightning rose from the eastern horizon and gleamed pallidly between the inky columns of the vast oaks and pines f,i(!^n^'f"''r\''P^"'"^> l^^ "^'■'^°Py o^ cloud showed a huge fallen trunk lymg a few feet from the path. Gaulti r vs nt to It and sat down, restmg his chin on his hands, and iookmg vacantly at the dim pathway of turf he had just left ^ .S««^^/.«/" he muttered, "I wish I had been either too sober or too drunk to start on this fool's job. WhTis he that much;" '" "'-''''' "^'- ^ ^^'"^ '^'"^ ^^"•d ^'' His head sank, and tears of savage despair fell between plssed'l m'um 'r'nf'^PH '' ?T ^''^' Several mtutes and died T.T tk ""'""^ ^^^tled amongs^t the high branches, and died away. The silence deepened, and the -loom thickened into a darkness that might be felt "" .f!"K'^'''"lV!'t''^''^ '^^ "P' ^"^ "^^^"ed. A sound hke that of a branchlet broken under foot had reached his ear nl.ty n" "Jk'^"^ ^ ^^^^'^ '^y ^""^"^ the far-away lightning p ayed over the open space in front of him. By its momemlr? Th^^e t^noloS^nd'^S'^Mr ^^^ «'-'' a^dTarpear iT wa's r ma^orTtom?:. '°"'' "°' ^^^" '^ ^"^^ ^^'^^^^ oreltf mu^rh ?h' ^'■°''^'^K- "^}''^ g°^^ ^°"^^«"e who seems pretty much at home m this infernal wood. Two's comnanv Let us see who's abroad on such a ight as this '' ''''"'P^"^- He went out on to the path. The moon was just ri ing and It was possible to see some little distance along the track No on^ was m sight. Gaultier ran forward several vardr^tnnnli Danish'? ''T'^ ^"^"^'^^'y- "'^ PrevLuTd^f ^^^^^^^ tooT'is'' place' P-ternatural acu^n'ess of sight nd'heari g JhffimtiSl:"- ftrLnorff^^'- "e shuddered, and fo? 91 n Ik J^ '' ■ t • ■ ..: •! ■ i. ft 3aa B l^cnt Squtre While crossing the bottom of this hollow, Gaultier thought he heard a slight sound in the direction of the ridge behind him. He instantly stepped aside from the path, lay flat down amongst some bracken, and waited. In a couple of seconds the rift of moonlight over the ridge was blocked by a tall and shrouded figure, which disappeared in the intervening hollow a moment afterwards. *• What is ^his ? " thought the abb^, " Have I managed to pass that ni jit-bird by some accident? " He held his breath, and peered keenly through the brake- fronds while the newcomer approached his hiding! lace. The figure swept noiselessly past him. It was enveloped in some kind of cloak and cowl, and seemed to be that of a man. Uit he could see no face, and fancied that it was covered with something black. In a score of paces the form was lost in the shadows of the forest. The abb^ began to tremble. '• It is that fellow ^gain," he said to himself. He waited some little time before he could summon up sufficient resolution to resume his journey. When he did, it was with a certain feeling of relief that, at all events, the unknown was somewhere in front and not behind him. The curfew had tolled before he emerged from the forest and saw, by the passing gleams of moonlight, the gables and moulded chimneys of Wray Cottage rising over the willows which bordered the little river Wraybourne. No light appeared in its windows. But only the bedrooms faced Wrayhurst Wood, and the wainscoted parlour, where Muriel usually sat of an evening, could not be seen from the hillside under the forest. Gaultier decided that it was not late enough for the dame and her niece to have retired for the night, and therefore went forward. The high hedgerow prevented him from seeing anything of the front of the cottage till he had passed through the side lane and reached the wicket which gave entrance to the garden. The gate was wide open, and the Cottage in darkness. This rather surprised the abb^, who had heard that the dame's town-bred habit of locking the wicket every night was a stock joke amongbt the villagers. He entered cautiously, and observed that the door in the porch was wid,: open also. This surprised him still more, and he stepped into the shade of the soruces to reconnoitre. The parlour of the Cottage had two casement windows, one facing him, and the other — into which the moon shone at intervals— round the corner to the left. The abbd waited till :ier thought id^c behind ly flat down 2r the ridge disappeared managed to I the brake- place. The )ed in some of a man. ;overed with IS lost in the summon up ben he did, events, ihe d him. n tht! forest ; gables and the willows le bedrooms rlour, where en from the ; it was not tired for the anything of ugh the side 5 the garden, ess. ird that the ;ry night was i cautiously, le open also, to the shade ivindows, one on shone at b6 waited till a f{cnt Squire 323 the moon was obscured, and then made for the shadow of a holly-bush close to the nearest window. One thick branch of this holly touched the casement itself, and by creeping under the branch it was possible to bring his face close to the diamond-shaped panes without being seen from within. The casement opened inwards, both frame and sill havinu a deep drip-groove to prevent rain entering. This had been an arrangement of some former occupant, in order to permit of keeping a number of pot-flowers on the broad sill outside Muriel used it for this purpose, and the plants heli)ed to make a further screen for prying eyes. Gaultier dropped on his knees and crawled to the window. Then, half raising himself, he gazed intently within. At first he could distinguish nothing ; but when the next broken gleam of moonlight flickered for a moment hrough the further casement, he saw a figure seated by the table in the dame's great arm-chair, its head buried in Its outstretched arras. With a thrill of terror the abb.? saw repeated over again the apparition of the tavern at Maidstone Ihe moon was immediately afterwards hidden, but the ightning became more frequent and vivid, while the roll of thunder indicated that the centre of the storm was coming nearer, fhe figure remained motionless, and the abbd keot his eyes fixed upon it as if fascinated. ^ A l"r?l?'^ ^K 'Ti^l^"^ §\«P^d, and his hair stood on end. A bright flash of lightning had lit up the room, and for i moment made the smallest object visible. The form a the table vvas that of a man. whose rieck was bare, and wh^showed round his neck a livid purple band. Even through the darkness that followed the flash the abb^ continued to glare with dilated eyes upon the spo where the figure sat so silent and so still, 'in the intensty of his fixed gaze his vision seemed to gain power to penetrate the uUer gloom in which the little room was shrouded, and he saw a slight movement in the form at the table. Then the bowed head was slowly raised inH th#» ,r.«o The next inseant the sky wa= spUt from zenith to hori/nn hea"ve"rand t'/f.""'",?' '°"°^'^ ''^^ thunder<,'ash'°as'oT he neavens and the earth comins tofrpHi^r 'v^.. ,__. _ driven in by ti.e concussion"; and Gaultier paTJ^ed'wTS m- ¥ 1*^ 324 a IRent Squire . i 1 '■ 1 J ■ i * ! ' ■i; Before him was a face, sombre, menacing, and awful in its livid pallor, whose eyes, glittering with unearthly fire, seemed to burn into his very soul. It was the face of Ambrose Gwynett. The abb(5's lips slowly parted. He drew a deep breath, staggered, and fell back unconscious. There was a moment of profound darkness. Then a ray of moonlight played upon the empty chair, and a little puff of wind made the casement swing to again. The storm passed away, but large drops of rain began to fall. The body of the abb^ remained lying in a heap under the window. / ;) d awful in its y fire, seemed of Ambrose deep breath, Then a ray d a little puff i storm passed e body of the "The face !)f Asfihro^e Gwyiui!. -Page 3U. m t BOOK IV H Bib for jempire m l»; ( H f '■ a ir?eiit Squire 3*7 CHAPTER XLI A CELEBRATED SNUFF-BOX ^^/^,^'"';!"y '^*' '712, the French court, which had been at Marly for nearly a fortnight, returned to Versailles. The dauphin (the due de Bourgogne) and the dauphine were of the party together with their two little sons, the dues de Bretagne and dAnjou and the royal governesses, mesdames de Ventadour and de Villefort. The first few days of the month were raw and cold, but the morning of the 5th was so warm and the sun shone so brilliantly that almost the whole court streamed out upon the onT.^i ^° f T^ ^^l °P^" ^'- ^'■^"P^ °^ ^""^'•'^••s. ministers, and officials formed and broke up again with quite a bu-v appearance, and the ' sanctuary,' as the king's own private arde was called, attended the promenade in considerable Madame de Maintenon and the duchesse de Bourgogne }t Tu *i' ^'"^' '^^ ^"^ de Bretagne ran on in front and the baby due d'Anjou, who was a very backward, feeble,' and sickly child, was carried by his Breton nurse in the rear IT^ncZTeSltZL::''''^^^^ ^"' ''' cherished friend The dauphine, Marie-Adelaide of Savoy, was the sooiled child of the 'sanctuary.' Brought to France at eleven^ears won the oIh" t"^ ' ' " ^""'^'l^ '^ '^•^'^^"' '^' had comp e e ly won the old king's heart by her lovable disposition her tZ^dTtt:"""'' ^^"-'-^P^^^^'^^'^ spirits, and'herch^erfS disregard of the monstrous etiquette which he exacted from everyone else at court. The less fortunate or less aud-iciZ members of the royal circle looked on with wonder wht^^ duchesse de Bourgogne plumped herself down upon an an^ of the king's chair, or shouted "ma tante" after the uusLre marqu.se de Mamtenon. But the dauphine held her grand hear'"'? hTr'fonf "'"^/"' ?>^ terribly afraid lest he s'hould o? the-tc^hett t^-' ^— -' deplo?:reu1trm1 This Insf nprcr>rn"'~' " J-.._Ui.-- -e ,•> , - .. :, f :''''5-. a uaugiULT of the due U'Urieans qnH bv '':''^'^'^^^^^ de Blois, one of Louis ^Ws chHc^en by a..ua.u.e de Montespan, was at once the king's grand 328 a ftcnt Squfrc t f-: m the lower terrace, de St. Simon and "IS the lli daughter and (through her marriage with the due de Berri) granddaughter-in-law. On this particular morning the gossips of the court had had their appetites for scandal sufficiently whetted by the news that madame de Berri had become helplessly intoxicated at supper the night before, that the old princess Palatine had been scolding her granddaughter-in-law all morning, and that the king was understood to be furious about the affair. Probably the dauphine found the royal temper a little discouraging during the promenade, for she fell back and walked with madame de Valincour. " Comtesse," she said, pointing to not that M. de Noailles talking to M niardchal de Berwick ? " " Yes, madame," replied the comtesse. " So he is returned, then. I thought he was at his estates in Languedoc. Do you know we had a great quarrel before he went away ? " ** I rather fancy madame de Noailles told me he had had the misfortune to offend your highness in some way or other." " I should think so, truly. I asked him what was the kind of snuff he thought most suitable for a lady. Guess what the monster replied." '* I have not the slightest idea, madame." "He said he was not aware that such a thing existed. I told him it would be setting a bad example for me to continue the acquaintance of a person whose ignorance was so profound and so inexcusable. Then he went off to Nismes." " I believe he returned last night, madame." •' Tell him, in the course of the morning, that I will give him an opportunity of displaying any little elementary know- ledge he may have acquired during his absence, if he likes to come to supper." The dauphine kept looking at the due de Noailles and his friends. *' Those gentlemen seem very much interested about some- thing," she went on, making way for the king, as he returned from the end of the terrace. " Go and see what it is, comtesse, and give my message." The due de Noailles, a good-natured looking person with the face of a country squire, was chatting with four gentlemen. One of these was a stout, elderly man, with a profoundly seil-important expression, and the air— as was said of some- one else later — of his own statue erected by national sub- due de Berri) ng the gossips dal sufficiently had become ;, that the old laughter-ill-law to be furious :mper a Utile fell back and r terrace, "is imon and the at his estates quarrel before e he had had way or other." t was the kind iuess what the ig existed. I ne to continue IS so profound s." lat I will give nentary know- :e, if he likes )ailles and his d about some- s he returned t is, comtesse, [ person with tur gentlemen, a profoundly said of some- national sub- a Ikent Squire 389 script ion. This was Louis de Rouvroi, due de St. Simon and author of the famous "Memoirs"; the second, a tall' soldierly looking wearer of a marshal's uniform, was the duke of licr.vick, the natura son of James II. and Marlborough's •^ter, and consequently half-brother to the chevalier de St. .VhT^^' f °^^'' °^ ^^^ P^'"*>' ^^5 the due de Chevreuse, who posed as amateur medical adviser to anyone about the court who would hsten to him ; and the fourth was M. Bondin! chief physician to the dauphine. He had just joined thegroup: the doctor' ^'VJ T""" '^'i ^^ ^°''^'"^^' t"^"'"g towards the doctor. 'Good day, my dear M. Bondin." 1 he physician bowed. ^<^ KndtLlnit^tS^^^^^^ atThe-^tTfl^ts'p^."^''""^- '' ' ^^ - -"^^^"^^ y--S ;; Concerning what, M. le due ? " asked the doctor cautiously, /'w/./ my dear doctor," said the duke, "we are al discreet, I hope. I mean this threat of poisoning '' ^ tL 2 T rT *° ^^ ^" authority in the matter, M. le due " " J thint' °^^^^^>^k slapped the doctor on the shoulder I think we may speak freely, monsieur," said he lauch ntr Madame la dauphine is not half as punctilious as you arf' It is she who has given the affair publicity." ^ "If fhTt'Ts'th'"''^ '°'"'"^^'' "^"^'^"^^ ^y this assurance. It that IS the case, gentlemen," he said, "there is nn reason for not telling the little that I have to tdl As a matter of fact, it s confined to the circumstance th.t on he day his majesty did us the honour of coming to Mi k^" .nL^^Tu""'' '^'''^" ^'^'^ de Noaillel 'STIthe worst^ of being out of the world for a month-one hear^ '« fJT.^^f ^ ^^u"'^]^^*. ^S°'" P"t in Berwick, doctor "Th". ^^^^°^'^«t month, M. Ic due," replied the dauphine, There L absltdy n^l uftoX^wrlirr'^Tft ? ma t ?"anlTTd'o"'^^' ^^'"'°^'" ^^ '^ ^'p^''" of Si holTW"rtdved^"ette?frn1hrSn?n' h"'''" '^^^"^^'^^"^ was araiabiiitvaself'" "wh"^""''' tJ'"""'!',''," * Noailles, who I'' 'i I ■I- n 330 H •Rent Squire 11 h No one responded to this inquiry, because every one except the duke at once thought of the duchesse de Berri. This princess had always been desperately jealous of the precedence necessarily accorded to her husband's sistcr-in-Iavv, and had frequently made herself insufferably disagreeable to her. "That is quite true," put in St. Simon finally. "But as it was only yesterday that the matter got about, there has been time for further developments ? " As the duke looked inquiringly a' the doctor, the latter repl ed, " Nothing whatever has transpired, M, le due, so far as I am aware." It may be mentioned that the sources of the two warnings in question have always remained a mystery, and, moreover, that there does not appear to have been the slij^htest ground for either of them. But after the deaths of Henrietta Stuart and her daughter Marie-Louise d'Orleans, queen of Spain, people took possibilities of this sort rather seriously. The due de Noailles seemed rather put out. " Do you know, my dear M. Bondin," he said, " that your news comes very ma/ a propos ? " " In what way, M. le due ? " " Parbleu ! it is rather curious. You all know why madame la dauphine, with her usual charming vivacity, chose to visit me with her displeasure just before I started for Nismes." The group nodded an acquiescence. " Frankly," went on the duke, " I look forward with terror to a fashion of continuous sneezing setting in amongst the houris of our Paradise. Let us keep our illusions as long as we can." ** I do not dissent from you, my dear de Noailles," remarked the due de St. Simon, finding he was expected to say some- thing, and being, in truth, quite sufiicienlly scandalised himself at the dauphine's accomplishment. "Nevertheless," said de Noailles, "on the principle of holding a candle to — ahem ! — the angels, I ventured to bring buck with me from Nismes a little [)eace-offt:ring for madame de Bourgogne, intending to seek permission to present it this evening." " But what has this to do with me, M. le due ? " asked the doctor. " PatiencCi mv dear doctor," refilled de Noailles. struu^lin"' to get some parcel out of his coat-tail pocket, " the connection is confoundedly close, as you will perceive, Voild,!" ,-> ivery one except ie lierri. This " the precedence n-law, and had Ie to her. lly. "But as it there has been ictor, the latter ;, so far as I am le two warnings and, moreover, slij^htest ground ienrietta Stuart ueen of Spain, seriously. The aid, " that your w why madame ■, chose to visit Nismes." ard with terror n amongst the usions as long illes," remarked d to say some- idaliscd himself iciple of holding to bring Ixick 'or madame de present it this e due ? " asked illes stru'^flin"' ' the connection i. a tkcnt Squire 331 The speaker prod-iced a parcel, which, when divested of Its silk wrapper, proved to be a very beautifully chased gold casette or small box, which he handed to Berwick. "This is a charming affair," observed the marshal. "A bonbonniire, J suppose ? " The due o .roailles pressed a spring, and the lid flew open, revealing the inside filled with snuff. " The very finest Spanish I could procure," he said " I am not an expert myself, as I explained to madame la dauphine • but I believe all you gentlemen are connoisseurs— try for yourselves." The due de St. Simon appeared quite shocked when de NoaiUes tendered the box to him. • /'^y^'^.^'"" ^^'L°'^'" ^^ '^''^' "take* a pinch out of a box intended for madame la dauphine ? Impossible ! What are you thinking of?" " I am thinking of M. Bondin's little story, my dear friend Here is something from Spain, a country which sends warnin-s to M. Ie dauphm,and I do not wish to be accused of anything If anything goes wrong. I beg you all to observe that I take a pinch myself, and will abide by the consequences " The duke elaborately helped himself to some of the snuff and sneezed with tremendous energy. ' "As a matter of self-devotion to 'the safety of madame I am with you duke," said St. Simon, taking a pinch. "It is certainly of the very finest quality," he added, after the effects of the stimulant had duly presented themselves The other gentlemen helped themselves in turn, and expressed their high appreciation of the contents of the casette. At this moment madame de Valincour was seen to leave the dauphine """u l?,^""^^ ^^^ ^^y '" the direction of the group ^ . Who is this lady?" asked Berwick, who had only just arrived from camp, and had not seen anything of the Marly household for some time. ^ " Pardieul my dear mardchal," cried Chevreuse, " what monastery have you been living in, not to know the mos beautiful woman at court?" Berwick. """'^ ^^''^ ^"""^^ ''"'^ ^ ''^' ^^ ^^^ ^^°"''«'-'" '•«PJied "Certainly-I forgot that. It is madame de Valincour from Marly-a friend of M. de Noailles." ^^iincour, Noailli.'''^^ "^' ''""''" ^"" ^'■°"' childhood," explained de The comtesse came up, and was received by the four 1 } "' '"' II i"' 1 1 i H- ■ f 1 4 1 ( 1 i \>l f i 33a a ment Squtrc gentlemen with salutations whose homage equalled anythinc that could ha\e been accorded to the dauphine or the marquise de Maintenon. The due de Noailles looked on rather finiut,cd. "Comtesse," he said, taking her hand in quite a paternal fashion, " permit me to present to you A. de Berwick, who lays his many laurels at your feet." The marshal bowed with the profoundest empressement, and the comtesse added a gracious smile to her curtsy, "I meet M. le mardchal with ail the more pleasure," she said, ' because I have, I believe, some Stuart blood in mv own veins also," ' Berwick bowed again at this intimation, whirh happened to be a pure invention on the part of the comtesse. " Madame does me infinite honour to claim me as a kinsman," he rejoined. "A house that has sent us queen Marie, the princess Henrietta, and madame de Valincour, lays Fran - under eternal obligations," remarked St. Simon, who did not wish to be out of the fashion. The comtesse curtsied again, and turned to de Noailles M. le due," she said, "I have to tell you that madame has noticed your arrival," .»,"n°"-n'^™ ""^ terribly," said the duke. "I understa. d the Bastille is quite full, and unfortunately the air of Vincennes aoe^s not agree with me." ■'■ Madame recognises that justice should be tempered with mercy; replied the comtesse. "She desires me to say that U join deplorable and culpable ignorance has been lessened durinjT your absence, you will be accorded an opportunity of proving the fact at supper to-night," Madame la dauphine overwhelms me by her clemency l>ut I am in too great a hurry to display my improved taste to wait till evening, so I have a favour to beg of you, comtesse " Let me hear first, M. le due. You are only on probation at present, and I must be cautious." "Do me the service, comtesse, to ask madame la dauphine to deign to accept this .sample of Seville snuff as beiim something highly attested by the gentlemen you see before you, and therefore a proof of my rapid advance as a connoisseur," "Madame la comtesse," remarked Rerwirk^ "m-iv rest assured that it we have not amongst us a single other' claim to distinction, we are, at least, good judges of snuff." r i-5i ''j* w* iualled anything lauphine or the allies looked on juite a paternal e Berwick, who npressementy and tsy. ; pleasure," she irt blood in my ch happened to laim me as a ;, the princess Frai J under lid not wish to le Noailles. u that madaiue "I understai J ir of Vincennes tempered with me to say that been lessened opportunity of her clemency. )roved taste to u, comtesse." y on probation le la dauphine nuff as being 'ou see before idvance as a kj "may rest le other claim ' snuff." I a Ikent Squire zzz ¥.J. Convey my most ..ise. Au revoir, adame receives this " You may depend upon me, M Ic . affect )nate luembrances to the ' gentlemen. \ua will understand that ever ng, as usual." The five gentlemen acknowledged the comtesse's sweeping curtsy with a half circle of bows, and stood watching her as she passed along the terrace. "A iorfectly superb woman!" commented Berwick. •Where has she bt( n hidden all this timer The due de Noailles was rather gratified at the sensation produced by his wife's protegee. "We sent her to Madrid when nia^'ame dec Ursins wrote vVhen ail the Fren<'h Valincour retired with Her own people live for a lady of honour," he ex[)lai contingent returned to Fran c, his wife to his estates in Lani. there." " What is the family ? " " They are rather new— Gaultier de Beauval." -hhiV'^^' exclaimed the marshal, "any relation of the " She is his sister," replied de Noailles, in a not very en- thusiastic tone. " Do you know him ? " " In a fashion. I recollect him as sacristan at St. Germain m very low water for some reason or other " ' " He was usually at loggerheads with his people." said de Noailles. "Very likely. He asked the king* for a clerkship at Ihe chateau— a matter of some three or four hundred livres a year. Du Vivier, the chapel-master, was annoyed at Gaultier going to the king behind his back, and reported rather blackly against him Ihe post was refused, and Gaultier went off wuh^ rallard to England. I saw him again about a yeai The rnarshal discreetly refrained from explaining that Gaultier had been sent to him on the occasion in question by Harley, with the proposition that the Pretender should ^Sn!r.K '" "^"'^^ ^""''' so^c'-eignty till her death, and shou d then come over to succeed her. This move of the lord-treasurer's had the expected effect of securing fo. him S^ThorHn' ^^^°iT'r^"''°"' ''^" ^°''^ ^°t^ °f the JacobitTs in both Houses of Parliament. "' He is not exactly a man one can know," said de Noailles ; • James 11. MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 ■^ IIIIIM ■ 80 1.4 12.5 12.2 2.0 1.8 A APPLIED INA^GE Inc 1653 East Main Street Rochester. Nevi York 14609 (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax USA I . i* ! ;** It : 'i f 334 B Ikent Squire but he IS fond of his sister, and she is devotedly attached to him. He was finally disinherited by his father for opposing hermarriage— at her request, of course." " Where is the comte ? " " Nobody knows, or cares— probably at Valincour. A con- firmed rnvalid, I fancy, and a perfect savage at that." Meanwhile, madame de Valincour had returned to the grand terrace. The royal party were just going within doors, and the comtesse followed them at a little distance. The suite of rooms at Versailles which were assigned to the dauphm and dauphine included a large boudoir and a little cabmet leading out of it. The dauphine was sitting in the boudoir, after returning from the terrace, and talking to the due de Bourgogne, when the comtesse de Valincour entered and came forward to execute the commission entrusted to her by the due de Noailles. The dauphine uttered a cry of delight when the casette was unwrapped and placed in her hands. " It is charming i " she cried. " Decidedly, the duke is a person worth quarrelling with. I see I must cultivate the habit. Look, monseigneur ! " The dauphine pressed the spring, and made the lid fly open. She smelt the snuff, and remarked to the dauphin, as she took up a pinch between her thumb and finger, "If the king is going to catechise you this 'morning, monseigneur, you had better look out of the window." The dauphin shrugged his shoulders amiably. His wife was a privileged person, and had long ago established her right to be exempt from criticism. She took the pinch, and sneezed very heartily. "That is excellent," said the dauphine. "Where did M. de Noailles get it, comtesse ? " "From Seville, madame." " I thought it was Spanish. Try, monseigneur," and the dauphine tendered the box to her husband. The dauphin was not much of a snuff-taker, and declined the box. "Excuse me, madame. I like a pinch for a headache, or when I feel even more stupid than usual, but " "Nonsense!" said the dauphine. "Just to oblige me monseigneur," and she held out the box with a bewitchine smile. The dauphin did not trouble to contest the point, but took a pmch dutifully and returned the box. ft ! ■ IVhere did M. 3int, but took a Tkent Squire 335 The dauphine closed the lid of the casette, and examined the chasing with renewed admiration, "It is perfecdy lovely," she said, turning it over several tunes. "Some of you good people will be stealing it from me if I do not take care. I am going to put it in my cabinet." The dauphme rose, went into her little private room and returned. ' ''Now, comtesse," she said, "we are ready to drive. Go and ask that good M. de Noailles to come with us It is a heavenly morning, and I feel as if I were going to live for ever. Come, monseigneur ! " The party dispersed to rendezvous in the great courtyard and the swarm of courtiers hastened to follow the roval example. ^ In the evening the dauphine felt a little indisposed. She was attacked with trembling fits and a certain amount of fever and went to bed early. Madame de Maintenon came to see her, and took a seat beside the couch. The dauphine was nol Xfi >"" 2-K^^^ P^"^'^"* °^ ^^^ morning, and extolled the duke s snuff-box and its contents in enthusiastic terms. 1 believe even his majesty would reconcile himself to my taking such snuff as that," she said, laughing. The olc marquise looked quite distressed "My Jear" she exclaimed, "I beg you will believe nothing of the sort. Nothing would anno/ the king more as I have always told you. And after madame de Berri^ conduct last night " The marquise had no words left to express her opinion of this appalling scandal. ^ "P^non oi for 'youlselT " '^"'''" ^^'"'"'^^ '^' d^n^h\n<,, " you shall try alarmXnh ""' ^""' ' " '''^ '^' ^^^°^°"^ "^^^^"'^^' '" -" d-iuuh'ine' Z'd^'r'"' ^^^h^" "°t tell tales," went on the sherlZ^ . disregarding the protests of her companion, she called to one of her women in the ante-chamber ' Madame de Levi," she said, - take my key, and fetch me my gold snuff-box from my cabinet " chllltZJ:, '"''"" '^^ ^^° °^ ^^-^'" -P»-d the ^^ ''I mean my new one. I put it on the tnhlf^-n^a^^n,. ^e vaiincour will show you which it is " n^^oa.... ae .ui^^^^l "^^ ^^\' ^^ithdrew. "After several minutes had elapsed, she came back, looking rather puzzled li :t |.''. sS 336 a iRent Squire "There is no snuff-box on the table, madame," she said; "in fact, we cannot find any new snuff-box in madame's cabinet at all." CHAPTER XLII A TREATY OF ALLIANCE The disappearance of the dauphine's snuff-box aroused a good deal of interest at the court, although everyone understood that the circumstance was not to reach the ears of the king. St. Simon, in his " Memoirs," lays special stress upon the fact that the little cabinet, where the casette had been placed by the dauphine, was closed to everyone except herself. As the various rooms in the palace were practically all under the surveillance of the numberless officers, and as no person's absence from duty had been observed, the mystery remained without a solution. But the court had speedily occasion to forget the dauphine's snuff-box in the excitement caused by the alarming develop- ment of her indisposition. On the nights of the Saturday and Sunday following the first attack, the fever returned with great violence, although during the daytime on Saturday the patient had felt better. On Sunday night intense pains in the head were felt, and the dauphine suffered so greatly that she begged the king would not come in to see her, as he wished. The doctors tried in vain to relieve the pain by tobacco, both chewed and smoked, quantities of opium, and two bleedings. Eventually the pain diminished, but an acccs' fever followed, and the patient fell into a sort of lethargy the Tuesday. About ten o clock that morning the comtesse de Valincour, who had been sitting up all night, went with her friend madame de Ventadour to get a little air upon the terrace. As they passed through the corridor looking out upon the courtyard, an equipage drove up which attracted madame de Ventadour's attention. "Wait a moment, my dear Yvonne/' she said. "Surely that carriuge if from L'^toile, and the duke inside? That "I do not happen to know their establishment at all," replied the comtesse. le," she said; in madame's roused a good le understood s of the king. upon the fact ien placed by rself. As the all under the s no person's tery remained he dauphine's ming develop- the Saturday returned with Saturday the ie pains in the eatly that she as he wished, 1 by tobacco, urn, and two t an acccs >f lethargy de Valincour, th her friend n the terrace. out upon the i madame de aid. " Surely inside ? That iment at all," L'l^toile a Ikent Squire war a little villa in the nark 337 nor, ^^ u , , - "^ o^ Versailles, which naa been given by the king to his illegitimate daughter Frangojse-Mane de Blois, wife of the due d'Orleans. The duchesse d Orleans used to receive extremely distinguished company there and gave very rec/ien/ie dinners. All this fnrl- . t^'u^""^-, ^^ distraction, and it was rather unusual for mm to be beguiled thither from the Palais-Royal in Paris There was also a room kept for him at Marly, but he was scarcely ever seen at Versailles. In fact, the duke's position at this period was more or less .hat of an exile from the French court. His military successes Phninni' V .^^'^7^'"df i" Spain, had rather frightened Philippe y, who strongly suspected his cousin of purposing to snatch his crown from him. As Louis XIV shared in tSf suspicion (which was probably quite unfounded), the duke had been somewhat summarily recalled to France. He now lived mostly in Paris, accompanied by his forro.r tutor the abb^ Dubois, and devoted his energies about equally to the pursuit of the fine arts, studying chemistry, and scar^daMsng the court by the habits of his private life. These latte? .'^1.^^^'' "'^^"'' '" ^^^ "^°"^^^ °^ his inveterate enemies ind fpX^.'"''' '''' '' "" ^ '^""'^^'' ^" ^^^-^' In fhese respects he undoubtedly laid him:=ci£- open to the attacks of the marquise and to the severe disapproval o? his krhadTrW thi'h'.h'r'f ^°^ '^""'^ '^'y often',\r;eas the kmg had on y the habit of over-eatmg himself, and had latterlv been compelled to forego ever that indulgence In rehS matters the duke believed very little, and said so vS naturally placed him at a disadvantage with the Ver ailks aTt'he behes^t''r'r'"r' ^"' ^^'^'^' *° massTe" ^^ 1 5 u^'* °f."'^d^"'^ de Maintenon. Finally the duke indulged himself in an endless succession of mistresses eot nd of them m turn with extreme rapidity, and concerned himself very little about his illegitimate children Thf. of snarea tne fate of most mediaeval savants, and were looked 22 I; / i 1 i ■ 338 a ment Squire upon as two necromancers openly in league with the devil. For the rest, the duke was a handsome man of thirty-eight years of age, courageous as a lion, good-natured to a proverb, and probably the only royal Frenchman in two centuries who occupied any part of his leisure with intellectual resources. When the carriage from L'^toile stopped in the courtyard a companion of the duke's got out first, and stood at the door.' ''There is the abbe Dubois, of course," comm.ented madame de Ventadour. " Do you know him ? " ^'1 We met at Madrid," replied the comtesse. "Probably they have come to inquire after madame la dauphme." " If that is the case," suggested the comtesse, " we may as^well meet them. One of us will probably be asked ^ " By all means," replied the gouvernante, as they descended 'i!^ ^lul\ "?"'' ^° y°" ''"°^' ^ ^^^^ ^^ impression that the abb6 has the evil eye— the>//fl/^r^, as they say at Naples It makes me feel quite uncomfortable." "Perhaps that is the eye he is said to keep open all night " said the comtesse, laughing. " Here they come." ' The duke and the abbd made their appearance at this moment preceded in rather a perfunctory manner by a groom of the chambers. All the other officials kept carefully Sut of sight, as a little tribute to the visitors' unpopularity at the palace. This was nothing new in the duke's experience, and he took notice of it in his own fashion. " Fardieu ./the place seems rather empty, abb^," he remarked, ma cheerfully oud tone, as they came along the great hall. 1 am afraid the poor devils here find themselves obliged o retrench, and make shift with a reduced establishment. We must see if we cannot keep them on their legs, my dear fnend--this is really deplorable. Ah ! here is madame de Ventadour. Good day, duchesse ! We have come to inquire after your patient." ^ The two ladies curtsied, and the abbd kept a little in the rear. ^ "Madame la duchesse de Bourgogne is very ill, M. le due " replied the gouvernante. ' duke^^^' '^ "^^^"^ ^^^ '"^"^'"' ^"^^^sse?" inquired the "It is not yet certain, M. le due. But M. Bondin M Cheverny M. Mardschal, and M. Fagon are in consultation at the present moment at madame's bedside." i I 'ith the devil. of thirty-eight d to a proverb, centuries who resources, the courtyard, •d at the door, ented madame 2r madame la sse, " we may bly be asked hey descended npression that say at Naples. pen all night," irance at this ler by a groom refully out of ularity at the :perience, and " he remarked, the great hall, lelves obliged establishment, legs, my dear 3 madame de me to inquire 1 little in the 11, M. le due," inquired the M. Bondin, 1 consultation B ment Squire ^^g fi.cT^^ ^^u""^ last-n^med gentlemen were respectively the kine's first apohecary, first surgeon, and first physician. ^ fn. .r ''• °''' ";';'^dame de Valincour and myself are off dutv for a lew mmutes," added the duchesse. ^ comtesse^"""' ^°''''^' ""^ '°°^'^ '""^her intently at the «' aI^'ST K?^.^^^. household, then ? " he asked politely ^^ At Marly, M. le due." replied the comtesse. ^' It appears to me 1 have had the honour of meeting madame before," said the duke meenng de^a'lincour''"'' ^°'^''''^' ^"'^ ^" ^^'^^^^^^^ ^^^ °" "^^dame " M le due is probably thinking of the time when madame la comtesse was of the household at Madrid," he put in ' 1.^ that It?" asked the duke "Thpn t ^^ . ^ . nudame de Bourgogne on \er Icquisitl^ as hea^ af I condole with her majesty the ^ueen of Spain " ^ ^WeZT'V^'f'"^' f "^ '^^ ^^^^ looked serious. Profed^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ his^l'p^lr'"''' "'"'^^'°"^' ^"^ ^^^ ^"^^ -«t on with he::fg'orthe^all^<^^^^^^^^^ out of ii^VaSr-f ^^ ^^---^ ^^^^^^^e^ there MTd«e'"%h" '^-f ^^^'^g'-o^^d when we first arrived the fi'eld" "' '^ ^'°" '''°"""'' yo" ^vent directly to !! How long has she been at court here ? " Only smce the winter." " Did you know her at Madrid ? " "A little." " Intimately ? " " ?[!u!!^H ^o quarrel a good deal." .^.^ Abb^, this is the first time I have found you acting like an " U' vo,f "lif.; °^ T'f ' ^"^^'^^^ ^o his opinion." concLrn,ts^? thi^,Vu°^^^^^^^^ -^J-nt a Httle re- to fry in this affair." ™^ ^'^ of your own du^'lor ttVes't Tm'if "''^ ^1^°"^ ^^^ reconciliation, M. le " WhaUs that mv .T5 '^'Tu y.°" °^ *h^ ^^"'h beat tude.' vvnat is tnat, my esteemed theologian ? " i a'. ''»■! \P ;■ i : '! i ' ■ f if' i I.: 340 a Ikent Squire " Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall not he. disappointed." "That is my affair, if you do not botch it beforehand." " I am off to execute your commission, M. le due." In the meantime, the two ladies had gone out upon the terrace. "Why did you not notice the abb^, my dear Yvonne?" asked the gouvernante. " We have not been quite on terms since I was at Madrid," replied the comtesse. " But in case he happens to come back withiri the next few minutes, my dear duchesse, try and have occasion to leave us together." At this moment the abbe made his appearance, coming straight towards the pair. The duchesse laughed. " Evidently you are a witch, dear Yvonne," she said. " I will go at once." The abb^ came up with a sweep of his hat. " Madame is not curtailing her promenade, I hope ? " he asked politely of the duchesse. "I am sorry, M. I'abbe, that we cannot both play truant any longer. But madame de Valincour must take a little further respite. She has been a good deal confined this last day or two." The gouvernante went off, and the abb^ took her place beside the comtesse. " Madame will permit me to report," said he, " that I had the pleasure of seeing her brother after that unfortunate acci- dent to the carriage. He conveyed to me a sort of message, which madame had been so gracious as to send." " Was the message intelligible, or worth understanding at all, M. I'abb^ ? " asked the comtesse placidly. "Perfectly, madame; and I accept it as equally flattering and important. If I have not acted upon it before, it has been simply for want of opportunity. M. le due and myself are awkwardly placed, as you probably know." " Yes— at present." " At present, as you observe, madame," " Then I may take it, abbe, you do not at the moment discern any advantage in being an enemy to me?" The abb^ looked inexpressibly shocked. " Heavens ! my dear comtesse, what an atrocity you are suggesting ! Be so obliging as to recollect that if we had any little differences at Madrid, it was always you who did me the honour of attacking me." a "Rent Squire :hey shall not be forehand." I due." ? out upon the dear Yvonne?" was at Madrid," IS to come back se, try and have arance, coming ;hed. " she said. " I I hope?" he 3th play truant it take a little )nfined this last ler place beside le, " that I had nfortunate acci- ort of message, rstanding at all, [ually flattering 3re, it has been and myself are t the moment me?" rocity you are : if we had any ho did me the ■ i- f \ 341 fU "J°f '^'y yo" ^\^ '■'■ght so far, abb^. You must remember the duke frightened the poor little king terribly, and you came ;ou CiMh^'f '''^' t ''■ Naturally, oni had'to aC^ you. jjut all that is an old story now" ^'n ?/" *^^ contrary, madame. Anyone who imagines M d Orleans to be better liked at Versailles than he wS at the Escur,al must be blind and deaf. A leper, or a mad dog or duke—'' ^^^^ ^' ^"''' P°P"'^^ here' compared with^he *' Or yourself, probably ? " .k " ^^*u^ ^ }^^1^ ^ "^y^^^^ ^^ about as much esteemed as those three bugbears rolled into one " ^^^^emea as '5'Rea]r'?hhi"°^K'^ "P ^' the facade of the palace, sav dia we h.i'K!?^ remarked, "I think, from what you evident h!? T ^'"^^ ^^^ ^^^^"^ ^°"^e bush. It is quite windows!'' ^^'"P^""^'^^ "^y^^lf by being in front of those will ^e 'as'sSmeHA T'^IT' ' • ""^^ °^ y^"'" ^^^^^^^ reputation ways." labourmg to convert me to better thrdlatVbeltir "ays^' '"^^^^^"^ ^'^ ''''' ^^ ^^ould convert « Mn?^^ P"' ""^ ^'' ™^'' sanctimonious expression. posse'^staralwTs— '' """' ^''' ^"^ ^ttle influence I may noLtnse^'" ifTr^f "^ '^^ '°'^'"^^"' "' ^"^ "^t here to talk h"Sror ll:^Z fn acrbS^h^^^ ?ot f telf ^'' vvhich, madame ? " What would you have, dear rnmte«s- p Our -uu sovereign himself has not been defi"cient in a^wl^'^^^^^ ^ wouM think. But the resuItsXvf S'd iscouTa^^/'' °"' You mvite me to talk politics, abb^." ''''^""'^^S'"^ tM i 4 34a H ment Squire '• Madame, I am convinced that you can talk politics better than anyone at court. Unfortunately, that is not saying much. One may lament that it has not occurred to anybody to make one of the late M. de Richelieu's old boots into a prime minister." "Let us imagine that you and I are a pair of M. de Richelieu's old boots, abbd, and talk politics accordingly." " By all means, comiesse." " We must come to the point at once, abb^, because I may be summoned at any moment. I will begin, and you can criticise as we go on." The abbd took his pinch of snuff, and waved his hand with a deprecatory air. " On the contrary, dear comtesse," said he. " First, then, it occurs to me to remark that our country seems to cut a very poor figure at the present moment." "True, madame. But not particularly new." " Then I proceed to observe that there is nothing to prevent it sharing the empire of the globe." " That is quite new, madame. I wish it were true." " Consider, abb^, for a moment. Which state ought to be the wealthiest in the world ? " " Spain, no doubt — if it is merely a question of the gold and silver in its empire." " Good. Which nation, without a single goM or silver mine in its territory, is the most powerful in the world ? " "Those cursed English, no doubt — at present." "They will continue to be so, abbe." " I do not contradict you, comtesse." " Now listen, abb^, for this is of the utmost importance." The abb^ put his snuff-box in his pocket, and the expression of his face changed to one of profound attention. The comtesse thought for a moment, and then went on, " Let us suppose, abb^, that we had in France a ruler who did not represent the hostility of Louis XIV. to the English — in other words, someone who could propose an alliance with Great Britain without being laughed at over there." " Such as the due de Bourgogne ? " " If you like. Then, as France has very clearly gained neither the Spanish colonies nor anything else whatever by putting a Bourbon at the Escurial, we owe the Escurial nothing. Is that granted ? " " Cerfes, comtesse," replied the abb^, almost with enthusiasm, " more especially as you and I and the duke have all three d his hand with thing to prevent of the gold and a Ikent Squire 343 EscurLr *^ °"^ °^ ^^'''" *° ^'^""'^ someone or other at the "Very good then, abh^. Given a ruler of France who would be friendly w.th England, and a prime ministe?— '^ rhe comtesse stopped, and looked at the ducks in the pond A prime minister ?" repeated the abb^. ^ A prime minister who would use all his ineenuitv to embroil France with Spain and Portueal— -" ingenuity to " Portugal ? " ^ " Portugal, sooner or later." " What then, dear comtesse ? " .he_Eng,ish as our allies .,ain^ s'ZZ/^^,^",'^ """'"« What would you offer them ? " "The whole of North America-to include the West Indies wh^^rsreS^^" ''-' ''-y ^^'p^^ - - -- is ^^The abbd drew in his breath, and stared straight in front oi/iy°c '^^■' &^'^" P^'oceeded the comtesse, "it is clear that all the Spanish and Portuguese possessions ii the New World are at the mercy of the English fleets, and the trooos Thai r.n mlt'"rXvfh.V'^"''^^''^^^^ matters have been so managed that we have no fleets at ^ 1 Therefore, I suggest that we should hire the English fleets at the price mentioned." A-ngn^n neets— "Pnnl,? 'TJ'^' ^Pu'" ^"^ P°'"^"g^l themselves?" sea ? ? nmT.il ^'^ /^t^-''''^^"' th^'^ possessions across the The nhh/ ^"^- ""^fT °^ i"^PO^tance, not toys." programme """" "'""'' ''^^^'"^ '''' ^°"^^-^'« ^'"le final^""^ ^^° '' y^^' P"^e "Minister, madame?" he asked „ " ^^^' . ,-^° yo" happen by chance to im^crJp^ fU.. u« „.:,, T^" S*.^? ^'? P'""^ "^^"i^ter when he become^s kinaV" " The abc^ looked genuinely bewildered. ^ ^ XVothmg IS more impossible," he replied. it > I f I 1 344 a fkcnt Squfre 'That is exactly my impression," said the comtesse. " Then, madame, I confess I am somewhat at a loss to see the precise utility of our amazingly interesting conversation " "That is not the point, abbd The question is, does' my programme appeal to you, and are you willing to join hands in carrying it out ? " " Perfectly willing, my dear comtesse— when it is possible " " And without any ridiculous jealousy of the share that I may have in making it possible? " " Madame, I am not the one to grumble, if some soups require two cooks. But, naturally, one is curious about the recipe." '' For that you must wait, abb^. In the meantime, it is understood that we are allies?" "I shall be a devoted one, madame. J propos I am asharned to say that, till this moment, I had quite forgotten the object I had in seeking you just now." " You need nut trouble about chat— the duke sent you ? " The abbd bowed discreetly. " That was so, madame, I confess." " He saw me, and was, of course, struck with me ? " asked the comtesse quite unaffectedly. " Of course, madame." "You may tell him, abbd, that you duly executed your commission, and that the answer you received was " " Yes ? " asked the abbd, with some eagerness. "That I have unfortunately got politics on the brain " 1^' On the brain," repeated the abbd. "And that, with the profoundest respect, I am not prepared to listen to a political nonentity." The abbe chuckled. " That will be a little new," he said. " I will give h-m your message with religious exactitude." While he was speaking, the duchesse de Ventadour appeared upon the terrace and came up hurriedly " My dear Yvonne," she said, " thtre is very bad news Ihe doctors announce their opinion that madame is suffering from measles, and half the court are ordering their carriages "" During the winter of 1711-12 this disease had been virulently epidemic in Paris and other parts of France and Its spread was looked upon with the greatest apprehension by all classes of society. But hitherto it had not made its appearance at Versailles, and the result of the physicians' consultation was, therefore, sufficiently alarming. a ftefit Squire imtesse. : at a loss to see conversation." ion is, does my I to join hands 345 it is possible." he share that I if some soups rious about the meantime, it is propos, I am quite forgotten sent you ? " \ me ? " asked executed your was " ! brain " » not prepared will give h'm iour appeared ry bad news, le is suffering ir carriages." e had been ■ France, and apprehension i t^j'V TXlrt VtV Its e physicians' " Has M. d'Orl^ans been told ? " asked the abb^, looking rather uncomfortable. " He was one of the first to hear," replied the gouvernante. " What did he say ? " asked the comtesse. " He saw a crowd of the courtiers hurrying away from madame's salon, and he called out in a loud tone that if niadame was not too much indisposed to receive him, he wished to pay his respects to her. Then M. de Bourgogne came and shook hands with him very earnestly." The comtesse looked at the abb^, and the latter, saluting, went off murmuring to himself, " That was rather clever of the duke." CHAPTER XLHI A POLITICAL CRISIS During the remainder of Tuesday the dauphine's fever contmued very high, and she was partly delirious. On the following day, however, the doctors announced that their anticipations of the symptoms turning out to be those of measles were not realised, and that the exact nature of the attack was still obscure. But the satisfaction caused by this reassuring bulletin was of short duration, and on the Thursday the news got about that the dauphin himself was attacked by the fever, and that the doctors insisted upon his keeping his room. He appears at this stage of matters, to have been designedly misled as to the real gravity of the dauphine's condition, which was now critical in the highest degree—so much so, indeed, that her Jesuit confessor, p^re de la Rue, recommended confession. Ihe dauphme acquiesced in silence, and the reverend father recognising in this a hint that she would prefer the offices of some other confessor, at once offered to give way. The dauphme then requested that M. Bailly, priest of the Versailles parish mission, should be sent for. On inquiry, it appeared that M. Bailly had gone to Paris The dauphine^then asked for p^re Noel, who was instanMv suiijiiiunea. ihese circumstances aroused a great deal of excitement in the palace, which was not diminished by the news that the confession had been of prolonged duration r''! 346 If I •i i !!»;!(^ IP ' a ment Squire anda„';^eticaLTn".ered; NeverfteFess"ft:f: ""'' ^«'""' at night with increased sev^ViJ ,1^^ Vi ' ^ '''™'' '"urned night^ere of the SafaS^g' eht actf"'"™'' ''"™8 *» to tt hrz,t^'"of'itui?nr.L°ro°h'"^'''' '^^- order to go back to Marly '°''""''' '° "^'^ -^"'"S^- ■" daS;Le"'"bSoot™:?Lund thr"? ""^ °"' "^ '"^ couple of grooms of the cM,^^ 1^°" ™P'>'' ^"'^ f" a to one of fheTIn a low vdce "' ''"^^"^ '"^ ^P°'"= just pa™era"a*?'heTat^■"^.'I^^J'?r^ "" ^""'^ogne has Af ♦^i- •'' ^ '"^ • A am going to monspiffnf^nr " At this moment M. de Torcv entpr^rl ,, """"f g"eur. It will be a terrihjp hlnur u- ^ yet?" ^ ^^^'^^ ^^ve you see him to-day ea:prrsa^°what^^^h?UtetS"'^'"^ '"■ "- ■•' ^^ -o happ'fns To^ratTonmSC 'TT^ '''' '='"'"«"- after his majesty to Sy " ' ""^ ' ■""»' =^nd a courier oth^r'people, and thelou^rt^UMlTed" witlT'^h'"^ ,"^"^ '° mounted messengers denarfinT,, „ '* "'^ "^'^"^ of marquis came bfck and wi„f f " /"'^P' Presently the Her? he met M Bondin com „ ° ™f Th ''f P"'"'^ ™"'- and went back a pace or Z7iL°te rISm'"'" ^'"PP""' Bourg^gne. '' '"™^'=''8"^"." he said to the due de hoIrSTolce"' ''■ *= '""'^y" ^l'^" «' 'he dauphin, in a jj-'l'.."^'' d cooling for fevers, without doubt " lemonade— it is There were no attendants present, and madame de Valincour offered to fetch a glass of lemonade for the duke '^^^'"'°"'^ feebly ''-TZ S""^ ?/°u"' ^°'"tesse," he said, smiling leeoiy. I am ashamed to have to trouble you HavP vn., seen monse.gneur my brother, M. le marquis ?'' ' ^""^ M. de lorcy was not anxious to listen to the due rle R^rr.'o platitudes, so he made a move to the door. ^'" ' I have just left him, M. le due, and am on mv wav tn Marly. Adieu, monsieur-adieu, mesdames " ^ ^ ° Ihe marquis bowed to the group, and left the sainn hv one door as madame de ValincoSr disappeared by the other ' rhe next morn, ng at seven o'clock fhe due de B^rSSne leaving his children behind in the care of their .n„v "p^°^."!' mcsda„,es de Ventadour and de Villefortrwent" aw^y To It with everyone :d the dauphin's brother of the d de Ventadour. eldest son, the terly. The due ened. nervously. " I e this morning, ?st preparation. ich indisposed. igue and pulse. s. ou, M. le due," 1?" !. "That con- ot drink wine, doctor rather that the water or." ■ doetor, going e due de Berri monade — it is e de Valineour said, smiling J. Have you due de Bern's n my way to the salon by ' the other, i Bourgogne, -nt away to a Tkent SQuire 349 This eountry seat was gulf into whieh millions of money had been flung by U-j . ilV. When the king, looking out for a remote rustic h>. -nitage, discovered Marly, it was a wretched village on the slope of some hills which enclosed a deep, narrow valley, filled with swamps. At first the royal habitation was a mere cottage, intended to accommodate the king and his party of not more than a dozen courtiers from Wednesday to Saturday, twice or thrice a year. Gradually it was turned into a place which endeavoured to rival Fouquet's magnificent chateau at Vaux. From Compi^gne and farther, great trees were unceasingly brought, of which three quarters died the year they were transported. Plantations, basins, carp-ponds, terraces, and cascades were made and unmade a hundred times over, while forests had been changed into lakes, and lakes back again into forests, in half a dozen weeks. For many years an invitation to Marly had represented the seventh heaven to the average habitue of Versailles or St. Germain ; while the words, " Marly, sire ! " had been the very first to start from the tongue of any courtier to whom the king seemed inclined to be exceptionally gracious. But since the chateau had been relegated to the use, first of the faineant Monseigneur, and then of his son the due de Bourgogne, much of its sacrosanct character had vanished, and a sojourn there was no longer regarded as a thing for which to sell one's soul. Arrived at Marly the dauphin found his indisposition de- cidedly aggravated, and for the first time the serious elements m the situation began to be realised by the court and the public. Hitherto the due de Bourgogne had enjoyed a robust- ness of health which he seemed to inherit rather from his grandfather than from his father, and the problem of a possible failure m the direct succession had scarcely presented itself for consideration. But now it was seen that the dynasty was liable to be faced by perils of the first magnitude. After the old king and the dauphin, the succession went directly to a lad of six years old. This would involve all the evils and risks of a long regency, not under the wise and beloved mother who now lay dead at Versailles, but under the fatuous due de Bern, or possibly even under madame de Maintenon and her detested Jesuits. Thus the news of the daunhJn'g danger, and the alarm occasioned by it, spread far and wide , and the popular excitement brought back to people's minds the paroxysm of emotion which swept over the country when 3SO B Iftent Squire I « / 1 ?■ ■ • i i mm };, ^ i 1; 1 the king's life, in i686, hung upon the sin-le hair of . dangerous operation. "^ ^"^ °^ * The dauphin got steadily worse. The fever increa<;pH =,nH he was devoured by a consuming fire The IZT^Zt cle^TtS;^' V^^' themselves^s h"d bet "ot^rK: • case of the dauphine, and again the doctors decided that tha? disease was not present. On the iith M rkl V. was apothecary both to the king and^ the due SeS^.'- "'^'^ came to Versailles to tell the latter thnt-.^ St Simon, tne due de Bdurgogne was cridc^l.^' Court constamfv ^a^ °i and repassed between Marly VersailleV nL S ^ ^^^^?^ gloomiest forebodings fi^ J^rtl;^^! ^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ the^ churches held midnight sfr^L^tJ pl^y ^eTtie.'^ wi^,^!;:'&1otgVe'd[et^' ^'^ ''''' '^ '-'' ^^- ^^^ nel^^hn^'.h^''?""'""'""' °^ ^^" ^^"P^'"'s death came the news that the king was utterly prostrated by the event, nf negoutions at Utrecht were making no prole s Thif»^! "=""')f °«"ng 'o the unpreparednels of lord St'raf&rd Th the bishop of Bristol, the British pier, pontiarfe, Th gentlemen had not sufficient instru«fons r^esLrd IZ sSth^ tior?o^r;;i t&' t zr r -« ^°' «^- ™iv'eta't°Srr '^ '"'l "' ""= ^""^ °f Marlborough" h1 a^d^rn^n«ri tKt^° ?„%- ngle hair of a r to inHiir-o a *eiit Squire of Parliament, in opposition to tl,e Tory „, nistrv acctDtS^h^ ^^: Snd^l?h"r; °' HanovlrrroX'^t'Cs against the house of Bourbon ^ ^""■''' " ^'"'''-'"'" r il-o^ioZ^^t ■" '"'? «~^ '''' "*=" "" this orfiveweeks earlier It" Irih'"" ''""J'"" '"^^e four perative necessity o it was rr^sened T"*' 'T^"-' '"- we held the House of I orH? ,? ^ >'°"- A' "'at time batch of the peace peers to he T^ '°"'^r "'">' '''"'^ ^™' a we can do nothiL w tho^,, ,t ^T^' ^ow, it seems to me, Bothmar to s°p^aro:'ttt"'p*n. ^'^='°'' '"" " '» '"' "^^ ^^ first, my dS Tke'" reoliTnT "'"before the prince solitary responsibilities "^ *"""■' "'"' "^'^ "<" <="Joy of;htag^°app"e:rs%o"'LTrrn;:c\"'' Marlborough, .'the state The people detest p^„ervTusT»,„ t P" "'* *=" "f '688- and have precisely .re''sanrtha?t"SolS f "^'"' nails Assuming all that, duke?" inquired mc Eugene, biting his ) IK / ■i i : ! f'\ I I »M .'P f l! ■; 352 a fkcnt Squire fh. L^ convinced/' replied the duke, - that the elector-or the electoral prmce *if you prefer it-should issue a manifesto announcing that the Pretendor is on his way to effec tan mvaiion with a popish army. . Te should follow up this by his iTuTe Th^ir %f '°'^^'?'>^*? ^"PP°^^ the Protestant p^l^d^t^o^^t:^-^ 3;'e^?entalTf the" w'a^r.'' '^^^ ''' ^ '''^' ^— ^^ As this programme was a very obvious invitation to Bothmar and his master to pull the chestnuts out of the fire for the " I cannot agree with you, my dear duke," he said. ■ " The people will not swallow the idea of a popish invading army without seeing or hearing more of it. They know, too tS whatever feeling the queen may have for her brother? whom she has never seen, she is herself fanatically protestant Moreover, the slightest hitch or failure in such a scheme wou d load my august master with the popular hatred and fatally prejudice the chances of the Guelph succession What we want IS something quite different " impa^Lr; """"' '°"' P'^"' ^^'"' ^^^°"'" ^^^d Eugene "I'i:^^?- ^° "^^' P""ce," replied Bothmar, "that as all our difficulties are caused by one or two persons in the government " Ftiouua m me "Well, baron?" thrway^''""^^"'' '°""^ """"^^ ^' '° S"^ '^""'^ P^^sons out of " One objection to that," remarked Eugene, "is that we as dts?e'dT^r.'^^^°^^ °' ^"^' ^ meafure.'would becl^: . "That need not quite follow," said Marlborough. "But nd"Jenr'therah '.' '.^"" '' hire a few score' of ruffians ana send them about the streets at night, insultine folks raising disturbances, and exciting mobs. After people frriH '?f "^'^ -'^ '^''' nightly scenes of violence any Hule accident happening to our friends at Downing Street would be^^fathered upon the rowdies and not upon^t" All this, gentlemen," objected Eugene, "appears to me o leave too much to mere chance, fve must^Sw th° m' by the norns. I presume, duke, it will quite readily happen * Afterwards our George II. t the elector— or issue a manifesto way to effect an ow up this by his 3rt the protestant iged against the ly like her father, government and ation to Both mar the fire for the eive it with any he said. - " The 1 invading army know, too, that f brother, whom =ally protestant. such a scheme lar hatred, and ^cession. What ' said Eugbne r, "that as all persons in the ' persons out of " is that we, as would become rough. " But, core of ruffians insulting folks, -r people have ence, any little ; Street would us." ippears to me t take the bull eadily happen a •Rent Squire 353 that the guards on duty at St. James's palace may some night • be commanded by an officer favourable to our cause ? " seJerYl!»^°"' '^°"^''" '"^"'"^ '^' ''"^'- "^ ^^"^'^ "^^ "Very good. Then I suggest that on such a night we arrange to set fire to London in various places and to the palace. In the confusion, the duke shall arrive at the head of an armed party, seize the Tower, the Bank, and the person of the queen, compel her to dissolve the present parliament and summon another, and impeach the ministry for clandestine cor^respondence with France. What do you say to that! adj^umer"^'' '"''"' ^' "^ *° ^'"^ '^^^ ^^' discussion might be "All this makes a considerable demand upon me, prince" repl^fng!" "^ ^ '^°"^^ ^'^' '" ^°"^"^^ ^^ friends^Se The prince could not very well demur to this, and the conference broke up. But when some of the Whig leaders notably lords Somers Cowper, and Halifax, were informed of the prince's proposals, they absolutely refused to entertaiV hem for a moment, and were only willing that Bothmar should issue a special representation, on the part of the elector, against the peace. The baron, who had fhe wa mes' approval for schemes of the Whigs in which he was no expected to take part, declined to move personally whhou .ftpSi^^:^».^:-^L^^^^ a fresh proposition. This was that the elector shonMh! appointed generalissimo of the troops fn Flanders and governor-genera of the Netherlands, and that his eldest 4n the electoral pnnce, should come over to Enghnd to nlac' himself at the head of the Whigs ■•^"guna to place under it would be extinguished for ever ~ All th^ wfc"" ^TlJ'V ^'' ^!^ V" secret ZtMalo^ough^re"! Objection to the prince's last programme was that it would 23 I I s ift;| ;i, i ii ■ ; 354 H ftent Sqi'fre place the elector m precisely the place which the duke intended to reserve for himself in case of emergency The prmce thus found himself repulsed on all sides and angnly accused his fellow-conspirators of being at hearl nothmg but republicans who were determined to have no kmg at all, Guelph or Stuart. It happened very conveniently for the ministry (and also reoorted ^TT""^ '^'', '!"''' ^^^'^^^ conversaUns were ^po ted to them regularly as they occurred. For some months past a certam Irish Jesuit named Plunket, who hTd been brought up at Vienna, and was an intimate fn;nd of the coS : of th?al.h '"T^' '^' '^''''''"^ ^^°"^ ^ha^ ^"-tronary copies of the ambassador's correspondence with the emperor P.nn ."vf 'A T^'^l'^'T. *° ^°^d Oxford through WmLm Penn the Quaker, he laid these letters before him The ord-treasurer took them to the queen, with the St that they at once settled with her the question of mak nca separate peace with France at all costs. ^ As Eugfene promptly conveyed the details of his various T^JZw '^ '^' r^^^^^dor. who forthwith wrote abou them to his imperial master, the information in question a SyTloVoxtd^'^r ""^^^^y' ^^^" ^° Plunkerand nna y to ord Oxford. The ministry were, therefore nerfprtlv familiar with all the stages of the intrigue, ind rconsem^^^^^^ took every precaution to guard against a roup d^etat. "''^"^"'^ During the celebration of the queen's birthday, February 17th donhl^f "^H^'- J""?'^'' P^^"^^ were closed, the guaSs were doubled, and several detachments of cavalry were stationed orince' S'^°"^'°°^- Under the pretext Vsa7e4uTding prince Eugbne against the expected pressure of the mob some troops were appointed to attend him; but °hese weTe iri reahty intended to act as spies. The queen had been ter fb v W^t?'1.^^°:;" °^ '^^ ^"^^^^ suggestions of the more reckle s sS To forrf P'°P"''^ '° J^'^^ ^ ^""^"^^ i" the crowded Oxford q/m ''""l '"!." ^^^ ^'■^^^"^y' ^"d to assassinate Oxford, St. John, and the lord-chancellor Harcourt To reassure her majesty, and also to be on the safe s de h mself and St Tnh^''? apartments in the palace, while Harbour t dark ^'-But all the^h'"'' "°' '" i^^^'^ ^^^'^ h°"«^« ^T oark. But all the three were careful to keep the causp nf hese precautions rigorously secret, and thus probacy averted a serious popular outbreak. "u^uiy averiea While these more private matters were joing on the proceedings in parliament were not running alto.ghe'r smoothlj 5 which the duke emergency. 1 on all sides, and •f being at heart nined to have no ministry (and also onversations were jrred. For some Plunket, who had mate friend of the m that functionary with the emperor, through William before him. The th the result that ion of making a lils of his various with wrote about on in question at » to Plunket, and herefore, perfectly d in consequence ' d'etat. ay, February 17th, , the guards were ry were stationed of safe-guarding lire of the mob, but these were in had been terribly the more reckless t in the crowded nd to assassinate ■ Harcourt. To safe side himself, while Harcourt sir houses after !ep the cause of probably averted going on, the ogether smoothly a meat Squire 3-5 his secretary Cardon'neTfrom hisCt' in1h'''?T '"^ ^^"^^ the Lords a new difficulty had arisen ' "°"'"- ^"' '" recomS^Vthe retnTderaf"^' TL ^^ ^^^ ^ — ge, patent. But many of The Jn! " °^ '^^ ^"^" °^ HamiltoS' particularly in SvfwUh thesf bX'"' ^^VVon^x. were not ■majority could be Jo out of direcf F ^fT'' '° '°"g ^« ^ duke's peerage was thprlf^l F"^''''' creations. The without '.ny'decS ^ nf co^eV'ESt ^h'"l ^'^^°"-' struck work in a body declaring fL.'.K the Scottish peers in an assembly which ' re utS?o SLnrse T"'^ "° ^°"^^^ ^^^ rights. Thus the Whig oDDositfon^ ff v ^"' constitutional delight, found itself once more in Tr;n- ^^ ^"?,a^ement and proceeded to utilise and on L ^°"^^- ^^'^ '^ ^^ once the abbe Gaultier sem hv .n . ^''^"'"^ °^ February icth letter to M. de Torcy • ^ "'P''"'' "^^^senger the following " M. LE MARQUIS, car^^nVV ti: 'Z^^'^'l ^^»-oo„ the House of Lords lord Halifax, to the effeTthJt an ?hh " ^'^""^^^ ^^^^^^rd by to her maiesty ' signifvinl fhi ?" ^^'^'"^ss should be presented the specific timro£eVbvThi^F''°^^''*^y"^«^ at Utrecht on February ist on L^J,?'r P ^"'Potentiaries * X v.. . d promising ^to stand hv i f ^'^ "^^^t^ ^ouis with their lives and fortunes in nrn^«.?- ^'"u^ '^^ "^J^^ty utmost vigour.' ^""unes, m prosecuting the war with tlie Gaultier de Beauval " r„r ^"' of Madame de M^So ■' «\^o h"a'p^::^ To t seen, to be fishtin» L^'n'f „; ..^''' ''">' ^'^'^ "' 'heir courses The n,arqu.e, Vo had been a good dea, upse. by ehe •M„.cha,d'U„to,„d,heabbed.P„|,s„„. 11 ■ *' l".f, 356 a Ikent Squire deaths of the dauphine and the dauphin, read the letter with a haggard face. "Say rather, M. le marquis," she replied, "that it is the hand of Providence, the judgment of Heaven upon us for toleratmg m our midst that demon the due d'Orleans. What can one expect otherwise ? " In his grief and anxiety the marquis quite lost patience at this diatribe. " Pooh ! madame," he snapped, taking the letter back brusquely, " there are worse people than M. d'Orldans. Let us talk a little sense." The marquise drew herself up, and her eyes glittered malignantly. "Do you then wish me to believe, M. le marquis, that you have no suspicions?" " Suspicions, madame ? What about ? " " As to the author of these fatalities ? " ^'' You have just attributed them to Providence, madame." " Providence may in its wisdom employ agents. M. le marquis." >■ ■> o " Agents, madame ? " "Yes, monsieur— willing agents, who are none the less accursed because they are willing." "I do not understand you, madame. Be more explicit " The marquis bit her lips. "Since you prefer to ignore what is under your eyes M le marquis, I will point out to you that if M. le due d'Orl'eans intends to make his daughter queen of France, he has un- doubtedly made a very fine beginning." ii w - CHAPTER XLIV WHAT M. DE TORCY HEARD AT CALAIS The marquis could scarcely restrain his indignation at this innuendo. "Good heavens! madame," he said, "that is a monstrous thing to say — if you are serious." " If I am serious, monsieur ? Is that the sort of thing that passes for a iest with vov. ■* " " At all events, madame, jest or earnest, I beg that you will keep your theory to yourself till you have better grounds ad the letter with , "that it is the .'en upon us for I'Orleans. What : lost patience at the letter back d'Orleans. Let r eyes glittered le marquis, that ice, madame." ' agents, M. le none the less lOre explicit." r your eyes, M. le due d'Orleans ice, he has un- LAIS gnation at this is a monstrous rt of thing that beg that you better grounds n Tkcnt Squire 357 u"^- '*• ^VY ,f<^!"'^^"s is to be credited with everything that brmgs M. de Bern nearer to the succession, vou may as well Monseigne"ir/' ^'"'"'' "'^ °^ '^' '''' '^'"^ °^ ^P^'" ^"^ °f " Monsieur, you may think as you please. But what would due d'Al!jou ? '^"'"^ ^'^^""""^ '° '^^ ^"' ^^ ^'"'"^'"^ °^ *he "It is quite enough, madame, to lose two heirs to the monarchy in ess than a twelvemonth, without speculating upon the utterly improbable contingency you mention. What is at present the only thing of consequence is the constitution of the regency which must, in the ordinary course of things be called upon before very long to govern the country." ^ .J V\ l^ u''^ ^^^'^' ^^^ "^^'■^"•s h^d thrown out upon the subject to the marquise, and he hoped that she would give some hint of her own intentions in connection with it Everybody knew that her devotion to the cause of the Tesu ts was only rivalled by her determination to advance at ^1 costs the interests of the two sons of the king whom she had ofTr owS' "rtf" '"PP^il^' ^" ""'' ^^^ I^-^ «f -^"d'^n Montespan the due du Maine and the comte de Toulouse who had been from the cradle so entirely in the hands of madame de Maintenon that their own mother had never at any time meant anything to them whatever. It w^ the common talk that, sooner or later, the marquise would succeed m squeezing her foster-children into the charmed circle of recognised royalty, and thereby make a counterweight to the claims of the due de Berri and the due d'Orldans The delth tl .hA'"PK\^'J^ immediately been followed by rumours that the two bastards were to be put upon a council of regency 1 whoT;; "s'uVe'o'f Tt^^'V"'- "^"^^"^ '^ --'"-' ine wnoie pressure of the king's Jesuit entourage would be On Z .? "T'% ^Z "^^ ^"^ ^" ^^i"^ the sde Regency ?n M. if ^^"^' '^^' ^"''"''°" ^o"ld be such an oKe on the legitimate princes in the direct line, to say notS of the great princes of the blood, the due deBourbLcond? the prince de Conti, and the due de Vendome th.f 2 ' Ijople expected the king could be won over % conslnT to it. But, m either case, it was obvious that recent event, had enormously added to the probable irnportance o7 th' Maintenon party in the fuMir^ r^oi.^.v. „f /iTT""^"^® C T„W Tf'% however, •re?uQ";o te 'drawn" T/'lJi- de Torcy's hint and contented herself with saying, ^ ji 358 a 1kcnt Squire yJii^L*** "^n *?'u.'^ marquis, it is evident we must wait "We must not forget, madame, that this Gauhier hn» stood thac d'Sx4sld°d:- pSgS^cT^vl'LtV"^"- egregiously at Utrecht" ■^""gnac Have been bluffing relldThVSqS '"""=" '° '" ^" *« "^ '""^ Oxford," worst." -^"feo'ng at. ihat, however, is not the " What else, M. le marquis ? " su p'^se-lt1,iT'tre;r,^•d^!.';l;aeTr„;° •■;' '^^^■'"^• die to-morrow, is it not certain halthlr,!^ ??''>' ""^ '<> ^^the^^mi.;, .ou,d rrcnu^?„^cr^>rs^-^ ™gu!?ded'/' ""'""' ''' "•™«™"=!" cried the marquise because the A^ST ciaim^nrtoTZnTof stin^'L^ in the meantime actually become emnZr nf ?:.'>P^'" hjis The marquise promptly fell into this trap. ihis was all the marquis had been fishing for. .elf_t^1,"ir« '°';"f."'^duc du Maine," he said to him- 'ilT~u' '^ '"^ "iaKc ins aaieux. i hon, you may prove a true prophet, madame," he ient we must wait able to tolerate any rt in its discussion. it for the moment, this Gaultier has late. Lord Oxford ye— why, I cannot uch more behind I it is quite under- ave been bluffing U by lord Oxford," 3 better than get md thus lose his st reconsider our ar some morning g terms that we ver, is not the 1 to the regency. majesty were to of Spain, as head laim to be sole d the marquise gland, madame," aver the Allies le of Spain has of Germany, do could persuade France who was lay rest as. ..■ ,: •f Spain to ft,,. he said to him- madame," he 'H It a *i?ent Squire 359 remarked aloud " For, in spite of ihe ability of mau-w;.e des Ursms, It would p ace us in a very ;ivvkward position. Apropos madame, it rather surprises me thai you do not see the hand of the princesse in our deph.rable bereavements— she has Sam" '^ """'^ ^° ^'''" "^ *^®™' '" ^^^- ^^'^"' With these Parthian shafts the marq-Ms bowed himseli out, leaving madame de Maintenon to fume over the bare Idea of the Spanish catnerara mayor coming back to Versailles to effect her former patron's political extinction. The n.arquis went directly to the rooms he occupied at the chateau where he found his secretary and nephew i.avalr.ye waiting for him. ^ •' R.^nd," he said, "this news from England is very awkward and there is so much time lost in going and coming betweeri here and Calais that I think of staying there for a few days to "r^thi^'gnt?'''"^ ''°" '^°"'^°"- «^^^ y- ^^-d •| People are whispering about the due d'OrMans " NotWngtsV?''^' "'"^ ''°"''" ^'' ^''^^ ^''^^'"S "'^^^^y' ^'^^"• r Jln?» '^ '' ^ ^°°^ *^'^' °^ ^^'^ °^ ^h^ due du Maine as regent. . "^^^?^^ll """"'u^f ^Sg from the same nest-do your best ' nnH P ^k'P; ^^l'^ '^P"""^' ^'■^ "o^ «^t ^f^^^ut for nothiuM S2 o k". ^f ^'" ^^' ^ '''''^ °^ b^'"S stone-deaf just when he ought to hear a fly walking " ceiw"' Hptn^P^f "'' ""^T ^^ P°"t^hartrain, was the chan- cellor. He had previously been secretary of state, was descended fZ I \f^r 1 ')' ''''' "«^^^' ^"d had a son who at th^ time held it In fact, this function was filled by his famUv uninterruptedly during the hundred and sixty-five years between 1610 and ,775-m modest emulation of the Montmorencis dukes of Luxembourg, who had furnished an almost unbroken Tentury "'"'''' '"' '°"^^^^^^^ °^ ^^^'^^^ since the e,e^^^^^^^^ The marquis in due course arrived at Calais, and presented himself, as in duty bound, at the governor's hoise. He made arrangements to send over messages at once to Loi^on Lf SL?r!i^^^fit "^^^ r despLL trS; for de^is;;nh^deidi:;k wi;^ ti^iJs; ^.Tilrls he and M. Daguerre went into the salon,^here they found -ir .1 !■ if 360 a Ikent Squire ! 1 mk'- i I ■- = ■ ■ ' *< •iN mademoiselle Victoire waiting for them. The marquis delivered the compliments of M. Ren^ de Lavalaye, which the young lady acknowledged with a curtsy. "Have you told M. le marquis the news?" she asked of her father, as soon as the conventions had been duly attended to. "What news, my dear?" inquired the governor, who had heard a good many things lately. " About our guest of two months back, M. Gwynett." '' Parbleu ! no— it had slipped my memory. A deplorable affair, M. le marquis. Did you happen to hear of it ? " " I have heard nothing of M. Gwynett since he left France," replied de Torcy. " What has happened ? " " Something incredible, monstrous, frighiful ! " cried Victoire. " M. Gwynett has been hung." " What ! murdered ?" exclaimed the marquis. " No — executed on the gallows ! " The marquis looked at Victoire with an air of stupefaction. " Impossible ! " he ejaculated finally. "Unfortunately, there appears to be no doubt about it," said the governor. " My dear, find that newspaper for M. le marquis." Victoire brought out a London broadsheet, dated February 7th, which contained an account of the execution at Maid- stone, and gave all the known details of the supposed murder. " This reached us with a parcel of others from England about a week ago," went on M. Daguerre. "I intended to inform you of the matter, but these terrible events at court put it out of my head. You see, it is quite circumstantial- Ambrose Gwynett of Thornhaugh. That was his name and place, was it not ? " The marquis perused the paper with amazement and indignation. " It is perfectly scandalous," he said. " M. Gwynett murder a companion for the sake of a few louis d'or ! Nothing will induce me to believe it. In fact, these people seem to have been in too much of a hurry. How could they be sure any- body was murdered at all ? " " That is rather a curious point, M. le marquis. We have had a man here who seemed to know a good deal about the affair. He was at this Deal inn on the" night in question. There appears to have been an eye-witness of the actual encounter between the two men, and it was he who instigated a Ikent Squire 361 he marquis delivered 'e, which the young news?" she asked )ns had been duly governor, who had M. Gwynett." lory. A deplorable hear of it ? " ince he left France," ful ! " cried Victoire. rquis. air of stupefaction. 10 doubt about it," lewspaper for M. le eet, dated February execution at Maid- ; of the supposed hers from England e. "I intended to events at court put te circumstantial — was his name and 1 amazement and M. Gwynett murder I'or ! Nothing will sople seem to have Id they be sure any- marquis. We have raod deal about the night in question. less of the actual he who instigated the arrest of M. Gwynett. Nevertheless, this witness did not appear at the trial, or even at the examination before the magistrate." " That seems remarkable. Who is your informant ? " " An English smuggler who does a little business now and again in carrying letters across the Channel. He is the man who has started with your letters." The marquis looked mechanically at the paper for some moments, and then laid it down with a lugubrious sigh. " This is really a shock to me, my dear governor. I had a great regard for that young fellow. He was one of the only two or three men that I have met in all Europe who gave one the instinctive feeling that they were equal to any conceivable emergency. It takes a great deal off one's mind to have that kind of person within reach, I can assure you— when it happens." " We ourselves were greatly taken with him," remarked M. Daguerre, for himself and his daughter. "It makes me quite uncomfortable to think of a little prophecy I made him the first day h«^ came to Versailles," said the marquis. "I told him he was, like Polycrates, too lucky, and that some disaster was certainly awaiting him. ^Ve had a joke about that brig he brought from Cadiz, to the effect that he was not to sink it by way of conciliating fortune." ^ " Ah ! the F/eur de Zw— that reminds me of something else I was going to tell you. We sent the brig under convoy to Ostend, as I daresay you recollect, and de- livered her to a consignee there named by yourself in your instructions." " Certainly," said the marquis. T "'^^^ boatswain of my galley, an Ostend man named Lestraade, has a cousm at that port, a sailor, who was engaged as one of the crew, to take this Fleur de Lys from Ostend to bchevenmgen and thence to London." ^" Well ? " asked the marquis a little anxiously. " It appears this cousin and his mates got very drunk and set the brig on fire after leaving Scheveningen. She burnt to the water's edge, and then sank." "Good heavens ! '' exclaimed the marquis. " Was anything of the cargo saved ? " ■' 6 " I really do not recollect that she had any cargo," replied he governor. " In any case, I think that nothing could have Deen saved. The captain and crew were taken off in the nick U i I 362 S Ikent Squire of time by a Nantucket cod-schooner, which landed the Flemish sailors at the Texel anH tr^r^l fK^ i^nuea me ■n^ni r^ t ^cxei, ana took the captam on to Deal. Curiously enough, the people of the schooner were some sort of relatives of the captain of the brig >,''''^' ^^'^ thiln^w'S^re""'' ^"^"^' ^^'"'^"^ °^^^"^^^ bearings of " 9ur disasters seem never to be ended," he said to himself 'It IS just possible the duke transferred the chests to ^ome other hiding-place before he left the Hague. But if he did Z then that million sterling is at the bott'om of the ea and w^ have beggared ourselves for nothing. He wil betrav us mthout scruple if he has losf the monly. I shouM very rXuch doy^ith-Gllas.'!^^ '-' '^^^^ ''' -- -^- he SeTto This latter piece of information, it may be said, had reached ~'" bntt^tn^^^^^ T"^' '' the 'amtsSdor's secretary, ± lunket, lord Oxford, and the abb^ Gaultier aftpr the fashion detailed in the previous chapter. ' ^' final^ '' "' ^°"«i"«fLestraade's?" asked the marquis "I have no idea," replied M. Daguerre. " But Lestraade himself ,s downstairs, if you would like%o see him^^" 1 should," said the marquis. M. Daguerre sent for the boatswain, who promptly made I'^it'srhisTbHitr'Butr"' ^- '^ ^^^'^y^ '^eZnitoti ^ S^t^t ^ll^Z^l-f^ r^tkeTqt wer7.^f'verv tuT^'' ^^ [' "^''^^•^"'^'" ^^ '^^^^ "^hat they " Then how did you get to know the details ? " lately."""" "'P'"'"' ^' '" "^"^'l"''- ^^ ^^^ ^een here twice " What is his name ? " '' Kermode, the consignee of the brig at Ostend " nut m the governor. " Hp is the -nrnf--'-- ' ^""l^^^^y^ put now." — 1^ me amuggici x spoKe ol just The marquis recollected that this was the person whose u a Ikent Squire 363 liich landed the le captain on to e schooner were ig.» !r the bearings of 2 said to himself, i chests to some But if he did not, the sea, and we : will betray us hould very much ■n he refused to aid, had reached he ambassador's € Gaultier, after ked the marquis " But Lestraade lim." promptly made [uestions to the that his cousin, to Dunkerque, e F/euf' de Lys aid, "that they t none of them was lucky they themselves in off bodily— all, ill drunk when )een here twice Ostend," put spoke of just person whose name was brought to him by Cardonnel after he had parted from the duke at Eekeren. "AH this is curious," he cogitated to himself, "I rather wonder the duke has not thought fit to say something about it— after all, we only lent him the brig. Possibly he heard of the execution, and thought M. Gwynett had no further use for the ship. On the other hand, he is quite capable of removing those chests secretly, and afterwards sinking the brig to provide an excuse for jockeying us." Then he asked aloud, " How often does this Kermode turn up here ? " " It is quite an accident, monsieur," replied Lestraade. " It depends upon business. He is well known to all the people of M. le chevalier de St. George, and sometimes he is fairly busy carrying letters and passengers across the channel. At other times one sees nothing of him for months." " Let me know if he returns here before I leave," said the marquis, with a nod of dismissal. Lestraade saluted and went out. Victoire, who had not found the later subjects of discussion very interesting, brought round the conversation to the recent events at Versailles and Marly, and catechised the maiquis as exhaustively as she dared upon the various details of the circumstances in question. The marquis did his best to satisfy her curiosity, and then begged to be allowed to retire for the night. The next morning he found himself suffering from an attack of jaundice, brought on, as he conjectured, by nothing but worry. But he thought the change of air at the seaside would be hkely to do him good, and so decided not to cut short his visit. For several days he crawled about, not ill enough to be compelled to take to bed, and too unwell to throw off the gloom which the disastrous occurrences of the last few days had inspired in him. The tragic termination to Gwynett's short career had come upon him with a shock all the greater from its entire unexpectedness, while the utter uncertainty in which he was plunged regarding the duke of Marlborough's intended action depressed his spirits to zero. One morning, about a week after his arrival, he was driving down to the port with M. Daguerre, when the governor drew ms attention to a short and enormously stout man who had just landed on the beach from a small lugger c *'^^^^ il.f>""'°'^^'" ^'^ "^'d- "i^robabiy he has letters for you. Will you speak to him ? " The marquis signified assent, and the footman was sent to ^1i 364 a Ikent Squire h. ' if? t' it fetch up the captain, who was just about to go to the governor's house with the expected despatches. When he camlup to the carnage he saluted and handed over a package of letters. " Captain," said the governor, "you can say you deHvered your letters at first hand. This is M. de Torcy for whom we convoyed that brig to Ostend. M. le maS wouTd b^ interested to hear a few particulars of the rescue of?ourself and the crew when the ship was lost." yourseu A peculiar expression, which the marquis felt himself unable to mterpret, flashed for a moment across the capta^s face ' foreS!" ' '''^''^'" ^' '^P^^"^' ^°"^h'"g his .Z ^"""^ 7°" 5"^ """"'F ^° d'scharge at Ostend or anywhere ds^e, captain Kermode?" asked the marquis, in a careless •' No, your honour. There were a couple of dozen puncheons stay'eS'thei.'""'' " ''' '°^' "'^'^ ^ '°°^ ^^^ «-' ^m the" brigt" ■' ^""^ ^""^ ^'^ ^°"' ""^^ '''^"^Se to lose you the "Couldn't say for certain, your honour. Guess thev broached the liquor casks and took a supply to the foLstle Anyhow, she was in a blaze up to the cross-trees before we sighted assistance, and all those fellows as drunk as a boilld owl, lying about like logs." ^^ M.'DaJueVetL'm^."'" '"*^°"""^' '^''"'^^ <" y--' fo^Mf-fe'erf ^mfne"" '™''"' "' '"'""'=''"' "^^-^ "^ " Where did she come across you ? " "Off Texel, your honour. It was no use taking the Dutchmen to England, so we watched our chance of t de and wind, and rowed them ashore near Koog. They all got home safely, I believe." ^ ^ " Was the Fleiir de Lys afloat then ? " ,h" ^.\ ^°!"' ^°"°"'- ^""^ h^'^ an hour after we left her about five leagues from shore." ' II Of course, you reported your loss in England ? " Yes your honour Went to London to lord Marlborough." Why ? asked the marquis, who was rather startled at the open connection of the duke's name with the affair iiecause we were under convoy of his ship, the Mermaid H fkcnt Squire 36s o to the governor's -n he came up to ackage of letters, say you delivered Torcy, for whom iiarquis would be rescue of yourself "elt himself unable captain's face, lied, touching his tend or anywhere uis, in a careless dozen puncheons ler over, but they to lose you the ir. Guess they ' to the fo'castle. s-trees before we Irunk as a boiled Jlatives of yours, ucket, owned by use taking the chance of tide oog. They all fter we left her, ,nd ? " i Marlborough." ther startled at h the affair. >, the Mermaid, B. But we got This reply relieved the marquis. Not knowing what migh. have passed between Marlborough and Kermode ^.% to the ownership of the Fleur de Lys, he decided to make no reference to this last matter. But he was desirous of learning something about Gwynett's arrest, and accordingly remarked, " There was a curious affair, captain, that I have heard about from M. Daguerre — that murder at Deal. You were in the inn at the time, he tells me ? " " A little before, your honour — an hour or so." " What was that story abo^'*: an eye-witness of the murder ? " " Some fellow had a yarn about seeing the scuffle, your honour, and it was he that gave the alarm. But next day he was gone." " Has he r.ot been seen since ? " "Well, your honour, some folks said he turned up at the hanging. I don't know that I ever saw him myself. The people at the inn put him down for a Frenchman." It did not appear that the captain could elucidate matters very much further, so the marquis dismissed him, and returned to the governor's house to decipher his despatches. These contained the intelligence that after a good deal of coaxing the Scotch peers had been persuaded to make up matters with lord Oxford, and had returned to their party allegiance in the House of Lords. On the other hand, the death of the due de Bourgogne had as yet made no difference in the avowed intentions of the Tory ministry. As the need for his absence from court seemed to M. de Torcy to have for the present passed away, he decided that he would rather be indisposed at Versailles than at Calais. He therefore took his leave of the governor and his daughter, and set out on his return to Paris. During the journey he had occasion to notice the increasing uneasiness manifested by the public at the state of matters in the political world. Everywhere the most sinister rumours were in circulation. The king was said to be dying, and the Jesuits were only awaiting his last breath to seize upon the government. The peace negotiations were broken off, and the Allies were in full march for the frontier, determined this time to carry out an actual invasion. The due d'Orl^ans had placed himself at the head of an armed revolt against madame de Maintenon's party. The due du Maine was already at the head of affairs, and was going to put the due d'Orldans in the Bastille. To these canards was added, nearer Paris, the charge against the due d'Orl^ans of poisoning the dauphin ^1 d,( ■ ^ I f. j J| ■ i i; i 366 a ikent Squire "Go on straight to Versail es"i,Vi?h. ^ ""''■" notice that fhe ^00 oach fl ?h. , """ ^^ ^^' ^'^^^^ to impassable by the CSs o? 1 vl^'i"'" ^"'/^"^"''^^ ^^^^^^t win'dow to as'cetifthe^fus'r nt wl'^'n'L^^^^^^ ^^ when he observed that the crowd wafs lent anH^K f'''"'^ face, as the carriaj^p Maht^ a^ui ■' ^"^ ^"^t every of the assembled multitude A v^^f c^k , ^ " *"^ ^^''^ .he .„.„.. a.,d cties bte fj^^t^S Lt£t^ -IjS'ento^p-p'ed: aS" rl?; w"ne7Z\ "' , *^ Bretf/ner^JJed te^ ^:^::^' "*^ ''-P'"". '"e duo de le road groups of ind rumours from de Torcy reached 1 passing through to and fro, and hotels of leading en struggling for tion and his in- )me and to bed. ove through the >ws and ask the body is shouting i poisoners ! ' " marquis angrily, all that old she- y covered when pass the carriage was alarmed to •endered almost he let down the I more alarmed and that every expressed grief, i the marquis is entering the upon the ears d to arise from h had hitherto irquis, as the by Lavalaye, ew misfortune Ik. in, the due de a Ikent Squire 367 CHAPTER XLV UNCLE AND NEPHEW The marquis learned later that the little dauphin had been increasingly ill for several days past, and that, by a curious fatality, three successive bulletins to this effect had failed to reach him— the first messenger having fallen ill on the road, and the two later ones having passed the marquis on his return journey without knowing it. The death of a third heir to the monarchy was the signal for a vehement renewal of the attacks upon the due d'Orleans which emanated from the party of madame de Maintenon and the due du Maine, and the court was assiduously plied with rumours that the ' c/iambre ardente ' was to be reconstituted to inquire into the unparalleled fatalities which had overtaken the royal family. 1 J^^'^'^'^'''^"'^ rt/'a'(?;//^' was a renewal by Louis XIV of an old tribunal, employed at intervals since the time of Francis I for the discovery and extirpation of heresy. The last court had been established in 1677 to investigate the wide-spread crimes which had followed upon the career of the notorious marquise de BrinviUiers, and which were chiefly associated with the equally notorious Catherine Montvoysin, nee Deshayes, usually called La Voysm. To this woman half of the courJ and he parliament seemed at one time or other to have resorted, either to obtain poisons, to get rid of children whose impending arrival was inconvenient, or to celebrate the famous messes mires ' which were to secure the good offices of the Power of Evil in furtherance of their ambitions. Thei ealousies, or their hatreds. A perfect epidemic of murder sorcery, and sacrilege raged through the fashionable world at this period under the auspices of the La Voysin gang The peeresses de Vivonne (sister-in-law of madame de Montespan), de Bouillon, de Soissons (mother of prince Eugene), de Vitry, de Polignac, de Tingry, de Rou?e de la Ferte, de Duras, the dues de Vendome and de Luxen^bourg h^ZT f'T^^y distinguished personages, were showrl by the court to have patronised La Voysin fo; purposes in ^filr?,;r:i ?^f, -"-->• :r^^ bodiL of twS tCsanS nrc ..undxcu children were admitted to have been disposed of in a furnace at the back of her cabinet. The number of cases of poisoning shown to have been carried ou^wTth h?r 368 H ment Squire assistance alarmed Louis XIV hpvnnri r««« ^ . ft was finally discovered thaT' mS'e TStestntaS burnt alive or otherwise executed, and for a generatfon after wards her profession was practically extinguish J3ut of late rumours had been currer^ that "the r/S/^ ^f poisoning, sacrilege, and sorcery had founa fresh .rf.? the whole popu/ation ofVersaiHes and Paris 'oTfrenTo'f suspicion and denunciation. Thanks to the assM ,„„. ? 5 °i .nnuendos of madame de Main.enon and thTduc du Main"e nearly everyone believed that the due d'OrS^L ■ . Tj to get rid of all the members of the ro;al family who stoM In the way of the succession of his son-in-law the due de Berri Luckily for the little due d'Aniou, who was still If Vh. ie'^mZt'ZrTrr *^ ^''^'^^^ "^ ^nt^dour^and ae viiietort took a different view of the matfpr ThlZ ladies openly ascribed the deaths of the duTde BreTa.ne and his parents to the incapacity of the doctorrnnr^ rSc-?^f refused to allow them to\terfere with the Va^itarff They kept him warm, and nursed him with 'he^ utmost care- When the royal surgeons insisted upon bleeding him f L f adies set the whole of the medical st^ a defianL Selt^^^^^^^ to barricade themselves and their charge in thdr roo^s^ a finger were attempted to be laid upon him by anTone e^ceot themselves. Whether Louis YV ^ver o«.p..„:/_1 .^ "^ ^^^^i^^. any gratitude to these faithTul ' iuardhl^orhirh" kT'*? history unfortunately does not record babyhood, a Ikent Squire 369 At Marly the court was in a state of the sreatp?, ""' """^ fastened "Keep away, my dear duke!" cried d'Orlean, „, fk. . si'e^hi^rp'' """' ^°" "°^ '^^ ''^' I haviThr;,4t^°o? very^nfucTdiSed. ''^^ ^^"""^^^' ^"^ ^^ "P' looking Ther'lM: ?o"'e atcfu's thin^ b'''"''"!. T ^^^ — I verily believe I am The on "^ ^'"u^ '^'^ ^^°"' yo"> and contradict them." "^^ ™^" ^'^^ ^'^^ '^^s dared to The duke shook St. Simon by the hand very cordially '^^^^^K^:^£Sef/2 r '^^.f^^ said, rather im^ssible at Tu't by even InT ^'" ™^-e yourself corner. What are the L liHi? ?^'"S ^^ ^"^ ^o""d a to me ? " ^ '^'^ ^'"'^ "tatters people put down «Tn! ,"l^y f peak freely, M. le due » " Well then 'm I' T °'''^''°" ^°^ ceremony ? " u ^^"'..^'^^"' ^^- le due, It is whisppred " I api;r;ru.'' ^"^^ "''^l^^^^ ^ ^hey b^wled as I came along. " Bawled what, M. le due ? " 24 37© B Ikent Squire ** How the deuce should I know ? Something about my having poisoned the Bourgognes and their two youngsters, very Hkely. A propos^ how is the due d'Anjou ? " " No worse, we hear. But what are you doing in this place ? " ** I am going to pay my respects to the king, of course. I may have poisoned his majesty, you see, for all I know. I don't pretend to be wiser than other people." M. de St. Simon looked very much alarmed. "Permit me to urge, M. le due, that you must really be careful. They talk here of nothing but the Bastille for you." " Pardien ! that is lucky, for I came here, as it happens, on purpose to ask for a lettre de cachet. It is pleasant to find everybody of the same mind." ■" A lettre de cachet ? " echoed St. Simon. " Why not ? " " Think of the scandal ! " ** Pooh ! my dear duke, do you suppose I am going to let these people talk, and do nothing more than talk? I wrll compel them to do one of two things — either they shall make themselves ridiculous, or they shall put me in the Bastille." " The king will never consent to it." " My dear duke, if I do not manage, within the next half-hour, to get sent to the Bastille, I give you leave to call me an imbecile. In the meantime, do me the favour to tell all your friends who have run away that the coj.fii, is clear, and that I am sorry to have inconvenienced them." •' But really, M. le due " " And let everybody know what I have come for. Adieu for the present." The duke nodded to St. Simon, and went on past the due de Charost and his gentlemen of the guard into the king's ante-room. Here the due de Tresmes, first gentleman of the bedchamber, was in attendance. " Good day, my dear M. de Tresmes," said the duke. "How is his majesty this morning?" "The indisposition is grave, M. le due," replied de Tresmes, staring in astonishment at the unexpected visitor. " Naturally," remarked the duke. " Will you be good enough, monsieur, to ask if his majesty will do me the honour to receive me?" De Tresmes appeared aghast at this suggestion. " I am afraid it is impossible, M. le due," he stammered. " The king is really very ill, and receives no one." )mething about my eir two youngsters, .'Anjou ? " you doing in this the king, of course. ;, for all I know. I J." ned. you must really be ; Bastille for you." re, as it happens, on is pleasiant to find ; I am going to lei than talk? I will ther they shall make ; in the Bastille." ;e, within the next ve you leave to call e the favour to tell le cres in a doorwav opposite suggested that someone had just retired and left his majesty alone. The duke came forward and bowed profoundly, saying, Jlu'^' deplorable events have happened since I last had the honour of speaking to your majesty-events which, under rntrudYnVhereT''^""''' '"""''^ ^'''''' "'^^'^ '"^ ''^'"'" ^^^"^ The king glared at his nephew, and replied slowly, much T K ' »''"'■ ^""'"'^^ bereavements have shaken me much. I have to reserve the little strength I still possess for those matters which urgently concern my government I will, therefore, ask you to be brief." vcrnmcnc. i maiWv ' ""J. °"^ °^ ^^°'^ "'^'?''' ' ^^^'■'•^d to consult your coSed.'' '^P''''' '•'"' '^'' ^^'^^ "''"^^ h^^^ been " What crimes, M, le due ?" Ja If fj.^'?' ''!l''^l^"' °^ monsieur and madame de Bourgogne and of the due de Bretagne-perhaps also of the due d'AS/' Assassinations!" ejaculated the king, in a husky vo°ce That IS a terrible word, M. le due " ^ the' woT^Bur^fT- '^"'i '\'^^^ '' "^°'-^ t^^^'ble than majerty—" '' °"'^ '^' ^^""^ ^^'^^ ^""^y^ your ;| Good God ! M. le due, what are you saying ? " I am saying, sire, that if there is a question of assassina- ''oAilS'^"':' V^, y°" '^^° ^""^^ of assassinations." Unly I, sire ?" " What do you mean, monsieur?" ,, c f ' ^ ^^^ ^""^ serious matters " « aZ J y°">". "^^Jesty can say one way or the other." indig^'nTntlV' '""'"''' '^' '' '"^'" ^^^^^ '^^ l^'"g ^^ What criminal, monsieur ? " "Myself, sire— 1 presume." wi.?:J'a"elrn..''"«'" "P '" '^' ^-^ '~''^d « the duke .1 ll t HI i%f 374 H Ikent Squire " Are you out of your senses, monsieur ? " he asked. "It is not for me to say, sire. But if your majesty does not choose to be interested in discovering the assassin of three members of our house, that does not prevent other people being interested." The king fell back upon his pillows, with his hands trembling. The duke kept his eyes on the bed, and his ears on the door behind him. "M. le due," said the king, in a strangled voice, "I am not equal to talking in enigmas. If you have anything to say, be explicit." " By all means, sire. I have come for a /effre de cachet ^ " For whom, monsieur ? " " For myself, sire." " For what reason, monsieur ? " "It appears, sire, that I am the assassin we have been talking about. That is, I presume, reason enough." The duke heard the door behind him open and close. " You the assassin, M. le due ? " stammered the king. " So they say, sire." " They say — who ? " "A good many people, I hear, sire, tenon and M. du Maine, for instance, not become me to contradict them." "M. le due," said the voice of the marquise behind him, " that is an outrageous assertion." "Ah ! good day, madame la marquise," said the duke, bowing. " Which is outrageous, madame ? your assertion, or my assertion of your assertion ? " "Yoa have listened to mischief-makers, M. le due," said the marquise, with a virtuous air. " I accept your statement, madame. Certainly, you ought to know." " It is easy to be evasive, M. le due," said the marquise angrily, and turning very red. " You are an excellent judge, madame," replied the duke, who thought he saw his way to a serviceable explosion. " But all this does not bring me any nearer to my lettre de cachet. Use your good offices, madame, with his majesty to get me put in the Bastille and interrogated as a poisoner, on the accusation of yourself and M. du Maine. Pardieu ! you may be right aflei ail— who knows? It is difficult for the most estimable person to escape from the influence of his surround- ings, and of the examples set before him from infancy." Madame de Main- Of course, it would hands trembling, ears on the door d voice, " I am ise behind him, [. le due," said .inly, you ought d the marquise H Ikent Squire 375 "What on earth are you talking about, monsieur?" cried the kmg unguardedly. "Why, sire, is it not clear that M. de Bourgogne and his son stood m the way of my daughter becoming queen of France? and that the due d'Anjou, whom it appears I have also poisoned, still stands in the way ? Surely, when it is a question of getting rid of inconvenient people, it would not houseT"™^ *° ^'^^^^' scruples than the heads of my " I asked you to be explicit, M. le due," said the king, in a tone of extreme irritation. ^ .hi! ^5";/°' 'T^''''^' ''P' ^^^^' "^^^^"^e la marquise had abjured the reformed religion in order to marry the late tlltlZ. K ?^f '°?' ""^l^^ "°^ ^"^^^ "^tural that she should arrange to butcher forty thousand of your majesty's Cevennois subjecs, because they had the bad taste to refuse to follow her example ? " v^"w>w uci "Sire," cried the marquise malignantly, "it is unhannilv nothing new for M. d'Orldans to be impious " ""^^^P'^J^ ';0r again, sire," proceeded the duke, "when her late majesty the queen, mademoiselle de Fontanges, and various other people were very much in the way%f madame la marquise de Montespan, was it not a question if a good "raig'ht?"'"" """' '""^ ^^'^^^^^^^ ^° put masters "This is intolerable, M. le due!" cried the king turning pale at the reminiscence, and trembling all over ^' ^ to clisTo^? L'sir" Sanl^f Td ^X T^' H Sy"n^^"of rZ^-^-^' - ^^ -" h^: Z i^o^ puJpi: with Vry!''' '^^' '° ^^^ ^^"^'^ ^-^' -d he became " f ""s'^?; ^Mn.?'"7'" t"^^ ' ^^^^ d« yo" want ? " AT i' ?/• V°^hing! It IS madame la marquise and a^la Grfvrand'? T ^ ^° ^^T "^^ --^rtably d?sposed of at la Gr^ve and I have come here only to oblige them Let ainhmgs be done decently and in order-as madame would marq^re. ^^''P^'"''* monsieur!" cried the exasperated md;|$!5o^s^SmruS5>' i::rji\tr Bastille, sire, and then madame la mrruise'a'nd my' It 11 Hi ''\ 376 a Ikent Squire !»| du Maine can prove to your majesty's satisfaction— whatever your majesty chooses to hafe proved." "Retire to your house, M. le due," said the king, hoarse with passion. " At once, sire. And my /et^re de cachet ? " " It shall follow you immediately." "Your majesty lays me under infinite obligations. Adieu, sire — adieu, madame." The duke bowed, and disappeared before either the king or the marquise could get the last word. He found St. Simon waiting in the gallery, with a face full of anxiety. " I hope I have not been over the half-hour, my dear friend," he said. " I have been on thorns, M. le due," replied St. Simon. " What has happened ? " " Just what I expected." " Diable ! and as to the Bastille? " " That is all right. I am on my way there now." CHAPTER XLVI HOW M. d'oRLEANS returned TO THE PALAIS-ROYAL At the instant that the due d'Orle'ans was entering the king's room after his argument with de Tresmes and Bloin, a letter was placed in the hands of the comtesse de Valincour, who was sitting in her own room leading out of the late duchesse de Bourgogne's salon. No arrangements had as yet been made for disposing of the personnel of the households of the dauphin and dauphine, and all the courtiers and others who had been on the Marly establishment looked to the goodwill of madame de Maintenon to find or make vacancies for them elsewhere. As the Bourgogne entourage had always been rigorously independent of that of the king, this state of things naturally went very much to strengthen the hands of the marquise, and to sweep away what little support might hitherto have been accorded to the due d'Orldans at Marly. The result was made sufficiently obvious by the iashion in which the duke had just been received at the chateau. The comtesse opened her letter, and read : H Ikent Squire 377 action — whatever the king, hoarse ligations. Adieu, ; either the king found St. Simon ety. ilf-hour, my dear eplied St. Simon. now. )i PALAIS-ROYAL entering the king's md Bloin, a letter ie Valincour, who le late duchesse de e for disposing of )hin and dauphine, een on the Marly ame de Maintenon sewhere. As the rously independent aturally went very uise, and to sweep ave been accorded result was made I the duke had just i "Madame, M. le due has just entered the chateau to demand a Mtre de cachet for the purpose of compelling an investigation of the rumours set afloat which connect him with certain recent events. You, may, perhaps, have the opportunity of giving publicity to this initiative of M. d'Orleans. I kiss your hands. G, Dubois." "That is a good stroke of the abbd's," said the comtesse to herself. She burnt the letter, and went into the salon, which was full of members of the household and visitors from Versailles. Casting a rapid glance around, she noticed that madame de Maintenon was not present, and that the due de St. Simon had just come in. She moved across the room towards him, and addressed him in tones which reached every ear in the room. "Ah! M. le due," she said, "have you brought us the latest news ? Tell us if it is true, as we hear, that M. d'Orldans is perfectly furious?" The duke felt rather uncomfortable at the sensation which this inquiry seemed to excite in the salon, where M. d'Orldans' arrival was already known. " Really, madame la comtesse " he began. "They are saying everywhere that M. d'Orldans insists upon being arrested on account of certain horrible accusations against him. Do you know anything about it ? " "Madame, I may say that some rumours have undoubtedly reached M. d'Orleans, and " " Is he with the king now, M. le due ? " " I believe so, madame." " I suppose he will be asking for a lettre de cachet, then. Do you suppose the king will grant him one ? " " It IS impossible for me to say, madame." By this time the comtesse's manoeuvre had met with all the success she desired. Everyone in the salon understood that the duke had come to carry the war into the enemy's country and in five minutes the news was carried all over Tlr^Sff- ^^- ^™°"' ^^° ^^^^ th^t his friendship for M. d Orleans was putting him in the position of the blackest mall^cfotsly, '^' ^ '""""^ '^^ '■°°'"' ^"^ remarked of M"H'n.^"-' •" A ^''i^^r''^ n^ iG accede to the request of iVI. d Orleans, and send him to the Bastille it is of course possible that M. le due may make another request." ' m I 378 a Ikent Squire It ; "What is that, my dear M. de St. Simon?" inquired the comtesse, by way of keeping up the ball. " It concerns the room here which was assigned for the use of M. d'Orldans by M. de Bourgogne. M. le due has always found it rather small, and I am sure he would be very much obliged to any member of the household who would be so good as to exchange a better one with him." The duke looked about him with the air of expecting a rush of volunteers for the proposed transaction, and the comtesse laughed outright. " There is only one difficulty in the way of that, my dear duke," <:he said, becoming aware that madame de Mainterion had just entered the salon behind her. "What is the difficulty, comtesse?" asked the marquise, who had obviously overheard the duke's sally. " Madame," replied the comtesse very distinctly, " we have been told that there is an insufferable smell of brimstone in the room of M. d'Orl^ans." "True — I forgot that," murmured St. Simon, as he made a precipitate retreat to return to the due d'Orleans. " Adieu, madame la marquise — adieu, mesdames." The marquise bowed to the duke, and looked suspiciously at madame de Valincour, but did not see her way to an effective retort. So she remarked in a sour tone, " It appears, then, that there has been a discussion about M. d'Orldans ? " Nobody ventured to reply except the comtesse, who was nearest her. "Naturally, madame," she said. "Since the late terrible events, it seems to be always M. d'Orldans that is in question. I am sure I do not know why. Perhaps you can tell us, madame." " Madame la comtesse," returned the marquise, losing her temper, "there is one thing I can tell you, and that is that his majesty has decided to consign M. d'Orleans to the Bastille." The marquise, not knowing that this announcement had been carefully discounted a few minutes before by madame de Valincour, looked round for signs of surprise in her audience. '* The duke is very lucky, then, madame,'' replied the comtesse. " In what respect, madame ? " ?" inquired the assigned for the M. le due has sure he would ■ the household better one with • of expecting a laction, and the Df that, my dear le de Maintenon id the marquise, inctly, "we have of brimstone in ion, as he made rleans. " Adieu, )ked suspiciously ; her way to an me, discussion about mtesse, who was the late terrible at is in question, you can tell us, •quise, losing her and that is that I'Orldans to the inouncement had jfore by madame surprise in her ne," replied the ■Mi H 1kcnt Squire 379 " To have his request — or I suppose I should say his demand — acceded to so promptly." " His demand, madame ? " " That is the common talk, madame. Is it possible you are the last to hear of it ? '' The marquise began to recognise that she was being set at defiance, and swept a threatening glance over the listening bystanders. " There are some things, madame la comtesse," she went on, "that are better heard of last than first." "Why, madame?" " Because those who hear first are apt to be accomplices." The comtesse assumed an air of ingenuous surprise, " But, madame," she said, "when you speak of accomplices, you speak of crimes," " That is possible, madame la comtesse." " The crimes of M, d'Orl^ans, madame ? " " I did not say that," " No, madame — because you never say anything ridiculous," " Do you find assassination ridiculous, madame la comtesse ? " " If it is a question of M, d'Orleans assassinating anybody, I find it very ridiculous. But it would seem, mad:\me, that you imply that the recent fatalities came from the hand of some assassin — by way of poison, perhaps ? " "That remains to be ascertained, madame la comtesse." " I see no difficulty about that, madame la marquise," " Explain yourself, madame la comtesse," "Well, madame, if there are poisoners to be discovered, as you say, all that is necessary is to seek in the right place. As it is perfectly impossible that M. d'Orldans could be concerned in such a crime " " You think that, comtesse ? " " No, madame, I do not think — I know." "Very good, comtesse. Perhaps also you do not think, but know, where is the right place you spoke of," " Not altogether, madame. But I can guess," "Let us hear, then, where you would look for the criminal." "As to that, madame, I may, of course, be wrong. But I should begin by looking amongst those who accuse M. d'Orleans," The comtesse accompanied this thrust with a curtsy, in which madame de Maintenon recognised a direct throwing down of the gauntlet, and the spectators a slap in the face. B ' ilL^iii : I ; ' ! 5 II 380 a Ikent Squire The marquise turned pale with amazement and anger, and foi a moment or two remained speechless. Then she remarked, with a poisonous glare at madame de Valincour, " It appears, madame la comtesse, that M. d'Orl^ans knows how to secure a champion. Whether the champion will secure M. d'Orldans remains to be seen." " Really, that is rather clever of the old woman," said the comtesse to herself. She replied aloud, with a most engaging smile, " Madame, if it should ever be worth my while to secure M. d'Orl^ans or any similar person, I will endeavour to make sure of it by coming to you for lessons. Adieu, madame." Before the marquise could reply, madame de Valincour curtsied herself out of the room. Madame de Maintenon looked vengefully round upon the silent bystanders, and then retreated to her own apartment, leaving the courtiers to ex- patiate in chorus upon the manner in which the comtesse de Valincour had extinguished for ever her prospects of court preferment. Meanwhile, the due d'Orle'ans had set out on his return to Paris. A mile from the barrier of the capital the front axle of his carriage gave way, and brought the vehicle to a standstill in the roadway. One or two persons passed who were unable to render any assistance. Then a carriage, driven by a very tall coachman, came in sight behind the duke's. This proved to be M. de Torcy's. The marquis was also on his way to Paris, and he at once volunteered to convey the duke home, leaving the disabled vehicle to be brought on afterwards. The duke promptly accepted the offer, and the minister's carriage proceeded on its way to the Palais-Royal. The crowding of the thoroughfares and the excitement of the populace seemed to the marquis to be even greater than on the preceding evening. Some of the streets were quite blocked, and the detachments of M. d'Argenson's mounted patrols had quite a difficulty in keeping a way for the traffic. In the neighbourhood of the Palais-Royal the attitude of the mob was menacing and even formidable, and the lieutenant-general of police bad posted a cordon of guards round the approaches to the palace. Groans, yells, and denunciations filled the air, and it was dangerous for any member of the duke's household to be recognised out of doors. For two or three hours in the afternoon the name of a Ikeiit Squire '8i roman," said the a most engaging a the name of M. Humbert, the duke's chief chemical expert, had been yelled through the streets with almost as much energy as that of the duke himself. Every now and then some unlucky passer-by was pointed out as the savant, and nearly murdered in consequence. At last a multitudinous roar was heard in the Rue St. Antoine, coming from the direction of the Bastille. One of the duke's carriages was seen approaching with the horses at full gallop, pursued by a howling mob of over a thousand persons. The carriage was overtaken in the Rue St Honore', close co the Palais-Royal, and the occupant had just been dragged out of it when a squad of mounted guards rode up, and forced their horses among the crowd. The captive, who was really M. Humbert this time, was rescued from his vengeful assailants covered with bruises and with his clothes torn to rags. But before he was escorted by his rescuers towards the gateway of the palace, he insisted upon addressing his foes from the roof of the carriage, and having climbed thereon, he endeavoured to make himself heard above the uproar. It was some time before the spectacle of this scarecrow, gesticulating wildly with his long arms, while the fragments of his clothes streamed in the wind, produced an astonished silence. When he found he was listened to, the savant bawled out, " Gentlemen, you have been good enough to accuse me of all sorts of crimes, and to shout ' k la Bastille ' to me." A noisy assent came from the crowd, and a forest of fists were shaken at the speaker. "Gentlemen," he proceeded, "let me tell you that when you stopped my carriage I had just been to the Bastille to demand to be imprisoned." This statement produced a sudden hush, and everyone listened for what was coming next. "When I presented myself there," went on the savant, " they positively refused to take me in. Thus I have returned. I hope, gentlemen, that you are now satisfied, and I wish you a good afternoon." The idea of a man being refused admission at the Bastille struck the hearers as being rather funny. With the proverbial fickleness of a crowd, a roar of laughter spread in all direccions, and the orator was saluted with a round of derisive cheers as he descended from his rostrum to re-enter the carriage. The guards escorted him as far as the cordon, and the carriage disappeared within the courtyard of the Palais-Royal. In the meantime, the duke himself had been rather less 382 H "Rent Squire Ir Hi m li 1 fortunate. About a quarter of a mile from the palace M. de Torcy's carriage had been stopped by a momentary rush of the crowd in front of the horses. One of the bystanders thrust his head in at the carriage-window, and recognised the duke by the light of a torch near the opposite window. He announced his discovery with a triumphant yell, and a general rush was made for the vehicle. The big coachman whipped up his horses, but before they had gone ten yards their heads were seized, and the coachman was dragged from his seat. The horses, which were already almost unmanageable with the crowd and the uproar, took this opportunity of swerving suddenly towards the side-walk, and overturned the carriage upon two or three shrieking unfortunates who had not time to get out of the way. In a moment the vehicle was covered with rioters, and the door which came uppermost was wrenched open. Then half of the duke's body shot up like a jack-in- the-box, and his sword-arm was seen spitting his assailants in all directions. The coachmpn got among the wheels, and slashed at the crowd with his whip un^^il it broke in pieces. But this defence only lasted a minute. The coachman was felled to the ground, and the duke's sword broke against the body of one of his opponents. In an instant he was seized, hoisted out of the carriage-window, and flung on the ground between the vehicle and the house-wall. Just at this moment the nearest street-door, which belonged to a respectable lodging-house, opened suddenly. A tall man appeared upon the threshold, with a pistol in each hand, and with what looked like the leg of a table tucked under his left arm. Before the group of men who were flinging themselves upon the duke's body could realise what was occurring, two of their number were shot through the heart, and the wooden weapon had descended upon the heads of four others, with a sound as of someone sitting down upon a bandbox. The tall man shouted to some person behind him to drag the duke within doors, and sprang upon the overturned coach with a sweep of his club which sent half a dozen squealing ruffians in a heap into the street beyond. Then he jumped down, got the coachman on his feet, and hurried him into the house before the crowd could rally to the attack, or get near enough to prevent the escape of either rescued or rescuer. A roar of disappointment followed the slamming and barri- cading of the door. A rush was made to break in the panels, and a volley of stones demolished the fanlight. A couple '. I the palace M. de Dmentary rush of )f the bystanders id recognised the ;ite window. He sU, and a general )achman whipped ten yards their dragged from his imanageable with inity of swerving ned the carriage ho had not time icle was covered ost was wrenched ip like a jack-in- ing his assailants the wheels, and broke in pieces, e coachman was broke against the it he was seized, 5 on the ground , which belonged nly. A tall man 1 each hand, and ed under his left iging themselves s occurring, two , and the wooden ^our others, with . bandbox. The to drag the duke ed coach with a quealing ruffians e jumped down, a into the house get near enough uer. « .^■ 'Sprang upon the overturned coach.' -/'a'jc -m. r I* 1 1 ' 1 11 !," !'J I* i ! a IRcnt Squire 383 of i;:inutes afterwards an arm appeared through the opening, a pistol was fired, and two of the crowd fell under the feet of their companions. A fresh howl of fury followed this disaster. Then the nole of the carriage was seized, brought to the door, and used as a battering-ram. Three or four blows sufficed to drive in the two upper panels, but a mass of furniture, which had been rapidly piled behind the door, resiste( fo. the moment the most vigorous efforts of the besiegers Suddenly a murderous hail of brickbats, delivered from the parapet of the roof three stories above, came down upon the surging crowd round the door. Every moment a victim fell, and in his fall he brought down two or three others. The tall man, leaning over the parapet just over the doorway, could be seen hurling down his deadly missiles as fast as he could tear them from the chimney-stack beside him. Nothing could stand against this discharge, and the mob fled yelling until they were beyond the marksman's range, leaving the ground strewn with maimed and disabled victims. At this juncture a company of mounted guards appeared at the upper end of the street, and advanced at a gallop. The mob did not wait to be charged, but melted away in the darkness, and the troopers drew rein around the carriage. Here their attention was attracted by a plaintive appeal for help, which was found tr proceed from M. de Torcy. Thanks to his having tried to open the door of the carriage at the moment it was overturned, he had been caught by the coat- sleeve of his left arm between the vehicle and the curb-stone. He was a good deal bruised by the sudden upset, and his con dition had not been improved by the duke inadvertently standing upon him while combating his assailants through the opposite window. However, when he had been extricated, and the carriage had been righted by the united efforts of the troopers, he expressed his conviction that no bones were broken, and took his seat to await the appearance of the duke, of whose more serious experiences he was not aware. The tall man had left the roof as soon as the mob took to flight, and had descended to the hall. Here he found the master of the house and his wife attending to the due d'Orldans. The latter, plastered with mud from head to foot, was ^sitting ^ in a chair and ruefully contemplating his coat, which had been torn right up the back, and was being held up in two pieces by the coachman. The latter was in very little better plight, as his own coat and waistcoat were hanging 384 H mcnt SciiUrc ik ' ^ ill I !l i j iW. m^nbbons. and his head was bleeding from the blow of dowmMtt'^-'rh^^ duke was saying, as the tall man came downstairs These people have certainly parted my carmen s amongst them. I think, madame. I will ask you to ^be good enough o put a couple of stitches across the backVthat telfn7;'h''''V"^^'^^'" ^,^'" J«'" my companion As you as wd, t nw own lT?u' ' "'", '''''^' '° ' ^^^'^ ^is thanks" Irn v A 1 ^ "' i^ ^^^ gentleman who so opporlunelJ cracked the crowns of that c.rm///e on the doorstip^ ^ Ihis IS he, monsieur," said the host, pointing to the tall man. The latter came forward, and remarked. "« '° ''^^ ^"" adventre." '"^ '"^ "'°"''''"' '' '° ^'"'^ '^^ ^^'°"^ ^^^ his "Thanks to you, monsieur. I should have been a dead man by this time but for your very d pr.J>os sally. May I ask to whom I am indebted for so signal a service ? '' ^ Monsieur it is of no consequence. I am glad I was in time to be of use. But you cannot go out in £se rijl h .s bitterly cold, even in a carriage. I think I cm finfvn a coat^ monsieur, if you will do^me the honour to Sse ,'" Without waiting for a reply, the tall man went "nto the te'SStherke'^^-^^^ '''' ^ ''^'^ overcoat,\vrh t "What .s big enough for me will probably be bis enough o/aS "™'""'' he said, "and .hi is a 'good »^n" sort ':t£ wf rparir""" "^ ^'"'-^' ^°"'>"'*' »~ -^ he'la^d""a°ndf';gir "'"' .''^'"'■'ned at once, monsieur," ne said, and I thank you again for your timely help I onlv .nThe°street "l^'TW^"'- "^-ntiments o?^ur f ient "notht bhhS°du"'dti"s^'™''''' ''^'- ' ^"^ -'-"'" boiving" "'^ ™"""''' ™°™''fe™"'-." --eplied the tall man, quicU^**"' "'''' """ """• "■™=i^'"-f" -"sked the duke an^e^tilh teT:?.r';^„f,"..E"S'*™"'^ ™"!. "f -^f -t- The duke walked out with a very thoughtful air, and found a Ikent Squire 385 om the blow of le worse for his M. de Torcy seated in the carriage and rubbing h's contusions m a lugubrious manner. M. d'Orldans inspected his fellow- sufferer for a moment, and then got into the carriage. '' Peste! my dear marquis," said he, "it is quite evident from your appearance that if you are not the rose, you have been near the rose. I heartily deplore the results of your courtesy in offering me a lift, I assure you." "There is no great mischief done," replied the marquis dismally. " That is lucky, for your footsteps are not exactly those of a fairy, M. le due." " Heavens ! my dear marquis, was it you I was standing on ? I thought It was one of the cushions. Why did you not say something ? " ' " Really, M. le due, I found it quite impossible to be eloquent and serve as a pedestal at the same time." "It is shocking, and I shall never forgive myself. I was so busy that I am afraid I jumped about a little." " A little ! " groaned the marquis. " However, M. le due It might have been worse for both of us. How did you fare after you were lifted off my unfortunate carcase ? " "I can tell you that as we go along, my dear marquis," said the duke. Then, turning to the guards, he added, Gentlemen, if your duty does not call you ^'sewhere. will you kindly escort M. de Torcy and myself to the ais-Royal ? " \Ve were only awaiting your orders, M. 1. jut," replied the officer in command. " But here comes M. d'Argenson " At this moment a horsemnn galloped up to the group, and checked his horse at the amagc-door. It was the lieutenant- general of police. "M. le due," he said hastily, "it is only a moment ago I heard of this outrage." ° "We are quits for some mud and bruises, my dear dArgenson," said the duke. "Let us be off. If you can doir ^o"P '° '^""'^ ^^""^ ^'*^ "^e, please oblige me by "With pleasure, if I see things are looking quieter." replied the leutenant-general of police, giving the guards the signal Ro af ^ carnage drove away tovvards the Palais- The inobs near the palace had, in the meantime, been dis- persed by the patrols, and the streets had regained their 't'LT^' 4"i«uae. At liie entrance M. d'Argenson "dismounted, and the two others got out of the carriage. " Let your coachman come inside, marquis," said the duke. 25 li" '> i< h m u .litt .. 1.- 386 H Ikeut Squire "He behaved like a paladin, and we must make him as comfortable as we can." "Get down, Anatole," said the marquis, as some grooms ran forward to take charge of the equipage. The coach- man got off his box, and came down with his rags fluttermg in the wind. . "Your man is about as well dressed as myself, marquis, observed the duke. " He is such a Goliath that I doubt if we can find him a coat he can squeeze into, unless it is this one I am wearing. It is a mile too big for me, and he had better try it." The duke was assisted off with his borrowed overcoat, and the garment was handed to the coachman, who was trembling with cold. He was just slipping his arm into the sleeve, when he suddenly stopped, stared at the coat, and then approached de Torcy. " A thousand pardons, M. le marquis," he whispered, " but this is my own coat." " What do you mean, Anatole ? " asked the marquis. " It is my own coat — or rather, it is the coat M. le marquis did me the honour to buy of me a couple of months ago or more." " Impossible ! " cried the marquis. " With all respect to M. le marquis, it is certainly that one. I know it by half a dozen things." " What is all that ? " asked the duke. " Nothing— nothing," said the marquis hastily. "We are detaining you, M. le due — let us go in." " Come, then, gentlemen," said the duke, signing to the grooms to attend to the coachman, and leading the way to his private rooms. In the corridor the party were met by the marquis de Simiane, the duke's first gentleman of the bedchamber and confidential secretary. " M. le due," said this gentleman, " a courier has just arrived from Marly with a letter from his majesty. M. do Canillac, a'.o, is waiting to see you in your cabinet." The marquis de Canillac was an old friend both of the duke and of his mother, the princess Palatine, and was, in conse- quence, looked severely askance upon at Versailles. The duke .. — _4. ^^ ..rjfV. l-n'c? o/-\fpr«ininno into hie rnliinpt whpra thev found M. de Canillac. The latter was amazed at the spectacle presented by the duke, and in a lesser degree by M. de Torcy, and expressed a good deal of alarm when he learned the cause ^'% must make him as IS, as some grooms lipage. The coach- th his rags fluttering as myself, marquis," liath that I doubt if into, unless it is this ; for me, and he had borrowed overcoat, coachman, who v;as ing his arm into the sd at the coat, and • he whispered, " but 1 the marquis. e coat M. le marquis pie of months ago or is certainly that one. s hastily. "We are duke, signing to the eading the way to his : by the marquis dc the bedchamber and " a courier has just his majesty. M. de ur cabinet." lend both of the duke e, and was, in conse- Versailles. The duke I cabinet where they mazed at the spectacle egree by M. de Torcy, 1 he learned the cause a Tkent Squire 387 ?hi!^\' ^"^ ^""^^^^ '^^^^'" <^0"btfully at de Torcy (who was at this ,me quite mistakenly supposed to be rather of the Mamtenon party), and remarked; ^ This IS a dangerous state of things, M. le due " " Hp wm "'kF^''""^ ^°J; ^^' "^^ '^^^'■^y'" ^^P'i'^d the duke, laughing He wil be accused of holding a candle to the devil 3 getting his fingers burnt for his pains But, on the whole k prume^Tha7ata;r '' TY '^^ ^°"^^ ^^ '^ -- hese centleS nf tf ''"'^'' ^^ '\'"'' ^'"^"^ '^^ attentions of - T If, .rH Ak . ^^ pavement when I am in the Bastille " " It s ?i" reoor tthn. "• "^ ""^, ^'''''' ''" ^'^ ^e CanHlac. ther "is no truth in it.' ""''' "' ''"• ' ^^P^' ^^- '' d^^' that "In what ? •' asked the duke. I'That you have asked for a /eUre de cachet." has tengr„t°ed.'"S:;eT,s'»" "^ ^•^""'^^' "•" ""' -^-' "1 his IS nothing at all," he said. What do you mean } " "It is not signed." " Nonsense ! " "Look for yourself." glanceraTM'de°c:;;reVa'^i'tr Th^f' '"' T »' ^ "MON CoLLilN, vous aura ar^emise ?ous ave." "''°" "'^ qu'aussitot q„ 'elle de la Bastile, pour y'res?er iuS,^'/ ' '''f'l ^" '"°" ^^^teau T^L.^ \^r ' °" ^°"^'"' 6" sa sainte garde EcRiT A Versailles !e g A/ars, 1712." ^ "That is curious," remarked the duke «' T fV,.-«i m^eri. before we go any further, l\ld he. J il^^^f"^]^; CAav-iiy liuw matters stand" "" ' '-^-Huw int":ie"J";vrthe'k?» ZTJ' "'^ ^'1' 'o Marly and his de Canillae said ,,ro5i;,"'' "' '°°" ^' ''' ^ad finished, M. '! i l< f 388 B "Rent Squire "M. le due, whether you ask my opinion or not, I say you ought to ignore this document entirely. You have done everything in your power to secure a full inquiry, and the whole world knows it — or will know it by to-morrow morning. If people choose to send you pieces of waste paper, it is their affair and not yours. When they are ready to put you in the Bastille, let them set about it properly. Till they do, I recommend you to leave things alone. What do you say, gentlemen ? " " I am absolutely of your opinion," said d'Argenson ; " and, speaking for myself, I should refuse to take M. le due to the Bastille, either with or without this piece of paper, which de Bernaville would only laugh at." "You and de Canillac and I are old friends, my dear d'Argenson," replied the duke, " and, therefore, I am bound to assume that you are a little prejudiced. I have not the honour of being on quite such intimate terms with M. de Torcy, and I shall esteem it a favour if he cares to express an opinion." "M. le due," returned the marquis, "I say what M. de Canillac says, and with all the emphasis at my disposal. These calumnies must be met out of doors, not behind the walls of a prison. Moreover, M. le due, you owe something to your family and the nation, as well as to yourself." The duke ruminated for a few moments, and said finally, "Gentlemen, I confess that these attacks have hit me very hard, all the more because I had a deep attachment to M. de Bourgogne and his wife and child. Thus my impulse was, and is still, to endeavour to force the hands of my slanderers. But I am not such a fool as to disregard the judgment of three men of honour and experience, all speaking from different points of view, who tell me I am wrong. I will defer to your advice, gentlemen, and let matters stand— at all events, for the present. And now to supper, as soon as we are fit to be seen." The marquis de Simiane withdrew to give the duke's orders, while the others went into the dressing-room. The duke went on to de Torcy, •' Do you know, marquis, that that Englishman addressed me as ' monseigneur ' when he learnt who I was ? " " A very natural mistake," replied the marquis. "That is not the point, marquis. It reminded me all at once of something that happened several years ago." " What was that ? " asked d'Argenson. ill )inion or not, I say ly. You have done "uU inquiry, and the to-morrow morning, if waste paper, it is re ready to put you perly. Till they do, What do you say, I d'Argenson ; " and, tke M. le due to the ce of paper, which Id friends, my dear sfore, I am bound to I. I have not the terms with M. de he cares to express ' I say what M. de my disposal. These )t behind the walls owe something to yourself." , and said finally, tacks have hit me deep attachment to Thus my impulse the hands of my IS to disregard the irience, all speaking :ie I am wrong. I let matters stand — to supper, as soon e the duke's orders, ;-room. The duke jlishman addressed '. was ? " rquis. eminded me all at lars ago." i'3 a Tkcnt Squire 389 " I am not going to tell you— just yet. But I sav to all of you that whereas the circumstance in Vstion onlyUneaed ^ me cunous and unaccountable at the time, U now Ses me as most remarkab e. I give vou mv wnrH fLl- -^ v becomes marvellous, as it ma^doTwiZeT you aU /boutT "Wait, and you may see," reolied the dulip "T„ .k. meantime, there is one thing i sho^uld certainty |fke to knot M^l t1^^ """' "' "^ P'^^^^'" '" <»"■ recent adventure"' " That is it ! " he ejaculated. "What? "asked the duke. reasons for keeping his incogSko" ^°°^ '""^ ^"^^^^"^^^^ " Certamly," replied the duke ;; The same with you, M. d'Argenson ? " ^a/'^.^Wj,^" replied the lieutenant-general of police .1 ^^e equally discreet," added de CanUlac. ^ ^• Dorn..,tou;''"' ^^ '' ^"'' '' '' ^ ^^"^^^ M. Randolph whom^"''" ^'''''""'^ ^'^^g^--". "why, the man and gave it to you. as I daresay fourZCl-^'' °' ' "^^' "M le duc-'renH.^H'^S^^J"^ °^"" '^'''" ^^'^ '^^ ^^^e. -^orcv'to J vnn ff f^ d'Argenson, -you must get M. de CHAPTER XLVII THE ABb6 GAULTIER IS THE RECIPIENT OF A LITTLE CONFIDENCE Jubf is t'^; ctrnWrfn'Tfr ',° *<= -- turning the overcoat ^o^^^gorrl^t*! 'nd ^o'^nt^rhr. r; : "r:| ! \ 1 i 5 It < ! II ' il • ^ * i liij 390 a meat Squire that individual came to run the risk of showing himself in Paris. But the landlord of the lodging-house met him with the intelligence that the Englishman, as he was called for want of a more definite appellation, had paid his reckoning and departed at dawn for some unknown destination, without leaving any message behind him. M. ]e To'-cy was a good deal vexed at missing the duke's preserver, and asked several questions, in the hope of getting a clue to his whereabouts. But the host could tell nothing beyond the fact that his lodger, whose stay in the capital had only lasted a couple of days, had spoken of leaving France forthwith. " Really," said the marquis to himself, as he drove away to Versailles, " these Englishmen seem to come off very badly when they do us a service. Here is M. Dorrington saving the life of a prince of the blood, and the only thanks he gets is to be robbed of his overcoat. On his previous visit he does his best to save us from an invasion, and we clap him in the Bastille for seventeen years. M. Gwynett brings us the ransom of the monarchy, and we give him a ship, which somebody sends to the bottom of the sea. Next he helps us to convey part of cur treasure to Paris, and just misses being burnt alive. Then he takes a letter to England for us, and gets hung. And every time these gentlemen have put them- selves out of the way, merely to be obliging. No wonder the rest of the world prefers to do nothing for nothing." A couple of days afterwards, as the marquis had just finished breakfast, he was told that the abbd Gaultier was waiting to see him. " Something is wrong, that is certain," he muttered discon- tentedly, as he went to his cabinet. "Tnis fellow is too comfortable in London to come over for a trifle. It is the renunciation, without doubt." The marquis proved to be correct. The death of the ' petit dauphin,' and the illness of the due d'Anjou (whose life had never been considered to be worth a week's purchase since he had been born), had produced the greatest consternation amongst the English ministers, and the abbe had been de- spatched in hot haste to give M. de Torcy a private warning of the intention of the government. This was to make a formal demand for the immediate renunciation by king Philippe of Spam, for himself and his posterity, of his rights of succession to the throne of France, as an indispensable condition of any further negotiations for peace. The abba's informal visit was a Ikent Squire 39, to enable the French king and his ministers to anticipate this demand by putting at once the requisite pressure on the king of Spam, and thus save time in the more formal routine of diplomacy. 'wuuuc ui The marquis, who knew Louis XIV. better than most people, saw at once the necessity of a little hedging, and '^»1v'?^?.'uT¥"r ^^"''•^'' h'-id explained his errand, ^ M. labbtS I will not fail to lay lord Oxford's views before that'^Ji'tlf/"'- ^'-K l^''?'u'''' ^^"^^ ^"^^' I ^-^' point out Snl ?hL n P;"'°" .^°'^ °^ ^' ^^J^^^y ^"d of the king of bpain, this question of a renunciation presents grave difficulties Our jurists are unanimously agreed that, whatever renuncia on a royal heir may make of his own rights in his own person he hr°' r k' ^t^^^P^^J^dice the rights of his posterky? w^lich belong to them by descent and are inalienable." year^prst'^'^o^S GalS'^ P""''"' ^'^ ^^"""-^'^ ^^^^ knJw'thTS yJv 'f '^.'^ '^'' P^'^'^'^y ^^"' ^"d he also hrand'L^?arthef.'''- '^^^ '^^ ^^^^^'^^ ^ ^^ - ^^ey suited . "I presume," he replied, "that his majesty's act onlv indicated his entire willingness that the two ™ns should no? be worn by the same person. He cannot make any demand upon a foreign monarch that would destroy the very basTs of andrpl""""^"^^' "'"'^ '' ^^^^ ^^^^-'^^ inheScfpure " It appears then, M. le marquis, that lord Oxford has been sSfnV?''""''"''''' ' '"" ''""'' ' complet mirunde" "Patience my dear M. Gaultier. It is not his most Chris lan majesty, but his grandson, whose renunciit on k?n question and that makes all the diWnS. ^am bound o tell you that we are not in a position to do anything more than make representations at the Escurial. If lord oK fh nt^ we can do what we like there, let him SdreVs Wmsd to madame des Ursins and he will find out his iStake " be JLt vr^iSS^sa^^^^^^^ -^^^ - ^-^ there,_and as he is not to be in the Tow ro.,pfri^" -V - why,^i,am afraid this renunciation willlJerath;" alumtin-g: " Then I am to tell lord Oxford, on the part of his majesty, r; h I V i' t 392 a Ikcnt Squire ■'i ■ ! 1 ! 1; ■■* Ml i 1 i i ' ! ■"( : h;. '^i }• 1 that we shall get along faster if the duke is restored to his command ? " " Heavens ! my dear M. Gaultier, do not misunderstand me. I only wish to prepare you for delays over which we can exercise no control — that is, if lord Oxford finds this renunci- ation a sine gtid non. The Cortes must consent, in order that it should have even the semblance of validity — and even their consent could hardly bind a descendant of king Philippe's." "If the English ministry has the king of Spain's renunciation, it will make very little account of the Cortes, M. le marquis. As to the king's descendants, it will be time enough to talk about them when they put in a claim. The point at present is, that the events of any twenty-four hours may make Philippe V. king of France." " That is a deplorable fact, M. I'abbd." " Why deplorable, M. le marquis ? " " For the best of reasons, M. I'abbd. You, as a Frenchman, can guess what would happen if France were attempted to be governed from Madrid. On the other hand, we know already, without guessing, what would happen if Spain were attempted to be governed from Paris. If you doubt it, ask madame la comtesse, your sister." "I do not contradict you, M. le marquis. But all that is your affair and not lord Oxford's. He has parliament to deal with, and the public behind parliament. At present the current is on the point of running towards the Whigs again. Prince Eugene is enormously popular in London, and there is no saying how things will turn out." The marquis thought iie Fleur de Lys, and decided that the abbd was probabl) a good deal nearer the truth than he suspected. " Rest assured, M. I'abb^," he replied, " that his majesty will use every means at his disposal to carry out his declara- tion to the English government. When may \.e expect to hear officially from lord Oxford on this matter?" " It will be impossible, M. le marquis, to delay the formal representation longer than a week or ten days. I start for London again to-day." " The affair will be in your hands, M. I'abbd ? " " I believe so, M. le marquis. After my next interview with you I go straight from here to Utrecht. I may say that the instructions I shall carry to the British plenipotentiaries will depend upon the attitude of his majesty in this matter." After a little further conversation the abbd rose to take H IRent Squire 393 i is restored to his his leave, mentioning that he wished to see his sister at Marly before returning to London. The marquis bade him a polite adieu, expressing a hope that their next meeting might prove entirely satisfactory, and the abb^ went off. " It is perfectly amazing," muttered the marquis to himself, as soon as he was alone, "to think of this animal being pitchforked into such aiffairs. He goes about now as if he were d'Harcourt or Porto-Carero. And the mischief of it is that he has got hold of quite the right end of the stick." Meanwhile, the abb^, who was inwardly much concerned at the new hitch in the peace negotiations, made his way to Marly. The comtesse de Valincour was out driving with her friend the duchesse de Noailles, who had called at the chateau, and the abb^ heard a good deal of gossip about recent events while he was waiting. He was equally dis- appointed, alarmed, and irritated at what he heard, and he entered his sister's room, when she returned, with a temper the reverse of amiable. The comtesse gave him an affectionate greeting, which he received very much after the fashion of the proverbial bear with a sore head. "You do not see:Ti quite well, dear Armand," said the comtesse. " What is the matter ? are things not going well ? " "Damnably," growled the abbd " Tell me all about it," said the comtesse, with solicitude. " I thought you were in a pretty good groove." "The groove is not bad," replied the abbd. "But it is empty. It is true lord Oxford treats me like a brother, but it is what they call over there a younger brother. I get a good deal of patting on the back, and plenty of stuffing of the stomach. But nobody seems to think of my pocket. Between ourselves, other people are finding the same thing about lord Oxford— lady Masham amongst them. It would have been better if I had attached myself to M. St. John. I have a suspicion that he is the better horse to back of the two." " But you are well put forward. It ought to mean something some time, if not now." "Everything hangs on the peace, and the peace hangs fire. These deaths have been the very deuce. Unless we can get the king of Spain to renounce the French succession, WP shall H^lvp <-Vio \TTnf .-Qc-i.j-n''/^ '-^ -5 i-'^V- T" - ■» nowhere." "I am sorry to hear that. Nevertheless, in another way, these deaths you speak of may end in your advantage," 394 a "Rent Sduire iH' Mi ' 1 ( ■ii It m m If-H' "/»«/f / my dear sister, it will be very strange if they do- thanks to you, It appears." ^ " To me ? " "ar/^j Judging from the cackle of the folks here, you have been busy cuttmg your throat from ear to ear. You mav perhaps claim the right to do that, if it amuses you. But, unfortunately, I see no use in it for me-and I see a good many disadvantages." ^ The comtesse settled herself in her chair and looked at her Drother with a composed countenance. " Ah ! " she remarked. " And what have you heard ? " h.H.r f PP'^""'' ^^*d the abb^, " that, for want of something better to do, you have made an enemy of la Scarron, who IS everything and have tried to make a friend of the due ^rleans, who is a good deal worse than nothing." ^ Probably ,t looks a little like that," said the comtesse. CO r^^i- ,"^u°'^ '? ^^"''" P'-oceeded the abb^, "and he IT' i^r ^^'"'Lthat whatever sort of cloud the duke was unde? while M. de Bourgogne and the dauphine were alive, he will be simply in outer darkness now they are dead. If he is not, It will not be the fault of madame de Maintenon and M. du Maine, at all events." ^ " M. Dubois is right, without doubt." "Sangdieu/ then what demon possessed you to hook yourself on to the most useless person in France? The Slier- '* " ^^""^ '' '' ""'"'"'^ impossible to undo the ;; How would you propose to undo it, my dear Armand ?» ar.Jr.%^ '' T^l^^. ^Z '^' ^ '"PP°'^' ^^^ for me to ask the good offices of M de Torcy and M. de Berwick to smooth matters for you with la Scarron. For the next fortnight, at all events, I sha 1 be a person who will be listened to. After tha the deuce only knows what can be done " The comtesse smiled a little at her brother, and replied. ^./^ !, ^Z .""^^'•^^'^^ the task of reinstating me in madame de Maintenon's good graces, dear Armand, let us go thoroughly into matters. It would be well for oir ideas Te '".Jt- P" '-Vherefore, if you have any [rons in the fire, and how they are heating. After that, I will say some- thing on my own account." ^ The abb^ looked doubtfully at madame de Valincour He T- '" ': u^'^'u-'^f '^'^■*'P^"S his own counsel about his own affairs, and had hitherto said nothing whatever to his sister or anyone else in regard to certain of his recent enterprises trange if they do — and looked at her a IRent Squire 395 Moreover, two of them, the attempted robberies of the treasure-waggon and of madame de Melfort's letter, had turned out deplorable failures, and represented nothing but a minus quantity. .,^^^^^^^^^^^y I have nothing to report," he remarked finally. Two or three iikely eggs have addled. There was an affair of an English heiress, which promised well, but latterly it has stood still." " Who and what is this heiress ? " asked the comtesse. "A certain mademoiselle Dorrington," replied the abb^ " There is an estate in Devonshire." " Is she anything but an income ? Young or pretty ? " This question rather embarrassed the abb^. His passion for Muriel had been from the beginning a fairly disinterested one, owmg almost everything to her beauty and character, and little or nothing to her prospective wealth. It was, there- fore, quite a creditable emotion, and he was consequently somewhat ashamed of owning to it. "She is not yet out of the legal minority, I believe," he replied. " As to appearance, one must not be too particular when a comfortable rent-roll is in question. The real trouble has been that there was a ^ancS in the way— a man named Gwynett. This name represented nothing to the comtesse, its owner having been introduced to her as the chevalier de Starhembere So she asked, °' " Why do you say, ' was in the way ' ? " " Because he is not in the way now, I imagine." "How is that?" ^ The abbe gave the required details, but omitted all refer- ence to his connection with Gwynett's adventures in France. His account of the scene at the 'Crown and Anchor' took the fancy of the comtesse a little, and she remarked ap- provingly, ^ " Really, that was very well managed, my dear Armand." Ihen she added, with a shrug of the shoulders, "As to the rest of the story, I have more than once pointed ?"1 .J°" ^ ^^ '^ y^" '"'''^ "P°" ^^'^'"g brandy, you must take the consequences of the brandy." fK " \i ^ ""a'^ '"''7°"' ^^*"g' "^y ^e^*" Yvonne," observed the abbe, reflectively. " that sfnre tha^ ^.o^.,^^^ t ^ " absolutely lost my relish for it." " I wish I could expect that state of things to last," said the comtesse, with a good deal of fervour. ,;J f ; *p| 396 a fkcnt Squire bukS '"To'l^p't'l^ sentiment," observed the abb6 re- Dukingly. lo seek to deprive others of enjoyments vou '« Oh iTv " '" '^''' '' ^°"*^^^y ^° ^" systems of Ss."' wa^^a^I^n^Pr- S-^^^^^^^^^^ -^ ?•- -P, chairs, ^^bVrfmars^obeTp" ^"^ '^ ^^ ^"^ think%^ormTy tell'Jou^Sf/T'?''""^^^! "\' '^' "^y ^^^^ ^^°""e. I should tell you that I lay under that window in a heavy rain for an hour or so before I regained my senses. Then I v"oke ud with a sort of ague about me, and I have never been the spme x^an since. I have done my best to recover ny taste for the bottle, but it is of no u e-so far, at all eve Jt^^ St 11 I have not given up hope yet " cvenis. atiu, her^brothe";'^>h r""^'''"^ ^°' ^ ™°™^"*' ^"^ then looked at her brother with a piercing intent ness of gaze. Armand, she said suddenly, « I wish you to understand that your utterly imbecile habit of drinking may nrove an leTroS'tSt"?'' ^^ "V'" ;° «^y ^'^-^ l' ' i'the least possible that, for the sake of great results to you, as well confideT?"' '°" ''" "^^"^^^ ^^ ^^^°-^ - safJpei.on to -^s'^you pu^t!''^ '"^^'''' '^"''''^'"S serious, my dear Yvonne " Serious is not the word for it. For what I have in view discretion is so vital that all the risks of your IgnorS blundering into a line of action detrimental t^my plans a e better worth running than the risks of your knowfng how to help me— and then blabbing." «."uwing now to ;;it appears, then, that I may interfere with you unwittingly? " yi am afraid you are certain to do so. I canno exnect " wtt^fthat?'" " ^^^^^--whatl tell youTthisTe!^' "To leave my affairs alone. Any influence you may wish I mere ^LtTlr/L? 'n"^'^"^ ^' ^^-^-''^" ^-'- ^« a mere waste of time. Do you suppose for a moment that I should put myself in her black books without an obTec"? " . I confess that did not occur to me," said the abbd « It IS true, as you say, that being in the dark, I may easily spike interVsTs-I s^Dokp' n"f /ncV"^ '^"^ ""^ *^^ mterests-immense imeresis-— 1 spoke of just now, to engage not to ruin everv thing by getting drunk again ? " ^^^^^ d then looked at my dear Yvonne your affair, it a Ikent Squire 397 "At present, my dear Yvonne, I have not the slightest objection — if it will be any satisfaction to you." " My dear Armand, is there any possible oath or adjuration that you would consider absolutely binding upon your con- science — if you have a conscience ? " The abbd looked vacantly at the ceiling for some seconds, apparently searching in his memory or imagination for a formula that would meet his sister's requirements. Not being successful, he remarked, after a pause, " Really, my dear Yvonne, I cannot say that such a thing occurs to me at the moment. But I will do my best to meet your wishes, if you will kindly state them." ** My wish — if you can make it possible — is to confide in you, with the double object of preventing you spoiling my game for want of knowing what it is, and of enabling you to assist me when opportunity offers. In fact, I think you could take a useful part, if I pointed it out to you." " I shall be happy to consign myself to eternal perdition if I violate your confidence," remarked the abb^ obligingly. " I do not see that that will alter your prospects very much," said the comtesse. " I should prefer something quite different." " For instance ? " " I should like you to pardon me beforehand, in case I found you were on the point of betraying me, and I had consequently to put you out of the way " " Sangdieu ! " ejaculated the abb^. " Although, as you know, I am very fond of you, dear Armand." The abb(5 scratched his chin reflectively, and then observed, '• But this is serious, my dear Yvonne." " I have been saying so the last half-hour," replied the comtesse. •* On the whole, I am satisfied with my suggestion, if you are." The a.hh6 considered the matter in its various aspects, and finally decided that discretion was not an unreasonable price to pay for information which began to appear desirable in a high degree. " It is a bargain," he said. " You fully understand ? " ^^ Diabk! you make it plain enough, my dear Yvonne." The comtesse came and knelt down by the abbd's side. " Kiss me, brother," she said. *• Certainly," assented the abb^. suiting the action to the word. " But why ? " 398 ill I, / a Ikcnt 'Squire H i I 1 ^ d i t mt comiesse, rising and goinR back to her seat. 7n! nnnl^'"'"' "^ ''"^' '^"'^^'''' ''^* ^^is picce of forethought. s.id ^T y°" ^""^^^'y '""^^ '» ^^"-"est, my sister!" he lorl^'' TuTT ""^"^ u° '^ ^^^'^ ^"d t"^"^'d the key in the me't^t'CS'^^",'/™'?^^ i^^ ^^'^^^' "^hat when we '« Aw f f 'n ^°'' ^'°" ^ ^^^ ^^''■t^in ambitions?" ^^ C^r/^j, I recollect very well." '" T 'Tnn^^^'r } ^'"'''^ '"'''^^ P'^g'^"'^ ^°^^^^s attaining them " .nvl- ^ ^^"^^[^ y'^"' ""y ^^^' Yvonne. Am I to know anything more about these said ambitions?" Ihat is what I am about to explain to you." I am all attention." "G^d' rd thVrn's r-'^^^"^^ ^^^ ^^'^^ ^^^--" wh^m^d^uyc" "^'^ ^'""^' °^ ^^^^ ^^^ '^--' - rule, ;; Have you chosen the ruler, whom you are going to rule ? " There is no question of choice, becai'.se there fs onTv oL person who fulfils the necessary conditions " ^ """^ "And that is ?" " M. d'Orl^ans." succJssfoV \uf h.' '"'''^- ^tJ'r^^' ^' ''^ "°t -^ry near the ^:'^'S^:^ :^:,\X ^^-^ o. . .onth ago. '^YouS'f.r^K^'^ "/°^^ °"^ °^^^r «^tin dress. The nhK i f ^r''? chance?" she asked placidly. 1 he abbd looked a little surprised favour^" he' sS ''"' ' P-vidential interposition in your r. "^i°"/T "°' ""^'y ^'''■^''^ '" alternatives, my good Armand " remarked the comtesse. "Try again" "X feooa Armand, *' Really, I am at a loss." " Think, Armand, for a moment Tf f-h^ t;«,^ u j j- j ^^ M. de Bourgogne, of course." "Yes— and M. dc Bourgogne is dead, sons would have succeeded. Who would regent during the little king's minority?" Thus one of his then have been B Ikcut Squire 399 II The duchesse de Bourgogne, without doubt." " Yes— and the duchesse de Bourgogne is dead. Who will be regent now, if things take the usual cours • ? " A "J''-^.^"'^ ^"".^"r- S"t everybody knows that madame ae Maintenon will have something to say about that " "Never mind that just now. If the due de Berri were dead, who would then be entitled to the regency ? " "M. d'Orleans, of course. But it happens that M. de Berri is not ddd, and if there is one thing more likely than another, it is that M. de Berri will be king instead of regent. ima i^°»' "^'^ "^^^'" ^'''*' ^" '^'''^'' ^^^ ""'^"' ^ ^^°"'^ , '' '^^Tu 'f P,^''^^cfly true, so far as it goes. But does it seem you that there is nothing hut chance in events which have brought M. d'Orleans w=,;nn c ie life of the regency and withm two lives of the r own ? ' '^h^^^y, and in fht'' 'f^^^'i T ""'^ °' ' '■' ^'"^ •• '''^° ^^^"se M. d'Orldans Ihe reverse.'' '"'P'^''' '"'"' ^"' ^ '''°"«^' '' ^^^ ^^^^^ly the' Jl'n in^l^if ^""^ ^^^ ""^ "^""'^ ^° ^° ^'^^ '^"^'^ «leaths than tne man in the moon. "/Vx/./ that is a good deal to suy, and with such con- fll aboutT""" "^"^'^^^ ^^"'^ ^'1^^^°^^ >°" '^"'^^ II Anyone but you probably would." " But — do you know all about it?" II I ought to know, certainly." " You know who is concerned in the affair ? - Yes." II Someone who has had a hand in these deaths ? " Exactly." The abb^ raised his eyebrows. ''That is rather an awkward thin- to know » he said Almost as awkward as making a mistake about it." It is impossible to make a mistake " " Why impossible ? " " Ask yourself." a iTtSe l^ari ^""^''^ '"'^'' "'"'"*' ""^ *^^" ^"ddenly gave rathe^''pa1e^°'^ ' " ^' ^^^^^^^^^ed, from force of habit, turning " j''^"> ^o you begin to understand?" Ihe abb^ looked apprehensively at the door Then he craned his neck forward, and asked in a whisper I i 400 Vk III ll ^11 J a tkcnt Squire " It was you, Yvonne ? " "I." There was a dead silence. The abbd trembled a little and brought out his handkerchief to wipe his forehead. The comtesse contemplated him with a serene air. Finally he remarked, in a subdued voice, " This takes me a little by surprise, I confess. But why the due de Bretagne ? If you want a long regency, he was the tougher of the two." "That was a most unlucky contretemps. It should have been M. de Berri. But one cannot guard against everything " " I should like to hear the details," said the abb6. "It is quite simple," replied the comtesse. "You see I got a few requisites at Madrid, intending them for the queen, but never had the chance of using them. When we were expelled from Spain, I decided at once on th** next programme, and manoeuvred until I secured the appoint- ment at Marly. There was no great difficulty about that, as madame de Bourgogne was glad to have someone who had lived with her sister. I always carried what was necessary about with me, so as to be ready for an opportunity. You heard of the dauphine's missing snuflF-box?" "Of course," "That was my first real chance. I put a little snuff of my own in the box, before handing it to madame la dauphine. By good luck, it answered for monseigneur as well." " But what about the disappearance of the box ? " " That is easily explained. The dauphine, as you doubtless heard, put it away in her cabinet, which no one was allowed to enter. But at night she told madame de Levi to fetch it for her, saying that I could point out which box it was Naturally I took care to walk in first, and put it in my pocket under the nose of madame de Levi, who is very short-sighted. Afterwards I threw it into one of the ponds." The abbd drew a deep breath. " That was a near thing," he said. '•Yes. It would have been awkward if the box had been found, and afterwards tested. Luckily, four gentlemen of the court had taken pinches from it just before it was placed in my hands. That put them off the scent entirely." " And the due de Bretagne ? " " That was pure misadventure. M. de Berri was at Versaillps the day of the '^auphine's death, and asked for some lemonade^ There was no one at hand to fetch it but myself, so I could € trembled a little, his forehead. The Finally he ne air. confess. But why ng regency, he was s. It should have against everything." the abb6. itesse. "You see, :ling them for the ; them. When we once on th** next ;ured the appoint- fficulty about that, lave someone who what was necessary opportunity. You ?" Jt a little snuff of idame la dauphine. r as well." ;box?" ;, as you doubtless 3 one was allowed ie Levi to fetch it ifhich box it was. nd put it in my .evi, who is very e of the ponds." :he box had been Dur gentlemen of fore it was placed ntirely." ri was at Versailles >r some lemonade, nyself, so I could a itent Squire 401 fo'hL^"* T.'^'^PJ''" i^o 0^ something into it before giving it to him. Then he fane ed it would create arM.tv J^a changed his mind. Just as mytck was turned Velttle &he%Tas: ^r.r%""'r'^"^ ^^ Ventadour t'd d lum me glass, i was extremely sorry when I nohV*»H ,> k.,* " Thf hh7 '°°^'' '"^P'd™' in hJd"„Sfered» "' """ remarked, " * "'"''" "'" ""' ""'^"'e. '"d then "The misfortune is that if this rickety due d'Aniou survive, the king, we may have his uncle from Madrid dropobsta for the r^ency. even if the succession is waived." '^'^^ " I ^rre^o^u^ttVd^^ jftht^ '- '^ ^-■- -^ ine comtesse put her hand in her nort*»f a«^ u. a letter, which she handed to the abb/ ' '"^ "'"S''* °"' The abbi read,"'^ '"^^''' something to you," she said. " Madame, G. Dubois." a.nI|^^a^n7aCnilSft^„-^,r<^ « -'^ ^'— h "BeSd,;,^mrdra"rv^7nr;^Tri':ni!;: ii y^i; . nXel'^aX'y'^^peS ht^aPH ^f- XTnf ■sVoTi"'''-*"' ^^- -Tou^w-at - -id the clftesse'" ^ "' ''""''^'"b^" "«. n>y dear Armand," " For instance ? " an' Orida"^! 'rin';r!:,-"„Z°P]>'-'- '« England the idea of the duke is atTeaJt Tfrlend rCre't'EHM- '''/'P"" ^^^' to the Stuarts All fhof«,i? u ^"^a'" and an enemy well." ^" *^*^ ^'" be useful, if things go on 96 I ^ I M> 402 H Ikent Squire 't> There by the begin "Let us trust they will go on no worse than they have begun," said the abbd piously. "Trust as much as you like, so long as we provide for things going on badly. It is there where you may be of real service." " Explain, my dear Yvonne." " Well, many things may happen that would be mconvenient to us. M. d'Orldans may manage to become imbecile, as madame de Maintenon prophecies; or he may find himself assassinated some fine morning by somebody who wants to oblige M. du Maine; or, in spite of my arrangements, M. de Berri may become regent or king." " Is he impracticable 'or you ? " " I fear so— even if his wife were out of the way. are some men so weak that they cannot even be led nose. At all events, I rely on nothing in that quarter." " Then you are prepared to be checkmated ? " "Not altogether. One can usually resign, and another game." "With whom?" " The chevalier de St. George, of course." The abb^ whistled softly. " Surely that is a very green gooseberry, my dear Yvonne. And even if it ripens, is it a big enough mouthful ? " "I see no reason why it should not be made so. Someone must step into queen Anne's shoes before long. No one over there cares a brass button for the elector, I imagine. Whereas I have the impression that I, as the right hand of the chevalier, could make a little following for him." " That is quite possible. But what is my rok in this ? " " Evidently you must attach yourself to the chevalier's party —secretly in England, openly here. You already know M. de Berwick ? " " A little. I went to him a year and a half ago wit^^ a letter from lord Oxford— Mr. Harley, he was then. A pr fos, there was one thing perhaps a little curious. Have you ever seen the chevalier de St. George?" " No." " Nor I. But M. de Berwick remarked, when I had my audience of him, that I was not altogether unlike the chevalier, both in face and figure— a little stouter, perhaps. ^ Till now I had forgotten the circumstance. I only saw M. de BcrvviCii twice, and scarcely in a way to permit of claiming acquaint- ance with him again." B Tkent Squire rse than they have 403 Thln.^ LtVL" IwiTe'a™ bu^"''' "S '^ '"' ""P-^"'- must go to Chalons a^dSn toZke v™ Pf/""', ''°"- y°" to the chevaher-M. de sf wict ?h,n ^•"''" '"^'Pensable Thus you can do «W I I .J ^J"' >'°" =>» opening. I canni. be both at Chalons and in P '°' "-^f fHus. yl ^,;'I„win develop aU 'Cl^^l^'-^tT!^^:^^ his''yes^'ca'l:^^irCn't"St*f [*" '^H ^■^"'" -'' " That will be easy." ;; I do not think of anything more.'' Th'e'rbb'.T k^^Hi^ ^^ --" door. ^ ^^^' ^"^ ^he comtesse unlocked the pu;;i|\™"h:xt^L°"4oxr' ^™»<''" ^-^ -^^i. to ge?uinf;n,r:S: 't^r!^^^'^^^ ?" "■">--'■ you have made me TOrthv nf vl, ^I '^"'"'ding in me raised me to a higlfeHe S-I fe'e?" T.^f- 1°" ''"'•'' to-be-forgotten interview a new man i° '""^J^'l "^ver- 'rrto'^r-ri;:-'£^^ The abb. .iss/d hifi^eT^^tX '^ „d^^^^^ CHAPTER XLVIII THE ABBE ASSISTS AT A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY aftenra'rritfin tidon 1 '^ JT' ^^ ^^^^^ ^^e day that prince fiig^ne influen-T^ ''\', 'T'^^'^g intelligence inertness of the WhU nnd n^i^'Y'^ ^^ ^'^^"^^ ^t the the hands of the rn hLrv h^f i^ ^^ ^^^"^ °^ ^^Pulsion at that morning. TheTettfn^' '"'l-^'P"'^'^ ^""^ the continen himseinpnv! o„::_ Cl^'^ ^'^° mtimated that the writer wo.-m Th«' oTTx "^"'" '"^ trance within the week " '"" m i ■ ■ 1 1 1 1 404 a "ftent Squire After rather prolonged discussion, the promise of Louis XIV. 's influence with the king of Spain was formally given, and the abbd set out for Utrecht on April 4th. Unfortunately, Philippe V. proved rather reluctant to concede the required renunciation of his French rights, and on April 1 8th Louis XIV. wrote in most peremptory terms to insist upon his settling the matter forthwith. Meanwhile, the negotiations at Utrecht were brought to a standstill, and the Allies took the field again, although the duke of Ormonde, who had succeeded Marlborough in the command of the British contingent, was hampered by secret instructions not to fight if he could possibly help it. The abbd Gaultier again went to Versailles in the course of May, and then crossed the Channel in order to obtain fresh instructions in England. Here he found some little change in the political situation. The Whigs were quiet, and no further action had been taken against the duke of Marlborough in connection with the charges of malversation of public money. On the Tory side, lord Oxford's star seemed somewhat on the decline, while that of St. John was as obviously in the ascendant. On July 7th the foreign secretary was raised to the peerage under the *:itle of viscount Bolingbroke. Not long after, it was decided, in spite of the queen's preference for the duke of Hamilton, that the new peer should proceed in person to France, in order to terminate, if possible, the inordinate delay in the conclusion of peace. This delay was inspired in no small degiee by the decisive victory of mar^chal de Villars over prince Eugene at Denain, on July 24th — a victory which went a good deal to console the French for the loss of their great general the due de Vendome, who had managed at last to gorge himself to death the previous month. It was now sufficiently obvious that the mi'>.ary success of the Allies would not survive the withdrawal of the duke of Marlborough, and as the king of Spain's renunciation had by this time been intimated to the British government, the latter had every reason for hastening the cessation of hostilities. Accordingly lord Bolingbroke set out for Paris at the end of August, and on his arrival accepted the hospitality of M. de Torcy's widowed mother, the ma'quis3 de Croissy. The viscount met with a most enthusiastic reception from the Parisians and the Verbuillais, and his visits to the cpcfii were made the occasion for regular ovations. A little later he was received by Louis XIV. at Fontainebleau with marked a Ikent Squire 405 ^.Zu^a^l\^ .K° P^^^^e^lf difficulties presented themselves in settling all the principal provisions of the intended treaty of K; 'n. r"^'"^ the registration of king Philippe's renunciation by the parliament of Pans, and Bolingbroke in due course re- turned to London. Messrs. Matthew Prior and Gault°er. who fett'nf lu ^'' '"^"^ '"'"^•"^^ behind to deal with mfnor details of the negotiations. But the abb^, after two or Three weeks' further stay in Paris, was recalled to London. Travelling by way of Calais, he secured a passage to Deal by a small English lugger which was returning after lanSni some Jacobite partisans on their road to Baf-le-duc whe"e the chevalier was now living. In the skipper and t'hrtwo sailors, who formed the crew of the lugger, the abbd thouX 'Sr^w^rd'Arhor'' ^'^ ^^ "^^^ ^^ had seen a°tt <^rown and Anchor and subsequently at the scene of Gwynett's execution, although the difference between thei present and former costume made him a little uncerTain But as It was evident that the men themselves had no rSectfon of him he ceased to concern himself about the matter S settled himself down for the trip as comfortably as Te accom modation of the lugger permitted. ^ °"'" When off Deal the skipper transferred his two fellow -sailors and certain trifles of smuggled goods to a schooner which lav at anchor m the offing, and then, at the abbd's request rowed Here th^ h "J^''''' °^ '^' ^^°^^ ^^^^^ ^ ^^^^ S thVtown o^ the nlH ""^ '"" "? '° '^^ ^^^^^ a»d made fast to Te of the old groyne-posts m the shingle. The skipper heloed his passenger ashore, took his valisi, and followed him In f httle roadside tavern about a couple of hundred yards iXnd the™mo^^ P""^\°"' ^'^ purse.Td%etder;d he:ifaTerbrtT^cepT'n^ ""'"'^' ^° '^^ ^"^P"-' '"^^ ^^'Pl-r "Do^?ou thinwT'l''',"'^ ^°°^ ^^"°^?" asked Gaultier. Do you think I look clever enough to be a coiner?" "' If^ourToru*? o7en\rSf Sfi'^lfLf ^• set that against the passagc-mon ™ L .„, '":.!.°' ™' "« '^■' ^<:tLZ^'^:^^'^^^^ ^^ "»° - no. ' Is your honour ready for the job now? ^ lrf h i i] 406 a Ikcnt Squire "No ? 'TIC like the present. I can get writing materials in the tav^> a here. Come inside." The abb6 and the skipper entered the parlour of the tavern and sat down. At the suggestion of the abb^, a glass of gin was ordered for his compairion, writing materials were pr vdiiccd, and the landlord was requested to keep the room undlsturijed till their business was transacted. The abb^ mended his pen secundum artem^ and asked his companior. for i-istructions. The skipper bung his hat on the handle of the door, in order to obstruct the eyes and ears of any curious tives- dropper, came back gently, and whiyjured, in inysterious tones, " I want a sort of dying letter." ''Diable/" said the astonished abb^, ''wikat species of epistle is that?" " A kind ot message firom the grave," explained ine skifspt^r, addressing *.r;>:;self sadly to his gin. The abb^ sucken l-ie end cf his quill, and looked inquiringly at his companion. *' It appear^ theii," he said, " that we are to be pathetic ? " ♦* Whath thit ?• " asked the skipper. " Pathetic ? Why, something that will arouse a sort of tender melancholy in the person who receives the letter." "Not at all," objected the skipper emphaticaliy, "We jnust curdle her blood," "Ah! so it is a 'her'?" " It is my wife." " That simplifies matters," remarked the abb^. " Perhaps you will give me a rough idea of what you wish said, and then we can put the thing into shape. May I ask the lady's rame?" " Madam Matthew Kermode." " Ah ! and you, then, are M. Matthew Kermode ? " •' At your honour's service." " And the address ? " " The ' Crown and Anchor ' inn. Deal." ''Pardieu! I was right, then," reflected the abb^. Then he went on, aloud, " Shall I commence, * My adored wife ' ? " " Lord bless your honour ! no — it's not that way at all." " It very seldom is," said the abb^. " But the phrase is popular. However, what will you have? " Begin ' Dear Bridget,' your honour." " Dear Bridget," wrote the abbd a ment Squire riting materials in lour of the tavern )h€, a glass of gin als were pv 'di'ct'd, room undifianDed i6 mended his pen ir instructions. e of the door, in ny curious tives- id, in iiiysterious ■'wisat species of lained the skipper, looked inquiringly to be i-'vthetic ? " arouse a sort of ives the ietter." phaticaliy. " We abb^, " Perhaps 3U wish said, and ly I ask the lady's ;rmode ? " the abb^. Then lat way at all." But the phrase is A! A- V^h^ ^^'^. '^'"''^^ y°"' ^ 5^^" be in the silent tomb."' dictated Matt slowly. ' « Admirable 1" remarked the abbd approvingly. "Where did you pick up that elegant sentence, my good friend ? " It is on a gravestone at Deal -or something like it" ''fclf.^'"- J^^'''"^^ ?'' ^"^ I ^^'^ i^ i/mind." ' Well, go on, M. Kermode." ;; 'Driven there by your everlasting jaw.' " continued Matt. » . T/ ^ '^ ^^ ^^^^ sympathetically, the oceanUrs— '»°'P''^' '''' "P°" ^^"^ ^^^^^^°'^ ^y "Really, that is very fine," remarked the abbd. "Does M KeTmode?'^°"' ''"'^' ^'''^ "^ conversation, my dear "I was never much of a talker," replied Matt. "But Sr?' ""^ ' '°'- ^'"' '^^^^ ^^'"^'"g ^ J°t «ver th^ u po}ibtless that accounts for it. What follows ? » Lrive me decent burial,' " dictated Matt. Excuse me," objected the abbe, "but, if you will recollect you are already in the silent tomb." recouect, "That's so,'' assented Matt, in a tone of considerable doTrpSV' "''"' '°""' ^^"^ '°"°"^ think'it m^t The abb^ considered the point for a moment. senJsIv''"Th?n it ''^T ^^ ^' ^ metaphor," said he seriously. Then the rest will pass muster, I think." air of reS "''"'" '' '^^''^^'^' ^ ''™'" °'''^'^^^ ^^"' ^"^ an " What next ? " asked the abbd h.'"^tu^7u'T^ f'y ""y ^^^ ^^^e' a"d Jf you don't want to have a third husband's death on your conscience ' » " Jn^1~^ delicate innuendo. Well, go on." ^^ Pick out a deaf man for your next miserable victim.'" more?'' '' ^'"^^mg," commented the abbd. "Anything Matt cogitated for a moment, and then d>Vt=>f*>ri to haui^yo^'!!^??" '^ ''''' ^'^ ^'^'^ may noT7end me back " Very ingeniously put," remarked the abbd 4o8 H fcent Squire I. is ) :j Hi $1 I: I I . •ti. " ' Cut if he does,' " proceeded Matt, " ' I shall know how to do my duty.' " "Pard/eu/ that will be sufficiently alarming, one would think," said the abb^. '•That's about all," said Matt; "except 'your much- enduring husband that was, Matthew Kermode.'" " You will sign it ? " asked the abbd, tendering the pen. " I guess my mark will have to do," replied Matt. The a.hh6 completed the letter, and handed it over to Matt to be decorated with a blodgy cross before the signature. Then he folded and sealed the paper, and directed it to the name and address already specified. " What is the next step, my good friend ? " he asked, with a certain amount of interest. " I was going to ask your honour to be good enough to find my hat and cloak on the beach, and this letter on top of them, with a stone to keep the wind from blowing it away." " With great pleasure," said the abb^. " So the idea is that you commit suicide by drowning ? " " That's it," replied Matt. "I am quite at your service. I will leave my valise here with the landlord, and go back with you now, if you like. Otherwise someone else may find your deposit." " I shall be very much obliged. They don't know me here, but it would be safer." The abb^ paid for the drink, left his bag with the host, and accompanied the skipper back to the boat on the beach, which was out of sight of the tavern. Matt went to the locker of the boat, brought out a dark heavy cloak, and rejoined the abb6 on the shingle. "I shall be rather sorry to part with it," he remarked, tendering the cloak to the abb^. "It's a rare one for cold nights, when it isn't wet enough for oilskins." •'No doubt," assented the abb^, taking the garment; " although it is scarcely the sort of thing one expects to find with a sailor. It seems to me a military cloak." " Like enough," replied Matt. " It was left at the ' Crown and Anchor ' last winter by a stranger, and my wife made me ta.-ce to it, to escort her to church in on Sundays and make the neighbours envious." The abh6 deposited the cloak on the beach and inquired. I ? " he asked, with So the idea is that h and inquired, a Ikent Squire 409 II What are you going to do with your boat, by the way ? " "Get back to the schooner, your honour," replied Matt looking rather surprised. ''Parbku/" said the abbe, "is that necessary? I should have thought the water was deep enough here for your purpose —especially if you put some stones in your pockets." " Hang me if I understand your honour," replied Matt in a puzzled tone. Then, as if a sudden light dawned upon him he asked, * " Does your honour think I'm such a bom fool as to drown myself m reality ? " The abbe's face fell, and he looked very much disappointed My good friend," he remarked, in an injured tone, " yoii certainly led me to expect it, and I came back here on purpose to be a sympathetic spectator of your tragic fate But, of course, it is for you to decide. Then this letter is all humbug?" "Of course it is, your honour. I hope that won't make any difference?" "I suppose not," replied the abbd regretfully. "It was a slight misunderstanding, that was all. May I ask if this is to be a little joke till to-morrow, or are you going to keep "Good Lord! your honour," affirmed Matt, with extreme earnestness, "if I don't escape for good this time, I'm a dead man. 1 hope your honour will keep my secret ? " " As to that, you may depend upon me. But am I to take these things up to the tavern here, or do you want them left presently."'"'''" Anchor'? I am going through Deal "I didn't like to ask your honour to take so much trouble, but if you could leave 'em at Deal " cZ^l\ 1"^^^ ^^^^'" '^'^ *^^ ^^^^' beginning to think he could extract some amusement from the widow's reception of the news of her bereavement. and goodtck?' ' ^°"°"' "''^ "'"'^' ""^ ^'^^ y°" good day, said^the^abbT^^^^^''" °" recovering your bachelor freedom," "I am much obliged to your honour." Matt laid his oilskin hat on the cloak, and nullf^d ^ -o^liop he? Za"^" ^'f • '^"*'"" ^" '^^'^^ °ff the" boat: leapedbto ner, and rowed away towards the schooner in the offing. The abbe sat on the groyne, with the cloak across his knee, watching / 1 ■)■'(,. - ^ if' ^,: I: ) I' f 1 .-'If ii I 410 a Iftcnt Squire the little craft as she grew more and more distant. Finally he cast a glance of examination at the cloak. "This is certainly a little above the style of our suicide," he said to hiniself. " If i- ;ood enough for a cavalry officer." He felt m the 1 ,, ( m found nothing. Then he turned It over to msp ... ^, which was stiffened with waddinc round the shcul.'.-ih and chest. His eye was caught by a sort of seam down ihe inside of the front, and a little button con- cealed undei a flap close to the collar. u »T^ "^^!' ^u'-of-the-way sort of pocket," he soliloquised. Most pickpockets in a hurry womH - Mok this." With some trouble he unbi ...iieu tne flap, .vhich covered the raouth of a deep, narrow pocket. V/hen he inserted his fingers they just reached far enough to touch the edge of a folded paper, which could not be felt from the outside, owins to thiv thickness of the material of the cloak. After several unsuccessful attempts, he managed to extract the paper, and found it was a sealed letter, addressed to the earl of Oxford. "J'esfe/ it seems as if my lord misses some of his corres- pondence, ' remarked the abb^ to himself. He looked closely at the seals, and recognised the crest and motto of the Melforf family. " That is curious," he muttered. " And now I look closelv, this 12 lady Melfort's handwriting. What does she wan. v. 1th lord Oxford this time?" He look(;rl from the letter to the cloak, and from the cloak to the letter again. Some dim remini cence seemed struggling to arouse itself in his mind. Then he gave a great start. "Sangdieu/" he burst out excitedly, "it is the letter— the letter that that cursed Gwynett was carrying. This is the cloak he spread over the chair before th- fire that night at the Crown and Anchor.' But I thought it belonged to the other man, and I Ved in the wro i, place. Marvellous « " CHAPTER XLIX HOW LORD OXFORD LOOK :D AT THINGS The abb^ for a minute or t1 nAV>r\£&^«*-rxr4 t! (i- - - -- H-"-- ^God fo;tune, and • V quite overcr ^e by his *u * r .Ti ."'. — '^^' " *^^ alrtacy handled the comfortable sum which Iv.arie JLatour had assured him was to be the price of the precious epistle. Then ti^ looked e distant. Finally, of our suicide," he cavalry officer." J. Then he turned rened with wadding as caught by a sort a little button con- ," he soliloquised. 3k this." lap, ^vhich covered en he inserted his uch the edge of a the outside, owing )ak. After several let the paper, and ! earl of Oxford. )me of his corres- He looked closely 3tto of the Melforf low I look closely, oes she wan., v.ith nd from the cloak seemed struggling a great start, is the letter — the ing. This is the fire that night at it belonged to the Marvellous » " miNGS overcf Tie by his alreaoy bandied had assured him Then n looked " It was a sealed letter." -Paije UIO. m ■!•■ n- I i,S t. a Ikcnt Squire 4ti again at the seals. Of these there were four, two of them being cracked across, and the remainder intact. It happened that the abWs varied experiences had never included any practice at tampering with letters by means of facsimile seals, and the limited resources of the period rendered the dexterous use of this art almost an entire monopoly of diplomatists' secretaries. He knew enough of the subject to feel assured that to bungle the restoration of the seals, after melting the wax to get at the contents of the letter, would at once invite detection. On the other hand, Marie I-atour had only been able to tell him that the letter conveyed a warning of the Brest expedition of 1694, that it was seriously compromising to lord Marlborough, and that lady Melfort, without any contradiction from M. de Torcy, had spoken of its being worth twenty thousand livres to lord Oxford as a weapon against the great Whig leader. This information was by no means a satisfactory substitute for an exact acquaintance with the letter itself, and the abb^ cogitated seriously whether it would not be better to run the risk of tampering with the letter than to attempt to deal with it in ignorance of its exact significance. Finally, he decided to take the modest view that his own reputation as the depository of a secret was worth so little that no one would pay him for the letter if they had the slightest reason to suspect that he was in a position to sell a knowledge of its contents to someone else. Acting upon this decision, he put the paper carefully in his breast-pocket, picked up Matt's bequests, and returned to the tavern. Here he made the fateful cloak, hat, and letter into a parcel, and engaged a lad to carry it, together with his valise, into Deal. He executed his commission at the ' Crown and Anchor,' and, without wasting any time in learn- ing its results, hired a horse to carry him through Wray on his way to London. On the occasion of the abbes visit to Wray Cottage the day following the execution, he had found, after awaking to consciousness, that the place was in charge of an elderly caretaker, who had left the house for a few minutes' gossip with a neighbour and been detained by the thunderstorm. From this custodian he learned that nothing had been heard of madam Rostherne and her niece since their departure for Devonshire, and that Muriel hid certainly not come into the neighbourhood. Later inquiry from the housekeeper at Wray Manor elicited no further information, and the abbe i t ( !'■" If »'7 % Mt ^ |I2 a ikeut Squire had been compelled to return to London a good deal puzzled as to what could have become of Muriel after leaving Maidstone. He had since then, at intervals of a couple of months or so, made two visits to Wray, and been equally unsuccessful each time. The Wrays were still absent, and the housekeeper at the Manor had apparently been instructed to say as little about them as possible. On this present journey the abbd hoped to find that the family had returned to the Manor for the summer, and that his pursuit of Muriel might be again resumed. But on arriving at Wray he found matters precisely as he had left them. The house was shut up, the housekeeper was not at home, and the serving-wench whom he found at the lodee knew nothing about anything. The abbd resumed his ride to London with a good deal of vexation, and consequently paid no particular attention to the fragments of gossip which met his ears on the road. But at Gravesend, where he arrived too late to continue his journey that day he became aware that a notable recent event was in everybody's mouth. This was the famous duel between the duke of Hamilton and lord Mohun, which had taken place a few days previously, and the news of which had missed him during a cross-country journey from Versailles. After lord Bolingbroke's return from Paris the queen had insisted upon the carrying out of her original plan of sending the Jacobite duke of Hamilton to Fiance, ostensibly as ambassador-extraordinary, but in reality to make secret arrangements for the succession of her brother, the chevalier de bt. George, to the English throne after her own decease. The duke was on the point of setting out upon his mission when some episode m an interminable lawsuit between him- self and lord Mohun— an aristocratic rake, bully, and black- guard of the first water— led to a challenge from the latler 1 he disputants met in Kensington Gardens on November icth Mohun being seconded by a certain general Macartney, a Whig hanger-on of lord Marlborough. The duke of Hamilton who received a severe wound in the early passes, killed his adversary on the spot. But immediately afterwards, according to the report of his .second, colonel Hamilton, the duke was stabbed m the breast by Macartney, and died in a few minutes. The assassin escoped, a proclamation was issued against hmi by the Privy Council, and the Tor" 'v".rt*- \yiV • voice accused the duke of Marlborough of havVng inXa'ted both the challenge and the murder. ■•-y$t I good deal puzzled Uriel after leaving :rvals of a couple ^ and been equally re still absent, and tly been instructed d to find that the summer, and that esumed. But on ely as he had left ikeeper was not at Dund at the lodge with a good deal ticular attention to on the road. But Jntinue his journey i recent event was lous duel between which had taken which had missed sailles. ris the queen had il plan of sending ice, ostensibly as to make secret ther, the chevalier her own decease, upon his mission, suit between him- bully, and black- e from the latter. 1 November 15th, jral Macartney, a luke of Hanulton, passes, killed his Twards, according 3n, the duke was 1 died in a few lation was issued having instigated a Tkent Squire 4x3 This piece of news caused the abb^ to pass a tolerably bad night. He exercised his mind for several hours in a vain attempt to decide whether the document he carried was likely to be worth less or more in consequence of the new charge against lord Marlborough. If the duke was seriously implicated m the assassination, he was probably already in the way of being ruined, without any extraneous assistance being necessary. On the other hand, his enemies might require to attach to him just the additional amount of odium which the abb^ thought he was in a position to furnish. Pmally, he decided to feel his way with lord Oxford before allowing anything about his trouvaille to transpire and composed himself to slumber. The next morning he proceeded to report himself at Downing Street, and paid his first visit to the foreign secretary s office. There he was told that lord Bolingbroke was engaged, but hoped to see him in the course of an hour "Will that be convenient to you, M. I'abb^?" asked the clerk who brought the message. "Quite," replied the abbd " I will go and see lord Oxford in the meantime." The clerk bowed politely, and turned to an usher at the other end of the room. " His lordship will receive the baron von Starhemberg," he called out. A cousin of the imperial general," he added for Gaultier s benefit. The abb^ glanced casually at the newcomer, as he was led by the usher from a side room into lord Bolingbroke's private office. He was a tall old man, bent nearly double, with a very swarthy complexion, and heavy white eyebrows and cavalry moustache. A few words addressed to the usher showed that he was conversant with English, although speaking with a strong south German accent. He passed on with ou noticing the abb^ or the clerk, and dis .ppeared into Bohngbroke's room. The abbd took his leave, and went to by lorToxford ^'^ ^^ '^''' received with his usual cordiality M"Str^/°""'^^^y°J'' '^P^'* y^^ *° '^""^ Bolingbroke, was seat4 *"'^"' treasurer, as soon as his visito^ " He is engaged at the moment," replied the abb^. « I am • -» imiv. luici. " I Will join him, then, to save you telling your tale twice over. Anything new in Paris ? " i i (» 414 H Ikent Squire "Very little. The news of the confirmation of the king of Spain s renunciation by the Cortes arrived just as I left Bu n?th^Ti, . »"''''^'"^, "°i.^!^^^ S°^"g °" he^e- I only heard O'thedukeof Hamilton's affair last night." ^' Ah? " said the treasurer, in a neutral tone. .K- " '^.^"?' awkward for lord Marlborough. Is there any- thing definite to connect him with the matter?" ^ " Nothing transpired before the Council," replied Oxford. ; All the better," thought the abbd. Then he went on There is a little matter which I think ought to be' men- *' Certainly, my dear abbe." " It t°"''^,''"i ^""'^ Marlborough, I believe. It has come o my knowledge, m a way I am not at liberty to disclose that a certain person holds a letter of the duke's to St. Germain' written just before the Brest disaster in 1694, of a ven' thTexp^diJrol" ~''"°""'^"^' '" ^'''' ^" ^ ^'''^y^^ °f The treasurer nodded acquiescingly. ''I am not aware of the actual wording of the letter but the holder asserts that if produced it would%onvict the duke so TauThorL^ei^ '^™''' '"^ proceedings against him wou?d J' Zt\''^ f^'^'J ^ ^°°^ ^^^^'" ^^'■'^ the treasurer. " How does the holaer of the letter propose to act in the matter ? » bo far as I can make out," replied the abb^, "it is reallv a question of the importance of such a letter to the intere ts of her majesty's government. For the holder to part with would expose him to the enmity of lord Marlborough The duke ,s not the sort of enemy an obscure person cares to make— without good reasons." '' Probf W '^"'^^^''°"^ ^^'"^ financial ones, probably ? " The treasurer rapidly ran over in his mind the firos and cons of the proposed transaction. The problem wesented was not altogether simple, and the chief difficulty lay n he probability that the asserted letter was quite as compromis n-, to the duke as it was stated to be. pi^omising The fact was that the progress of events had rendered Oxford more afraid of his colleague Bolingbroke than of his opponent Marlborough. The rapid failing of the queen' health was brrrinnirKr ^^ ;5Y,.,,>-.i ,u^ ^- r- ^;;"- queens . . _-_,——..- ... uripvrji me position 01 liie iorv ministry to a serious extent, and the treasurer had to take a Ikent Squire 415 nation of the king of ?d just as I left. But 1 here. I only heard tone. ough. Is there any- natter ? " 1," replied Oxford. hen he went on, ik ought to be men- on its being treated lieve. It has come t liberty to disclose, uke's to St. Germain, in 1694, of a very ict, to a betrayal of of the letter, but the :onvict the duke so against him would ; treasurer. "How in the matter ? " i abbd, " it is really tter to the interests Ider to part with it Marlborough. The ire person cares to probably ? " mind the j>ros and problem presented lifficulty lay in the e as compromising 2nts had rendered ?broke than of his ig of the queen's ition of the Tory isurer had to taki- into account the risk of an imminent Guelph succession, and the consequent return of the Whigs to power. While he was extremely anxious that the duke of Marlborough should make matters temporarily comfortable by leaving the country, he was equally anxious to avoid being openly instrumental in driving him abroad. As regards action at home, he had all through the session taken care that the blovs dealt at Marlborough should come from the queen, the privy council, and the majority in the Commons, and not directly from himself. But any action based upon this asserted letter would require to be taken by himself individually. In this case, whether the duke got out of the imbroglio or succumbed, it would equally be hopeless for the treasurer to expect any quarter under a Hanoverian succession from the enraged Whigs. It also happened that he had been secretly busy in getting indirect pressure put upon the duke, by which he himself ran no risk at all. The Blenheim contractors, who had been left unpaid by the queen, had been egged on to sue the duke for their arrears of ;^3o,ooo, and the Commons had revived the proceedings for the restoration of the 2^ per cent, de- duction from the war-chest, of which mention has already been made. The treasurer had reason to believe that these steps were already likely to induce Marlborough to retire to the continent, so that to put superfluous pressure might be as useless as it was dangerous. On the other hand, to lay out money on a purchase which might turn out not to be needed was the last thing in the world to commend itself to lord Oxford. On the whole, he decided that the abba's bombshell had better not be thrown, for the present at all events, and that therefore he would decline to negotiate for the missile in question. " Well, my dear abb^," he said finally, " I cannot say that any useful suggestion occurs to me to make in this affair. It IS, of course, possible that your friend's letr.er may be every- thmg that he supposes ; but all these matters are nearly a score of years old, and we should look rather ridiculous if we pretended to make a fuss about them now. At least, that is my personal view of the affair— you must take it for what it is worth." This speech came upon the abbe as an intensely disagreeable surprise. However, he gulped down his disappointment, and rcpiica, " Probably your U-rdship is quite right." t ^-rnrnm 416 1 1 a mm Squire ! \ ' . 'i; f i '■ 1. i 1 |j "At the same time," went on Oxford, " such a letter is not to be thrown away. The time may come when it would be uncommonly useful," " I will mention what you say, my lord." " As you please, my dear abb^. And now let us have some lunch." As soon as this meal had been discussed, the treasurer and Oaultier went to Bolingbroke's office, and the abbd presented his formal report on the progress of the treaty negotiations A desultory discussion followed, after which the abb^ took his leave, and went off to his rooms in the Strand. He was profoundly disgusted at the unexpected coldness with which his offer had been received by lord Oxford, and for the moment felt very much inclined to hand the letter to one of the Grub Street news-sheets out of pure spite. But this rash impulse did not survive a second thought, and he addressed himself to the problem of making his market some- where else. Lord Bolingbroke was probably hopeless, as he was person- ally on excellent terms with the duke of Marlborough, and his political opposition was notoriously a mere question of ambitiori and self-interest. As a possible purchaser of the letter, his motives would be very likely those of a friend to the duke rather than an enemy. But the abbe felt regretfully that his friendliness would not run to twenty thousand livres or even twenty thousand brass buttons. ' The queen herself was amongst the most bitter enemies of the duke. She was, however, scarcely accessible, and, in any case, would probably be too timid to deal independently with such a matter. There remained lord Marlborough himself, and it was a question whether any possible degree of prospective unpleasant- ness or danger would seem to his lordship an adequate reason for parting with his cherished guineas. But the near approach of the elector's succession to the throne made much the same impression upon the abbe as it did upon lord Oxford. Ho saw at once that, in default of anything better, it might turn out a paying investment to pose as the duke's guardian angel and chivalrous defender, by making him a present of the letter. He therefore decided to call at Marlborough House as soon as he had fortified himself with a good dinner. In the meantime, the duke's own affliirK w.^rf rou^in^f h'-ni an infinity of worry and anxiety. He was not in g'ood'hiiaith* and he was, moreover, feeling acutely the loss he had sustained low let us have some a Iftent Squire 4,7 by the death of his closest friend Gndnlnh;« « c previously. The lawsuit of i^^Bwl^^tntrl,^, Ifl S,rre„°;rre-i?r^^^^^^^^^^^ Se. James's, Octotr" 'Ch. Ti'e /The'tdgTrecLt'l day or two afterwards, he had asLd fnV !« « 7 ^ * Bolingbroke in reply had merely remarked w1?h f P^?^Vo»- Sis t^rS- S^SS My LORD, " November 26t/t, ly 12. ^^^S^i^^-^-^"-^-'^" on . „a«cr Gaultier du Fresne de Beauval." »7 rr'**" WOM 'ii i ! r 1 ^1 Hi IIS 418 a Ikent Squire CHAPTER L DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND The duke passed the note back to Cardonnel, and asked, " Who is this Gaultier, etc., etc. ? Is not that the name of the agent they have been sending to Utrecht ? " " The same,"' replied Cardonnel. " He is hand in glove with lord Oxford. Do you think it safe to see him ? " "Why not?" " These people are all perfectly furious about the Hamilton affair. You must not forget the marquis de Guiscard at the Cockpit last year." " Pooh ! do you suppose they would have the impudence to assassinate me ? " " They might find it very convenient if someone would do it for them." " But why this fellow ? " " I don't know. Not knowing, I suspect. Anyhow, if you give him an interview, take precautions. People do not come here from lord Oxford for aiiy good, I should fancy." " That isn't his style, my dear fellow, at all." '• PossiJDly, but it may be this Gauitier's style. See him, if you choose, only allow me to make a little arrangement first." The secretary went out, and returned with a couple of long double-barrelled pistols. He placed these on the duke's table, and covered them artistically with loose papers. The handles lay towards the duke's writing-chair, and were within a few inches of his hands as he sat. The muzzles pointed to the easy-chair in which callers usually sat, near the other side of the table. So arranged, the pistols were already aimed, and could be fired without taking them up. "That will make things comfortable, I think," said the secretary. 'M propos, something occurs to me which falls in with my suspicions. One of our last letters from Bar-le-duc mentioned that this Gaultier had been there lately with the duke of Berwick. Lord Hamilton is a frightful loss in that quarter, and, of course, you get the credit of it at present." The duke was, in spite of himself, a little impressed by Cardonnel's warnings. " I don't say your idea is impossible," he remarked ; " but it would be ridiculous not to see him. Show him in, my dear fellow, and then leave us." a Tf^ent Squire 419 The secretary went out, and returned with the abb^ TJ,« duke rose, and bowed to his visitor. ^''^ "Do me the favour to be seated M ranu;^, » j , somewhat distasteful to your lordshb aI\ „ ?''';°" been entrusted .ith a sh'are alZu'^h a hum^r ta t' The duke waved his hand politely, any terms, however dLdv^mag^ous— » ""°™« P""^' ^" to serve your lordship's interests" ""^ ""^ ^^^ ^?''^L/l''^'y Sood of you, M. I'abbe." " Your InXv''^ "" '"°"'^"^' ^"^ ^hen went on, ::£ »w,rinr,^rd-i-s^^^^ - sp&tTor r-ft srni-f '^.t-r -- because this proof „aTSi„'° ■.'^""^ '""^""P ^'°'^. " "a., .haJ TheT:lfrot'VUrd ^tlulh'" t" =■ f ™'"8 '-P'-"" »as coming next "* " "' "">' ™>dered%rh,-,i •I" r 1' ' 420 B fkcnt Squire I i^ 1:1 {■.^ " You interest me very much, my dear sir," he replied urbanely. " I presume you can go a little more into detail on the matters you have mentioned ? " " With your lordship's permission I will do so." The abb^ drew his chair rather closer, with a confidential air. The duke's hand strayed a little nearer to the pistol-butt, and he replied, " I am all attention, M. I'abb^." "Amongst your lordship's ill-wishers," asked the abb^, " do you happen to be aware of one Ambrose Gwynett ? " The duke recollected that this was the name of the owner of the F/eur de Lys, but it was otherwise unknown to him. He did not, however, see any use in telling the abb^ this, so merely replied, " You may assume that much, M. I'abb^." The duke's affirmation took the abbd a good deal by surprise. For a moment or two he felt at a loss how to proceed without running the risk of inadvertently inventing some impossibility which would be at once obvious to his listener. Finally, he asked cautiously, " Is your lordship acquainted with his whereabouts ? " " Not in the least," replied the duke. " Good ! " thought the abbd, " he has never heard of the execution." He went on aloud, " May I ask how far back is your lordship's latest knowledge of his proceedings ? " " Probably a twelvemonth since," replied the duke, with an inward sigh for his vanished million. " That would be about the time," hazarded the abb^, " of his somewhat equivocal connection with a certain vessel called the Fieur de Lys ? " It was now the duke's turn to be staggered. " The deuce ! " he said to himself, " is it possible this fellow knows anything ? " Then he said aloud, " Ah ! the F/eur de Lys, was it ? " "Your lordship is probably informed of that affair?" observed the abb6. The duke bowed assentingly, and remarked, "Nevertheless, I should Hke to hear your version, M. I'abbd" " It appears that this Gwynett, my lord, was aware of certain treasure-chests on board the brig, which hart iust arrived at Calais, and were to be removed to Paris." " Ah !" thought the duke, with a good deal of relief, " this is the other end of the stick." t possible this fellow 1 of that affair? deal of relief, *' this a tkcnt Squire 4,, "He arranged a very daring plan to cantiirf- thic »,. on Its way to the camtni " «,o.?* h"»'» i" capiure this treasure which I hU°heVod orLeTn »°" '^^ '^^^ ^''^'y* "^ P'^n At the time I hIh n^r , '^""^ J° ^^^ instrumental in defeating see^'oT/lrcoV^eere^^^^^ tt '''^' ^'^' ^ ^^ "°^ P--'^ poller tret is^Gw^Ln^^^^^^^^^ hlt^ ^'^'^ ^'^'"^ ^'^ portant piece of news. ^ When I Iv fhat 2^°^" '""^^ •'^- a lady, upon whose staJm^nf t^ that my informant was reliance, ySu? lordship l^lToHn >?" P'""^ ""^''y P°^«'ble explicit as\o my aulhoHty/' °"^'' '"'"'" "^^ being more 1! I applaud your discretion, M. I'abbd " had Issls^lTd^^^llfetrt^o":^^^^^^^^^ .T. '""^'^ ^^'^ ^^-" lordship's from lord Me fort's rooms at St rT ^'"'' °7°"^ setting out for England to sellTtTo \nJn V T'"' '""'^ ^^^ against your lordship." '"'"^ ^"^"'^ ^^ ^ weapon '^?-!h y»\'°°^ •'i''' ''^'■y '•^ther seriously. fhejr^uii! h^e%:s^a;;\tri;;; ij^tef i^aV^ft ^^"'r looks as ,f somebody were behind\im '" ^ ^ '^'"^' ^' ceeded^^GauUier'' that"h^J^ confess to" your lordship," pro- reason^We." ""'"'>'■ **■ '''"'''^' ^"^ P°'"' <>( view fa qui.e The abW bowed, and went on, belfeve"'tha. pSr^a's p7c.L°at """ ' ^^O/^^y -a^on ,o rose in revolt at the ,de?^,fr'>^ "•':'"■'=.<'• ""'' ^^ "".v instincts to ruin one of the 'latest me^'of'"'"''"" ^'"^ "'""-''' <"" disciple of mv illusSf ' „ " 5 ""i °*" " ""X age-a of a ^Itry han^dfu, o, "^LT''"""" ^utenne-for the'sake and'hedukeKinl'dour^' "''"' ■■"""'-•"« ""'•■"cy, saying, '" S'^'^'™' acceptance of the compliment| [I : ■ ' i ■) ' ^i 4'^ B "^icnt Sauire "I am, of course, flattered to hear that any specimen of my poor scrihl)!(: is considered worth selling. But I am quite at a loss, M. I'abW, to think of one tli. t would be worth buying." Gaultier cleared his throat, and drew his chair a little nearer. The duke negligently closed his fingers round the butt of the nearest pistol, and smiled blandly upon his visitor. " My lord," said the abb^, in a low tone, " this letter was one concerning the expedition to Brest in 1694. It was sent to king James II, through colonel Sackville." The duke's face continued to smile, but his heart seemed to stop beating. For a moment or two he was perfectl) unable to utter a single word. Then he drew a long breath, and remarked slowly, "I cannot say my memory serves me in the matter, M. I'abb^. But pray continue your story." "Well, my lord, it seems that this Gwynett, who had apparently some extraordinary hatred of your lordship, had boasted of being about to receive twenty thousand livres from lord Oxford for this letter, and that its publication would bring your lordship to the Tower or even to Tower Hill. I instantly determined that, at all cost and risk to myself, I would safeguard your lordship against this piece of mercenary revenge." " It wa- s.xtTe.nely good of you, M. I'abb^," said the duke. " And h' ' ' CiKt you act ? " "I set a.-fde the private business which had taken me to Paris, and mi mediately followed in the track of this Gwynett to England. I was lucky enough to overtake him near Deal, a few hours before he was going to have the first opportunity of meeting lord Oxford. This was early on last New Year'.s Eve. I failed in my first attempt to secure the letter from his person, but was able to follow him, unrecognised, to an inn at Deal. The same evening, my lord, I was favoured by a wonderful opportunity of ridding you of your enemy for good, and I at once availed myself of it. Did your lordship hear of the occurrences that night at the * Crown and Anchor ' ? » " I have no recollection of anything of the sort." "Not the robbery and murder by Ambrose Gwynett, and the subsequent execution of the murderer ? " "Not a word. You can quite understand that about that time I had my attention a little too much occupied to have any leisure for gossip. I can scarcely suppose the matter was in the matter, M. b^," said the duke. a Hicnt Squire 423 mentioned in my he.-ing, because I shoulu uinly have been struckl.v the name. ^Vkat were the circu tan^es^ " ^Jrll f^i ^'"?- ^I' ^^"^ "^f ^ ^'s breast-pocket, and the watchfu duke put his finger round the trigger of the pistol C as Gault.er only pulled out an old nLs-.sheet, he duke quietly withdrew his hand again. ' ^ hJT^J'P''P^':i '"y ^'''^' S'^^^ a" '-account ,f the ,e as detailed in evidence at the trial," said Gaultier Dassu.^ thp me e .ecution. Then he returned it to tl ,u6 "It?Sn^^'ofi'^HP.^'•°^^'■• ^^'' -'"'"'he remarked. "By no means," replied the abbd "The arrest of vnnr o?S J ,'°r'/ "'\"°,^ ^^'^^ ^^^ «^«^ «t^P towarS'rSdh g'you prove tnt best and only oppa^tunity of securing the letter he earned. I was able to search his person before he was re nioved in custody, but found nothing. Thenltookrstan; hfd'K u- ?' '?"^"u^'°" ^° «^^^^h the clothes and valise he n^fto&nd L-ny'^he'r^er-'- ^"^-^""^^^^^' ^'^^ ^^^ - narTative"''''' ^'^' """'^ ^'"'"''^ '''^^'^'' ^' ^^is detail of the obse^ed'cd'dlv'°""Tr/ ''Tu'''' ''''' "^^ ^^^ «-'' he u • u ^^^'^'y- That IS, if there was anv letter nf nil which personally I venture to doubt." ^ ""''' fiat rw!n!i!^; ^ ""^^ P^'^?^^'^ ''^'^^'" th''»t there was a letter, and u e eS LT mftVZr r" .i'"' '-^^ disappearance made U subect YoTwn„M . ''^?'^1!^'''".S y^""- ^^^d^hip on the shoT."hav?onir:ld X^l'L'^ '"" •""^^"^°"'' -^ ^ began *ti"^hini; '/v "^"''^ "^.^'' ^- ^'«^^^'" '^^^ ^^e duke, who ''Sin that r.^''7'\"^'^^ ^]^' ^ deplorably feeble tory your Usent visk ? " ° "''' '" ' ^"'^'^^^ ^°^ ^'^^ ^°-- «^ The abbe did not see the use of drawing nnon hi. .V-^--- which'7e tT:^ r^ ^" "'^"^^^^ the circumstances S; which he had at last come into possession of lady Melfort's MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 I.I 1.25 |M 11111= ■^ IIIIIM |63 t ilM ■ eo 1^ Ih i.4 2.5 1 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 A APPLIED IKA^GE Inc —^^ 1653 East Main Street r.S Rochester, New York 14609 USA ■= (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone = (716) 288 - 5989 - Fox mss !• m 424 a Ikent Squire ** Thus, my lord," he concluded, " I am happily in a position to claim credence for the earlier details of my story, and I trust your lordship is satisfied of my good faith, and, what is more, of my devotion to your lordship's interests." " Perfectly, my dear sir," replied the duke, whose interest was now fully aroused. The abbd again put his hand in his pocket, and brought out a flat package with more than one sealed covering. While he was carefully undoing these, the duke watched him with close attention. " Is it a trick or not ? " he asked himself anxiously. " The letter may be genuine, and he will want to sell it. Or it may be a trap of Oxford's — no letter, or only a forgery — and they want me to commit myself. I wonder what he will ask ? " Meanwhile, the abb^ was hurriedly making a final decision as to the course to adopt with lady Melfort's letter. He fore- saw that the duke might consider it as dangerous to pay for the letter as to refuse to buy it. He could, without any great straining of probability, repudiate it as an impudent fabrication. But to buy it would be to admit its genuineness, and the abbe feared that this was almost too much to expect. On the other hand, by trying to drive a bargain and failing, he would shut himself out from all chance of affecting the magnanimous, and of thereby putting the duke under an obligation. Just as he broke the last seal of his extra cover, he reluctantly decided that it would be easier, wiser, and infinitely safer to offer the letter gratis. He unfolded a thin sheet of paper, took out the letter, and handed it to lord Marlborough. " This is the letter of which we have been speaking, my lord," he said. The duke took the letter, and recognised in an instant that the address was in lady Melfort's handwriting, and that the seal was the one she always employed. It was thus quite probable that, after all, the abb6 was not lying. The duke began to feel that he was on very thin ice indeed. He specu- lated pleasantly for a moment on the expediency of putting a bullet through the abb^ without more ado, but regretfully came to the conclusion that this comfortable solution of the difficulty could not be safeiy entertained. He made a real effort, and handed the letter back to the abb^ with a bow. ** Certainly, this address seems to have been written by some lady using the Melfort seal," he remarked indifferently. " But as to the contents, my dear sir, you must excuse my being a Httle sceptical about my possible concern with them." a ment Squire 425 The abbd was so taken aback at finding the letter in his own hands again, that it was a moment or two before it occurred to him to say, uciure it " If there are any doubts still in your mind, my lord thev can easily be removed." ^ ' ^ " How, M. I'abbd ? " " By opening the letter, my lord " tl-.e^ibbf"^ ^^"""""^ ^^""^ '" ^'' ''^''"' ^"^ ^^^'^^^ blandly at bv'l^d Ox?o!S- S^"^^^^^''; !^^r^n^-rked, "if you are authorised by lord Oxford to open his private correspondence it is of course, no affair of mine. But you can understand tha' under toXfiXTor-' ' ''-' ' '-'^-^ ^^-' ^"--^ y- Tne abbd began to feel he was losing ground let ef f. IT"^'" ^' ''^"'^ ^''''^y' "y«' "^'^take me. This letter is at your service, to make what use you like of it I pace it m your lordship's hands unreservedly." And the duki '°'' '"^ '"'^ '^' ^''''' "" '^' ^^ble again before the jy^"- ""^f ^'^'■"'u' ^- ^''■^^^^" ^«ked the duke, who was determined to push the matter home regrJt.""'^' """""' ""^ ^°'^'" '''^ '^^ ^^^^' ^^^h a pang of m"??,!-^"" ^ certain amount of responsibility upon me M. Gaultier," said the duke, negligently taking up the letter' as a new suspicion came into his mind. ^ " If you L nren^ "d yourself to withhold this document from lord Oxfo'dl^'' uZ.A "?? ''^^''^^^ ^°, ^^^"'^"^ the seals closely, and then turned suddenly upon the abbe shir Jy!'" '^^^' ^^""^ ^^^" ^^"'P^'"^^ ^'th, sir ! " he said The abb^ had had occasion to be so painfully aware of hi-, hurrat"t"°''"'' °' ''" '^^"^^^^°" *^^ 'h^ ^^1' eLTedingV virllSuft^iI^Lj?' "^' "^ '°^^'" ^^ ^"-^ -t' -th pliS'ed har'in^F "°' ^'"J ^°^^°^^y y^^^^ the most accom- SL were tellfn J?h' T'^u''' i?''^'"'"^ ^o know when other tKbb?srPr„^"? ^'f^- , He recognised the sincerity of me abbe s repudiation, and replied, in a sunver ton^ about tl^ seals'^ in'J' ''• '''^^'■. ' P/^haps I'mly be mistaken It onlv occn ; J" ^"'! ^^'^ " '« «^ "" possible consequence. only occurs to me to observe that the account you have t^mSiMA ^^^^g/l^agmg^^ 426 a 1kent Squire J J given me scarcely bears out your description of matters in the first instance. It is not, of course, your fault that I feel a little disappointed." " In what way, my lord ? " asked the abbd anxiously. " I gathered, from your introductory remarks, that you took an active part in what you have called.^ ' getting rid of one of my enemies,' and also in securing this letter. Ycu will allow me to point out that, through no fault of yours, the letter seems to have been lighted upon by pure chance. And as to Mr. Gwynett, of whose ill-will to myself I have no evidence, his removal has been evidently due to the ordinary course of justice." The abbd was thrown completely off his guard by the profound injustice of this complaint. " Not at all, my lord ! " he cried hastily. " Had it not been for me, Mr. Gwynett would have been alive and well, and would have carried out his project." The duke recognised that a new note had been struck, and contemplated the abb^ with some curiosity. " Explain, my dear sir," said he. " My lord," replied Gaultier, " I will ask you to recollect that severe diseases require severe remedies, as tho justification for what I am about to tell you." *• Without doubt," assented the duke. The abb^ plunged at once in medias res. He was, of course, not unconscious of the fact that carping critics might taki; exception to the means by which he had secured Gwynett's arrest. But he opined— and probably correctly — that the duke was the last man in the world to affect nishness when an important end had to be gained. ' therefore gave a full account of his own share in the proceedings at the 'Crown and Anchor,' modifying the episode at VVray Cottage into a personal struggle between himself and Gwynett for the possession of the letter. He concluded by remarking, " I trust, iny lord, you will now admit I am justified in claiming some share in relieving you of this unscrupulous villain." The duke began to think he could see daylight in the whole business. "That explains things," he said to himself. "It is some old score of his own he has been paying off. As to this letter, it must be some trap of Oxford's, or else this fellow would certainly have asked money for it. But I will give him one more chance." He went on aloud, H Hicnt Squire 427 )n of matters in ■ fault that I feel anxiously. rks, that you took etting rid of one letter. Ycm will ult of yours, the by pure chance, to myself I have ntly due to the iis guard by the y. " Had it not ;n alive and well, i been struck, and : you to recollect as thf justification He was, of course, critics might tak(i secured Gwynett's orrectly — that the ffecl nishness 2d. ' therefore the proceedings at episode at Wray mself and Gwynett led by remarking, I am justified in this unscrupulous ylight in the whole self. " It is some As to this letter, this fellow would will give him one " Certainly, your account puts a different complexion on the affair, M. I'aijbd. In regard to this letter " The duke hesitated, and the abb^ put in promptly, " I have said already, my lord, that that matter is at an end. By placing it in your hands I have, I hope, done you a service. If not, I have at all events fulfilled what I regarded as a sacred duty. I have no more to say, my lord." The duke bowed, took up the letter, and put it in one of the drawers of ihe table. He shut and locked the drawer, and then turned to the abbe. "It only remains for me, M. I'abbd," he remarked, "to express my sense of the way in which you have acted through- out this very interesting affair." The abba's hopes grew roseate at this exordium, and he prepared a modestly deprecatory smile, "It appears to me, M. Gaultier," proceeded the duke, with extreme distinctness of utterance, " that yen are the most damnable scoundrel I ever met in the who e course of my life." The abbd was so petrified with astonishment that he could only stare at the duke in silence. " As to this letter of yours," went on th;. duke, " it is either some childish trick or a clumsy forgery, and I do not believe a single word of your cock-and-bull story about it. But I fully accept your statement as to your share in Mr. Gwynett's disastrous fate, and I givp you my word of honour that if we were over in Holland I would have you hung within a quarter of an hour." The abb^ rose from his chair, perfectly livid, and with his features working convulsively. " My lord," he stammered, " this outrage " The duke got up in his turn, and struck the silver call-bell on the table. "Leave the house, sir!" he thundered, as Cardonnel made a prompt appearance behind the abbe. "Mr. Cardonnel, be good enough to have this blackguard kicked into the street." Gaultier glared murderously from the duke to the secretary, and seemed almost to gasp for breath. Then he picked up his hat, and Cardonnel, in a somewhat gingerly fashion, opened the door. The abbd's lips parted as if he were about to speak, but after a moment's pause he appeared to decide that it was useless. He turned slowly and went out, a mist before his blazing eyes, and his soul bursting BeS=**" 428 H Ikcnt Squire 1 with fury and despair. Cardonnel followed, and closed the door behind him. The duke sat down, and chuckled softly to himself. He took out his snuff-box, and helped himself to a pinch with an air of profound enjoyment. " What an ass ! " he soliloquised. " And really ha had a very passable hand to play, if he had only known it." A door opened and shut, and the duchess came up to him with a letter in her hand. " This has just come from St. Germain," she said. " I heard you were engaged, or I would have brought it to you before." The duke opened the letter, and read : "My dear lord Churchill, I have just made a discovery, of which I think it well you should be informed. Thinking over the escape of Mr. Dorrington from the Bastille, which I reported to you at the time, I was led yesterday to look over our correspondence of 1694 in connection with the Brest aifair. Very niuch to my surprise, I find your letter of May 4th is missing. It is some time since I went through these papers, and I have no explanation to suggest of the disappearance. Melfort." "The devil!" commented the duke, passing the letter to the duchess, " the worthy abbd has been telling part of the truth, at all events." " It must have been stolen ! " cried the duchess, after perusing Melfort's epistle. "I have no doubt of it," replied the duke, "and it happens, by a most charming coincidence, that the thief has just walked out of that door. The stolen letter has been the subject of our last half-hour's conversation." " Good heavens ! " gasped the duchess, " are you serious ? What has become of it ? " " It is in this drawer," replied Marlborough, turning the key in the lock, and bringing out the packet. " My visitor kindly left it with me, as you see." He broke the seals of lady Melfort's letter, and unfolded the cover. It contained a blank sheet of paper. For several seconds the duke sat motionless and silent, looking at the paper with an air of complete stupefaction. The duchess took it from his unresisting fingers, and turned it over. ■d, and closed the 7 to himself. He If to a pinch with ind really he had known it." iss came up to him n," she said. "I brought it to you I think it well you he escape of Mr. lorted to you at the our correspondence air. Very r:iuch to th is missing. It is papers, and I have ince. Melfort." ssing the letter to telling part of the the duchess, after ;, " and it happens, :he thief has just ;ter has been the '* are you serious ? ough, turning the ;ket. " My visitor tter, and unfolded per. ionless and silent, plete stupefaction. ingers, and turned '^«ife. :| ll A blank sheet of paper. -/•aji' /,.'S. I- ill ibii I ' J IU:| I f ' ii ',1 B Ikent Squire 43(^ " I do not understand this," she said, in a puzzled tone. "What does it mean?" The duke did not seem to hear, but gazed vacantly before him. Then, with a little start, he drew a deep breath and raised his head. "It is quite clear," he said hoarsely. "I don't know whether that abbd is duper or duped. But it is certain Oxford has the letter. That accounts for St. John sending me the passport." " You think he knows ? " "Possibly not everything — but enough. Is Kermode gone ? " " I think so. Why ? " " I leave London within ten minutes— that is, if I am not arrested in the meantime. I shall go with Cadogan in the Royal Mary. You must follow me to Antwerp as soon as I arrive there." " I think you are quite right," said the duchess. CHAPTER LI IN WHICH MR. WROTTESLEY IS VERY MUCH SURPRISED Lord Bolingbroke looked up with some little curiosity when the usher opened the door and announced the baron von Starhemberg. He wondered if, by any chance, the visitor would turn out to be bearer of some tentative proposals on the part of general von Starhemberg's master the emperor. The latt was, at the present time, vowing by all his gods that so far frou, agreeing to the peace which was being negotiated at Utrecht, he would fight all Europe sooner than give up his claims to the Spanish monarchy. Lord Bolingbroke rose, bowed politely, motioned the baron to a chair, and waited for him to commence he conversation. " My lord," began the old gentleman, speaking in English slowly and with hesitation, " I must apologise for venturing to trespass upon your time in connection with my private affairs." I am nilitf af vonr CfinTiVp Kqrori A/Tov T ne\r it «»^n would prefer to use French in our conversation ? I am sorry I myself do not speak German." *• If you will excuse my very rusty English, my lord," said I mi •k 430 a llceut Squire the baron, " I should prefer it. I may say that I address myself to you in this matter, rather than to lord Oxford, because I am under the impression that my business may perhaps in some trifling degree be more interesting to you than to him." " Let us hear, at all events, my dear sir." " Your lordship is acquainted, I believe, with the Wray family, of Wray Manor ? " " Very well indeed." "You have also made the acquaintance of squire Wray's ward, mistress Muriel Dorrington ? " " I met her once only — a perfectly charming young lady. She has been disastrously unlucky in some engagement, if 1 recollect right. Was not \iQX fiance hung ? " " Unfortunately, yes. His name was Ambrose Gwynett." " Did you know him ? " " I am his only surviving relative — his uncle." " Dear ! dear ! " ejaculated the viscount sympathetically, and rather at a loss what else to say. " It is in connection with his deplorable fate that I have ventured to ask your advice and assistance." •' What can I do for you, my dear baron ? " " My lord, in the ordinary course of things I should be heir to my nephew's estate of Thornhaugh. But being uncertain as to how far succession to real property in England would be permitted to an alien, my nephew made me his legatee by will. Unfortunately, it appears that in this country a con- viction for felony involves escheatment of all the felon's property to the crown." "That is so, of course." ** May I ask if the forfeiture takes effect ipso facto, or whether some procedure has to be set on foot to establish the claim of the crown ? " "The attorney-general would have to make a formal in- quisition on the part of the crown." " Could I learn whether that has been done ? " " I could find out, I think." " I should be extremely obliged to you." The viscount rang for his clerk, wrote a note, and ordered it to be delivered at once. " Mr. Attorney-General happens to be at the Treasury," he said, resuming his conversation with the baron, " so that we may get his reply at once. Otherwise, there may be a little delay." a Ikent Squtre 43 » th the Wray family, ! of squire Wray's e fate that I have note, and ordered " Perhaps in the meantime, my lord, you will allow me to point out to you some features of this case of my nephew's which seem to have escaped notice. Did you happen to see or hear anything of the details of the supposed crime ? " "I read the news-sheets of the time. Why do you say * supposed crime ' ? " " Because, my lord, I am not only certain that my nephew did not commit the crime for which he was executed, but I am equally certain that no crime was committed at all. For anything we know, the supposed victim may be alive and well at the present moment — in fact, I believe he is." " You amaze me." " Your lordship will recollect that the evidence of murder at all was purely inferential. The body was not forthcoming, nor did any person swear to witnessing it put away, nor was there the slightest direct evidence of a personal encounter between the two men." "I believe you are right, so far. But in that case, what about the sudden disappearance of the missing man ? " "That is very strange, without doubt. But a man ought not to be hung merely because something strange happens— which has been the case with my nephew." " It looks rather like it, I confess." "As to the missing man, many things might conceivably have happened. But my own impression is that he was kidnapped." " Kidnapped ? " " Yes. I have had inquiries made, and I find that a press- gang was at work on the very spot, at the identical time." " Good Lord ! but they could be traced, surely ? " "I believe this gang belonged to the Mermaid, which sailed immediately afterwards for the West Indies." " That is most unfortunate She may be a couple of years away, and heaven only know; Low to get at her. Really, this is a shocking affair." "Do I gather that your lordship agrees with me that a doubt as to my nephew's guilt is possible?" "Gad! I should say so— very grave doubt indeed. In fact, from the little I heard of Mr. Gwynett personally, the thing begins to seem monstrous." The old PPntli^man hnurpH rrrqiralv " I thank you for that expression of opinion, my lord. But you embolden me to make a request." " What is it, my dear sir ? " 1 n r- r f f! I • t|i^ U t ■ f i f 1 i i i 43« B fkcut Squire " I beg your lordship to use your influence to prevent or delay any proceedings for forfeiture against my nephew's estate, until it is possible to ascertain whether or not the supposed murder has actually been committed." " Most certainly I will. In the meantime, I recommend you to act under your nephew's will, and take possession. There is a great deal in being in possession." " I thank you for your good offices." At this moment the clerk knocked, entered, and handed Bolingbroke a letter. The viscount opened it and passed it over to the baron. The paper contained the single word, * Gavelkind.^ " I was an idiot to forget that," remarked the viscount. " You may possibly not be aware, baron, that in several parts of this country, and especially in Kent, we have a peculiar Anglo-Saxon tenure of One of its features is that no attainder for felony the bough, the son to the hanged, but the son "You relieve me ' gavelkind.' follows on As the local proverb says, 'the sire to land called escheatment The father may get plough.' goes on with his sowing and reaping considerably," said the baron. " If I ever knew of this tenure, I had certainly forgotten it." " There is one risk occurs to me," remarked Bolingbroke. " Who is your family lawyer over here ? " " Mr. Peter Wrottesley, of Canterbury." " You had better go to him and ask if the property has, by any chance, been disgavelled by act of parliament. It is exceedingly unlikely. But if so, forfeiture is still open. In that case, rely on me to do my best." The baron rose to take leave. " You have laid me under great obligations, my lord, by your kindly reception, and jHU more kindly assistance." "You are very welcome. 1 am afraid we have made a terrible blunder in this business. Shall you see mistress Dorrington ? " " Can you tell me where she is?" ** If not at Wray Cottage, I have no idea." " I hear no one is there at present." "The Wrays may know. But, unfortunately, they are in America." ** In America ? " " I believe so. There is a Virginian branch of the family, and they are paying a long-promised visit." This information seemed to surprise the baron a good deal. inately, they are in ranch of the family, a 'Rent Squire 433 " What is their address in Virginia, my lord ? " " There you have me. I recollect neither the people nor the place At the moment I cannot think of anyone who could tell you. The baron looked very much disappointed. But after a pause, he thanked the viscount again and took his leave The evenmg of the same day he arrived at Mr. Wrottesley's house m Canterbury, and sent in his name. The lawyer was m his study, smoking and brewing a night-cap of port negus when he was told of the visitor. or*' e . •'Baron von Starhemberg ! " he muttered, in amazement. "Show him m. ' The baron was ushe-ed into the room and received very respectfully by the lawyer, who placed an easy-chair for his guest, and invited him to remove his thick fur overcoat. I am afraid I intrude upon your leisure somewhat late, sir " said the visitor, with his strong German accent. " ^Vu^ contrary, my dear sir, this is the best time to catch me. When did you arrive in England ? " '• Last night. I had some business in London this morning, and came on thence by post." '.' XT°" ""f ^^^^^ ^y ^^"er of last February, I presume ? " u r?°j J ^^^ "°* ^^^""^ y°" ^^^ written to me " God bless my soul ! Then I am afraid you have some terrible news still to learn." " If you mean my nephew's unfortunate fate, sir, I have heard about it, and it is that which brings me here. There are several matters respecting which the newspaper accounts 1 have seen gave no information, and I shall be extremely obliged if you can enlighten me about them." Anything m my power," replied the lawyer, thinking to himself that the old gentleman bore the recent tragedy in the family with remarkable fortitude. a.llL° ^^^'J" ''''^'- "^y "ephew appears to have had no legal assistance at any time between his arrest and his execution, uo you happen to know how that occurred?" frnrv, T * """'^ unfortunate mischance. He wrote to me from gaol as soon as he was well enough to do so, but in the s^mmZAT 5"V^K°''^"S ^"y'^^"g °^ ^'' ^"^^t' I '^-^d been letS^S^in A ^'''}'^''^ o" father prolonged business. The I^i%w!°7f ? "^^^'■^'^ ^'^^ PJ^^e to another, but never reached ...^ i«x .w laie. i returnea to London the night before the the'rSr^ ""'J^'' '^' "^°^^ ^ff^i^ f«^ thi first ?i^e in the small hours of the morning. I posted off to Maidstone 38 M 434 a Ikent Squire M as soon as I could hire a vehicle, but failed to reach the town till an hour after everything was over." " That accounts for it, of course," said the baron. " It happened that I was delayed on the way by a remark- able incident. You have doubtless heard of mistress Muriel Dorrington, to v/hom your nephew was betrothed?" " Certainly." " And of his friend, Noel Wray— son of the old squire at Wray Manor?" " Yes." "Well, sir, when I had got about half-way between Rochester and Maidstone, I met a medical friend of mine belonging to Chatham, who had a patient with him in his carriage. Judge of my amazement when I found it was Noel Wray, unconscious from concussion of the brain. My friend had found hirn lying on the moor, with mistress Dorrington watching him." " Mistress Dorrington ! " " Herself. Noel had been flung from his horse m the dark of the early morning, and had been lying insensible for more than an hour. My friend and his coachman got him into the carriage, and caught the two horses which Noel and mistress Dorrington had been riding. But the young lady, as soon as she found that Noel would receive proper attention at Chatham, had insisted upon going on herself to Maidstone." " To Maidstone ? to the execution ? " " Yes. Of course, it was then long past eight o'clock, and too late to serve any purpose." , ^ , , " But how came they to be there at all ? " asked the baron, who seemed a good deal puzzled by these details. " It is a curious story," went on the lawyer. " I heard it all from Noel and his friend Coverdale afterwards. A good fellow that Coverdale, I can assure you. He found Noel out the next day, and took him off to his Yorkshire stud-farm ; the old squire, you see, wouldn't own him. This is what happened." . The baron listened to the narrative with breathless attention, and the lawyer saw that he was deeply moved at the disastrous termination to the long journey from Dorrington Hall. "That, however, was not the worst of it," continued the lawyer. "The shock of the disappointment, and the know- ledge that her lover's life was being ended while she sat helpless within a few miles of him, seemed to have thrown her mind off its balance. I drove on at once to Maidstone, and learned there that she had come up with the bier on to reach the town the old squire at eight o'clock, and a ment Squire 435 which poor Ambrose's body was lying, as it was being removed from the gaol. She was quite distraught, the folks said, and was persuaded that Ambrc-e was only sleeping." The baron's hands began to tremble at this recital, and he gulped somethmg down his throat spasmodically. "Go on, sir, I beg," he said hoarsely, in a voice which sounded strangely to his listener. "Really," thought the lawyer, "the old gentleman has a good heart, after all. It struck me at first he took the affair mfernally coolly." Then he went on aloud, "The body, sir, as you may have heard, had been ordered to be hung m chams at a place outside Deal, and it was an hour on its way there when I reached Maidstone. They told me mistress Dorrington had been last seen -companying the bier at the outskirts of the town. I could not learn any more of her, so went on to the cross-roads near Deal. I got there long after dark, and found the gibbet erected, the dead body suspended from it, and poor r ress Dorrington lying on the ground underneath it, unconscious, and to all appearance The baron's hand went to his heart with a convulsive clutch and his eyes dilated as he gazed fixedly at the speaker. " There wasn't a soul withm a mile," went on the lawyer not a little gratified at the impression produced by his narrative' but after some trouble I and the driver managed to get the poor young lady, still insensible, into my post-chaise, and we drove on to Wray Cottage. When we got there, it was only to find both the Cottage and the Manor shut up There was nothing for it but to bring her to this house, which we reached the next day." !! ou^ ^^^^ ** " ^^^^^ the baron, in strangled tones. bhe was daft, sir— clean daft," replied the lawyer, with a tremor m his own voice, "and the Lord only knows whether she 11 ever have her wits again." " And where is she now ? " "A couple of weeks afterwards her aunt came down in consequence of a letter of mine, and took her away. That's the last I saw of the poor young lady. It was the sorest job 1 ever had in hand, I assure you, and I've never been the same man since." The baron heard nothing of the last sentpncf», for his h-'H was buried in his hands, and he was sobbing' convulsiveFy! rhe lawyer looked at him with much sympathy, and blew his nose vigorously, ^ ^ ' ■l i It I 436 B "Rent Squire « Damme ! " he remarked to himself, " I did the old gentle- man injustice. He feels^ for the poor girl, I've no doubt, almost as much as I do." , • . He put his hand gently on the other s arm, and said, « I can assure you, my dear sir, if you had only known that young lady you would have taken her to your heart at once She is worthy of any man in the world, and your nephew was worthy of her. He was the finest young fellow I ever met, and no more guilty of the crime he died for than I or you— I'll be d d if he was ! " The baron raised his head, and looked at his host intently. Then he rose, stood erect before the amazed lawyer, and held out his hand. ^ , , ,. « Mr Wrottesley," he said, " I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your goodness to Muriel, and for the words you have this moment uttered." At the >'oice, the lawyer's hair stood on end, and his eyes seemed to start from their sockets. He pushed his chair back, gasping, and looked as if he were going to have a fit. ''God ill heaven ! " he breathed, in a terrified whisper, you are not — not -? " "Yes— it is I." " Ambrose Gwynett ! " CHAPTER LII WHICH EXPLAINS CERTAIN MATTERS In the immensity of his surprise the lawyer gazed speechlessly upon his visitor for several seconds, and allowed the hand outstretched towards him to remain unshaken. Then he jumped up, and grasped it with such fervid enthusiasm that its owner began to think it would never be released. « Gad ! my dear boy," he shouted hilariously, " I see it all. A case of mistaken identity; they hung somebody else instead of you, eh ? " " Not at all, sir," replied Gwynett. "The deuce! then how But stop! you'll join me in a humnpr to celebrate this wonderful meeting?" The lawyer rose to ring the bell, and Gwynett said warningly, " For the baron von Starhemberg, my dear sir, recollect." " Of course — of course." a Ikent Squire 437 The materials f.. a further brew were duly forthcoming and the lawyer, devoured by curiosity, locked the door, and sat down opposite his visitor. " Now, my dear boy, tell me all about it. But first of all, where on earth did you get your mahogany skin and your white hair ? " " They come of several experiments in my uncle's laboratory." " Ah ! so you have been there all the time, eh ? But let us hear your story from the beginning." " There is not much to tell, sir. I daresay you know that I was desperately ill after my arrest, and had previously been rather roughly handled ; so that, what with my injuries first and the gaol-fever afterwards, I was in a fair way to cheat the hangman in any case." "So I learned the night of my return." " I fancy I was off my head most of the time just previous to the execution, and I recollect very little, except finding rnyself assisted on to the gallows. But the moment I got there I saw a face among the crowd that went through me like a knife— the man who, for some devil's game of his own, fixed the supposed crime at the ' Crown and Anchor ' upon me. " I have heard nothing of all that. But go on." "Within a moment of recognising the man I speak of, I felt suddenly faint, and must have had a sort of cataleptic seizure, for that is the last I recollect of the business. Of the execution itself and the rest of the proceedings, you know more than I do." "This is amazing," said the lawyer. "And when did vou come to yourself again ? " " About midnight, I fancy. My first consciousness was of being swung violently about, and the idea flashed through my mmd that I was in the middle of being hung. A very unpleasant idea it was, I can assure you." ° ^ " Good Lord ! " ejaculated the lawyer. .n"'^!;''" i ^""""l', ^''^ °^ ^"' that I could breathe easily enough, and secondly, that I was suffering excruciating agony m every inch of my body-so much so that I yelled oSt at the top of my voice. At the same time I opened my eyes c 0.?^";^°'' f^K ' ^""^ \ '^^ ^ g'°"P °f ^°"^ ^e" standing close to the gibbet, nearly frightened to death." (jaa ! I don't wonder at that." "When they had found their wits again they grasped the position of affairs, got me down from the gibbet, and extricated i „ ' ■■ * '1 r i ' ■»:# |i!< 4 " 11 r ^38 a mcnt Squire me from the iron frame by means of some tools they happened to have found close by. Then I learned that, thanks to these men, I had had a double escape of the narrowest possible cli3.r3.ctcr. " Gwvnett narrated the stratagem by which the body-snatchers' intended theft of his remains had been defeated, mention of which has already been made in this history. " It happened," he went on, " that I felt very much better when I was rescued from the gibbet than I had felt for weeks I fancy the change to the fresh sea-air after the pestilential stenches of the gaol had a good deal to do with it. The worthy smugglers— that is their occupation, strictly between ourselves— primed me with some excellent liquor to start with, and then took me in a pony-trap to their lugger at Sandwich. There they gave me a salt-water bath, fed me like a fighting- cock, and played the good Samaritans to admiration. I think the pleasure of cheating both the hangman and the body- snatchers was one they found quite delightful in its novelty. "I'll never hear another word against smugglers as long as I live," averred the lawyer. "And how long did you stay there?" , "They were running over to France a couple ot aays afterwards," preceded Gwynett, "and offered to take me with them, as the safest thing for me. But some mixed-up story they told me, of a young lady who encountered the party with the bier in the streets of Maidstone, made me determine at all hazards to find out if it was Muriel whom they had seen. I need not tell you I had not heard a single word from anyone while in gaol." " I don't quite understand that." " For one thing, my letter to you was the only one I was able to write myself, and the gaolers could neither read nor write. Nor did I know whether Muriel had rettirned to Wray Cottage or not. The evening after my rescue I found myself able to walk without much difficulty, so I got the smugglers to drive me in their pony-trap within a mile of the Cottage, and then walked on." _ " Of course, you found the place as we did— m charge of the caretaker ? " "No; the door was open, but there was nobody there. I went in, and sat down fbr a few minutes to rest, feeling rather done up. There was a sharp thunderstorm while I was there, and I waited till it was over. Then I went away, rejoined the trap at the entranc ^0 the wood, and was taken Dols they happened at, thanks to these narrowest possible the body-snatchers' ifeated, mention of Dry. t very much better had felt for weeks, fter the pestilential I do with it. The n, strictly between liquor to start with, lugger at Sandwich, me hke a fighting- imiration. I think lan and the body- ul in its novelty." smugglers as long how long did you a couple of days iffered to take me But some mixed-up :ountered the party Tiade me determine bom they had seen. ; word from anyone the only one I was Id neither read nor ;1 had ret'irned to my rescue I found :ulty, so I got the p within a mile of i did — in charge of was nobody there, ites to rest, feeling Linderstorm while I Then I went away, vood, and was taken a Ikeut Squire 459 back to the lugger. The next morning they very kindly went and fetched some of my clothes from the ' Crown and Anchor where they had remained ever since the night when that mfernal scoundrel raised the house on me." "I should like to hear about that," said the lawyer "for I rSed"^'^^""" "^^^^ ^^^'^ "°'" ^^" °^ ^^^ ^°'''P ^^""^ ^^^ frn^T"^^"!?/^?/'^'^' ? '^.P^^' *^^ incidents of his commission from lady Melfort, the shots fired at Wray Cottage after the lawyer had left Muriel and himself together, the rSeeting with Dornngton, and the eventful night at the inn. The recital filled the lawyer with amazement and boundless indignation. 1 never heard of such a trick in all my born days," he fumed after exhaustmg all the execrations in his vocabulary, But" o on^^^ ^^ ^°'^""^ *° '^^ ^^^ fellow swing for it. "Unfortunately," proceeded Gwynett, "they brought me Dornngton s overcoat from the inn instead of my own cloak, mis ed by the fact of my having worn it that night. Thev^ T^L Tu^\ ?' ?"' ^"^ ^""°"^« °^ "^y ^1°'-^^, which is a pity. The letter I was entrusted with must have been of some consequence and it was stowed away in a little pocket of^the cloak which I used for such purposes" Let that flea stick in the wall," remarked the lawyer philosophically. "It seems to me you may thank that iX wL. '"^/1" ^"^ ^^^^' ^"^ getting you into all the trouble, vvnat next about your smuggling friends ? " "They sailed for the Somme the following day, and the good fellows made me pocket ten pounds to ftart me in ife oHust ce T\ S' '"""^' \ ^^^ ^^^" ^°bb^d in the iourse Anrhnr ' T. ^" '^' T""^ ^ ^^^ ^ad at the ' Crown and hnnS .K ^PP^Y'u ^^^^ °"^ °'' ^h^ brothers is now the S r^ltifuri'n.'' "' '' "^"^' '' ^^"^'^^^ '' ' -- ^- - "Had you any notion what to do or where to go ?" unrlf ^'T ^' T^ *^°,"Sht in the first instance of going to my the s'to^v n? t? '°"^^ ^T"^ "P°" *° ^^^^P^ "^y v^^-^ion of than D Lh T 'rPPT^ '^'''^^'- ^"^^^'^"g French better li .u ' J P'^eferred to reach Munich by way of France mther than by the Netherlands. I passed through Par's Sl"S "Zf °^ '^' ^^y. Just after those deaths in ?he rovai narrow /n ^^' were ^ good deal upset there, and I had 'so Torcy that fSf ^/^^"'"S recognised one night by M. de lorcy, that I left at dawn the next morning." iftiffTfflrfyi li i J 440 a Ikent Squire A portion of Gwynett'j narrative at this point referred to the attack on the due d'O.^^ans' carriage, and his own share in rescuing that gentleman from his assailants, together with details of the remainder of his journey to Bavaria, in which the reader would find nothing of interest. "My uncle," he went on, "received me with open arms, and recommended me to resume my life with him as if nothing had happened. He argued that my rescue was so utterly improbable, that if the circumstances of the trial and execution transpired, everyone would take for granted it was a mere coincidence of name, and consequently never dream of suspecting my connection with the affair. On the other hand, I pointed out to him that I had no private income apart from my interest in Thornhaugh, and that if he did not claim the property as my heir, it would be lost altogether. '[ " A very neat quandary," commented the lawyer, with pro- fessional interest. "What did you decide?" " Eventually we agreed to invent a supposititious cousin of mine of the same name, executed for a political offence, who would pass muster in Bavaria. But my uncle must claim Thornhaugh, in order to pass the income from it over to me, and this is partly the occasion of my visit." " Then you propose to accept your own decease? " " Is there any help for it ? " " I am afraid not. Luckily, there is no forfeiture." "So lord Bolingbroke supposed— I came from him this morning. I had forgotten the gavelkind tenure, and went to him to ask for a stay of inquisition." "You need not trouble about that. But we shall want papers from your uncle." "I have brought a whole bundle from the electoral di3.ncGllGriG» "That is all right. But what on earth possessed you to run the risk of coming over here in person, even with this disguise of yours ? " " It was chiefly to obtain news of Muriel, and I am terribly disappointed by your account of matters. But I suppose we can ascertain her present whereabouts?" " I doubt it. The aunt came here like a legion of furies, and I gathered from what she said that the old squire was, if possible, a little more outrageous than herself— swore he'd disinherit Noel, and the rest of it. As regards myself, the first I heard was that he had changed his solicitor, and the next that he had taken his niece out to Virginia. Of Noel !•'.' M a ftent Squire 441 But we shall want "rom the electoral I have heard nothing since Coverdale walked off with him, and I don't know Coverdale's address." " Who is the new Wray solicitor ? " 'They won't tell me. I sent all the estate papers and book.-' to the Manor, and that ended matters. You may not believe it, but I was so furious at the affair that I did not even sen.-i in my bill. I confess I scarcely see where you can begm your search— apart from the risk." " There is no risk worth speaking of." " Don't be so cock-sure. No man can keep up a part for even Some day you will straighten your back and talk like an Englishman, and it will be all up with you." *^ Possibly. But I must run the risk, whatever it be." I beg your pardon. You may run the risk, if you choose But if you are detected, and hung over again, how is that to benefit mistress Dorrington ? Even if you found her, to approach her as a stranger would arouse inquiry, and 'any inquiry would be dangerous." " Can you suggest anything better ? " "Certainly. Go back, and leave the matter in my hands —1 will do whatever is possible, and I can do it quite safely.' ^ " It is very good of you. I will, at all events, think over your offer. Now as to the property? I suppose you can proceed under my will, on behalf of my uncle ? " " Yes. There is no occasion to perjure myself about youi decease, as the gaol record is sufficient. I will look through your uncle's papers, and see if they are complete. Then I strongly recommend you to get out of England at once— it IS no use running utterly needless risks." " There is one other thing I had in view " " What is that ? " " To set on foot inquiries about Mr. Dorrington— especially m connection with the Mermaid's press-gang." ^ "Of course. That, again, I can see to much better than After some further chat on business matters, Gwynett accepted the lawyer's offer of a bed, and a little later both retired for the night. The next morning the baron von Starhemberg's papers were overhauled and found to he in nrdpr cq for as could be decided at that stage of the proceedings. The rest of me day was spent in a futile attempt to get news at Wray Manor and the Cottage, after which lawyer and client drove ]^: \m i: t • if i i n 1 j ii " i ^ n k> 44a H Ikent Squire to Dover, where they put up at a tavern till the following morning. After breakfast the next day they directed their steps to the waterside to inquire about a passage to Calais. A boat containing a passenger was just putting off to a schooner which lay at anchor a little way out, her sails spread for an impending departure. Gwynett thought he recognised two of the Kermodes pulling the dinghy, and asked a fisherman standing near what was the schooner's name. "They call her the Jioyal Mary, your honour. She's taking the duke of Marlborough to Antwerp— that's him in the dinghy. He came here yesterday, but couldn't start for the fog." The dinghy reached the schooner, and the duke went on board. The Jioyai Mary weighed anchor, and before long was heading under a fresh breeze for the Dutch coast. About an hour later Gwynett found a fisherman who was willing to convey him across the Channel, and after a warm parting with the lawyer he took his seat in the lugger, and started on his passage to Calais. The Royal Mary was just sinking below the horizon. * * • ♦ * Five days afterwards M, de lorcy was in his cabinet, awaiting his usual summons from madame de Maintenon, when his secretary Lavalaye entered with despatches from the Low Countries and Vienna, where the French government had confidential agents. At a sign from de Torcy he proceeded to open them and to intimate the contents to the marquis. After running iiis eye through the despatch from Vienna, the secretary said, " It appears that Zinzindorff has announced the emperor's final determination to continue the war, and to ignore altogether any arrangement that may be come to at Utrecht between the other powers." Zinzindorff was the imperial chancellor. The marquis shrugged his shoulders, and asked, as he took the paper handed to him by Lavalaye, •* Does the letter from Utrecht confirm that ? " Lavalaye opened the other despatch, glanced over it, and read aloud, "The duke of Marlborough arrived at Antwerp this morning, quite unexpectedly and unattended." "Nothing more?" "That is all." *V-«tt**^tMM till the following S 'Rent SqiUre 443 "And quite enough," said the marquis to himself "Evi- dently these thmgs hang together. He has sold us, after all It IS about time to spike that gun, I think." He turned to Lavalaye, and asked, " Where is that letter of the duke's ? " OxfoTd?"''''^ ""^ ^°°^ ^'°"' ^""^^ Melfort's enclosure to lord " Yes." Lavalaye werit to a desk, brought out a letter, and handed It to the marquis. " That is it," said de Torcy. " Enclose it to M. Randolph Domngton, at the address in London I gave you. Let it be sent at once by a special messenger, and be sure to urge every possible precaution. It is impossible to say how much may depend on that scrawl reaching its destination safe and "You think it is of importance, then, monsieur ? " " I think it may alter history a little, my dear Rend." at Antwerp this %'Bnvoi From a later portion of the records laid under contrihnHon by the present chronicler, it would appear tharnT Torrv^^ prediction was somewhat notably ful^Ied-ahhough in a wL in% ^Tu """"'"> ""''y ^^' f'°«^ expecting ^ ^ ""^^ per^llV^oT'this hi^^^^^ °'^" T"'^^ ^^^^^^"S '^' --"°"^ referencf ^' 'P^*"^ "^"^^ "°' ^^mit of further It W.U suffice to him that in the course of his connection 'i i 444 a Ikcnt Squfre (not a very willing one) with the desperate intrigues set on foot after the establishment of the Hanoverian dynasty in Britain, and the regency in France, he was involved in a continuous series of adventures from which, on several occasions, he barely escaped with his life. It may, perhaps, be added, that to his share in certain of these episodes the future of both the Guelph and Bourbon dynasties was measurably indebted— and none the less because in the affair of the Stuart rebellion of 17 15, and in certain strange and terrible matters affecting the comtesse de Valincour, the woman Latour, Sanson the executioner, and the mysterious pbre Germont, his aid towards the safe-guarding of the state and the doing of justice was of a kind that did not admit of public avowal. But although the bulk of the further records in question prevents them being here placed before the reader, he may reasonably expect to learn that, after much chequered fortune and misfortune, the houses of Gwynett and Wray found mistresses in the persons of Muriel and Avice, and that it was many long years before the manor of Dorrington passed, by the death of its venerable lord, to his son-in-law the squire of Thornhaugh. With this announcement the chronicler makes his bow, and is gone. re sperate intrigues set on Hanoverian dynasty in he was involved in a im which, on several life. share in certain of these and Bourbon dynasties the less because in the and in certain strange itesse de Valincour, the er, and the mysterious fe-guarding of the state d that did not admit of er records in question re the reader, he may uch chequered fortune nett and Wray found nd Avice, and that it of Dorrington passed, is son-in-law the squire nicler makes his bow,