"Keep such expressions of Respect," he said almost roughly, "for one who is worthy."

"You," I riposted simply, "are infinitely worthy, because You are good."

Then once again his harsh, mirthless Laugh-so unlike his usual light-hearted Merriment-grated upon mine ear.

"Good!" he exclaimed. "Nay, friend Honeywood, You are not, meseems, a master of intuition. Few Hearts in London this night," he added earnestly, "harbour such evil Desires as mine."

But in spite of what he said, in spite of that strange look in his eyes, that Laugh which proclaimed a perturbed Soul, I could not bring myself to believe that his n.o.ble Heart was a Prey to aught but n.o.ble Desires, and that those awful and subtle Schemes of deadly Revenge which have subsequently threatened to ruin his own Life were even now seething in his Brain.

For the moment, I only remembered that when first he had requested me to accompany him on his evening Peregrinations, it had been with a view to visiting the Countess of Castlemaine, and I now reminded him of his Purpose, thinking that his desire had been to beg for my Lord Stour's pardon. I did so, still insisting upon her Ladyship's avowed Predilection for himself, and I noticed that while I spoke thus he smiled grimly to himself and presently said with slow Deliberation:

"Aye! Her Ladyship hath vowed that out of Grat.i.tude for his public Eulogy of her Virtue and her Beauty, she would grant Mr. Thomas Betterton any Favour he might ask of her."

"Aye! and her Ladyship is not like to go back on her word," I a.s.sented eagerly.

"Therefore," he continued, not heeding me, "the Countess of Castlemaine, who in her turn can obtain any Favour she desires from His Majesty the King, will at my request obtain a full and gracious Pardon for the Earl of Stour."

"She will indeed!" I exclaimed, puzzled once more at this strange trait of Magnanimity-Weakness, I called it-on the part of a Man who had on two occasions been so monstrously outraged. "You are a hero, Sir," I added in an awed whisper, "to think of a pardon for your most deadly Enemy."

He turned and looked me full in the eyes. I could scarce bear his Glance, for there seemed to dwell within its glowing depths such a World of Misery, of Hatred and of thwarted Pa.s.sion, that my Soul was filled with dread at the sight. And he said very slowly:

"You are wrong there, my Friend. I was not thinking of a pardon for mine Enemy, but of Revenge for a deadly Insult, which it seems cannot be wiped out in Blood."

5

I would have said something more after that, for in truth my Heart was full of Sympathy and of Love for my Friend and I longed to soothe and console him, as I felt I could do, humble and unsophisticated though I was. Thoughts of You, dear Mistress, were running riot in my Brain. I longed at this momentous hour, when the Fate of many Men whom I knew was trembling in the balance, to throw myself at Mr. Betterton's feet and to conjure him in the name of all his most n.o.ble Instincts to give up all thoughts of the proud Lady who had disdained him and spurned his Affections, and to turn once more to the early and pure Love of his Life-to You, dear Mistress, whose Devotion had been so severely tried and yet had not been found wanting, and whose influence had always been one of Gentleness and of Purity.

But, seeing him sitting there brooding, obviously a Prey to Thoughts both deep and dark, I did not dare speak, and remained silent in the hope that, now that I was settled under his roof, an Opportunity would occur for me to tell him what weighed so heavily on my Heart.

Presently the Servant came in and brought Supper, and Mr. Betterton sat down to it, bidding me with perfect Grace and Hospitality to sit opposite to him. But we neither of us felt greatly inclined to eat. I was hungry, it is true; yet every Morsel which I conveyed to my mouth cost me an effort to swallow. This was all the more remarkable as at the moment my whole Being was revelling in the Succulence of the fare spread out before me, the Excellence of the Wine, the snowy Whiteness of the Cloths, the Beauty of Crystal and of Silver, all of which bore testimony to the fastidious Taste and the Refinement of the great Artist.

Of the great Events which were even then shaping themselves in White Hall, we did not speak. We each knew that the Other's mind was full of what might be going on even at this hour. But Mr. Betterton made not a single Reference to it, and I too, therefore, held my tongue. In fact, we spoke but little during Supper, and as I watched my dearly loved Friend toying with his food, and I myself felt as if the next mouthful would choke me, I knew his Mind was far away.

It was fixed upon White Hall and its stately Purlieus and upon the house of the Countess of Castlemaine, which overlooked the Privy Gardens, and of His Majesty the King. His senses, I knew, were strained to catch the sound of distant Murmurs, of running Footsteps, of the grinding of Arms or of pistol shots.

But not a Sound came to disturb the peaceful Silence of this comfortable Abode. The Servant came and went, bringing food, then clearing it away, pouring Wine into our gla.s.ses, setting and removing the silver Utensils.

Anon Mr. Betterton and I both started and furtively caught one another's Glance. The tower clock of Westminster was striking eleven.

"For Good or for Evil, all is over by now," Mr. Betterton said quietly.

"Come, friend Honeywood; let's to bed."

I went to bed, but not to sleep. For hours I lay awake, wondering what had happened. Had the Conspirators succeeded and was His Majesty a Prisoner in their hands? or were they themselves Captives in that frowning Edifice by the Water, which had witnessed so many Deaths and such grim Tragedies, and from which the only Egress led straight to the Scaffold?

CHAPTER XI

RUMOURS AND CONJECTURES

1

Very little of what had actually occurred came to the ear of the Public.

In fact, not one Man in ten in the whole of the Cities of London and Westminster knew that a couple of hours before midnight, when most simple and honest Citizens were retiring to their beds, a batch of dangerous Conspirators had been arrested even within the Precincts of White Hall.

I heard all that there was to know from Mr. Betterton, who went out early the following Morning and returned fully informed of the events of the preceding Night. Subsequently too, I gleaned a good deal of information through the instrumentality of Mistress Floid. As far as I could gather, the Conspirators did carry out their Project just as they had decided on it in my Presence. They did a.s.semble in King Street and in the by-lanes leading out of it, keeping my Lady Castlemaine's House in sight, whilst others succeeded in Concealing themselves about the Gardens of White Hall, no doubt with the Aid of treacherous and suborned Watchmen.

The striking of the hour of ten was to be the signal for immediate and concerted Action. Those in the Gardens stood by on the watch, until after His Majesty the King had walked across from his Palace to Her Ladyship's House. His Majesty, as was his wont when supping with Lady Castlemaine, entered her house by the back door, and his Servants followed him into the house.

Then the Conspirators waited for the Hour to strike. Directly the last clang of church bells had ceased to reverberate through the humid evening air, they advanced both from the Back and the Front of the House simultaneously, when they were set upon on the one side by a Company of His Majesty's Body Guard under the Command of Major Sachvrell, who had remained concealed inside the Palace, and on the other by a Company of Halberdiers under the Command of Colonel Powick.

When the Traitors were thus confronted by loyal Troops, they tried to put up a Fight, not realizing that such measures had been taken by Major Sachvrell and Colonel Powick that they could not possibly hope to escape.

A scuffle ensued, but the Conspirators were very soon overpowered, as indeed they were greatly outnumbered. The Neighbourhood-even then slumbering peacefully-did no more than turn over in bed, marvelling perhaps if a party of Mohocks on mischief bent had come in conflict with a Posse of Night-watchmen. The Prisoners were at once marched to the Tower, despite the Rain which had once more begun to fall heavily; and during the long, wearisome Tramp through the City, their Ardour for Conspiracies and Intrigues must have cooled down considerably.

The Lieutenant of the Tower had everything ready for the Reception of such exalted Guests; for in truth my Lady Castlemaine had not allowed things to be done by halves. Incensed against her Enemies in a manner in which only an adulated and spoilt Woman can be, she was going to see to it that those who had plotted against her should be as severely dealt with as the Law permitted.

2

Later on, I had it from my friend, Mistress Floid, that the Lady Barbara Wychwoode visited the Countess of Castlemaine during the course of the morning. She arrived at her Ladyship's House dressed in black and with a Veil, as if of mourning, over her fair Hair.

Mistress Floid hath oft told me that the Interview between the two Ladies was truly pitiable, and that the Lady Barbara presented a heart-rending Spectacle. She begged and implored her Ladyship to exercise Mercy over a few young Hotheads, who had been misled into Wrong-doing by inflammatory Speeches from Agitators, these being naught but paid Agents of the Dutch Government, she averred, set to create Discontent and if possible Civil War once again in England, so that Holland might embark upon a War of Revenge with some Certainty of Success.

But the Countess of Castlemaine would not listen to the Pet.i.tion at all, and proud Lady Barbara Wychwoode then flung herself at the other Woman's feet and begged and implored for Pardon for her Brother, her Lover and her Friends. Mistress Floid avers that my Lady Castlemaine did nothing but laugh at the poor Girl's pleadings, saying in a haughty, supercilious Manner:

"Beauty in tears? 'Tis a pretty sight, forsooth! But had your Friends succeeded in their d.a.m.nable Plot, would You have shed tears of sympathy for Me, I wonder?"

And I could not find it in me to be astonished at my Lady Castlemaine's Spitefulness, for in truth the Lady Barbara's Friends had plotted her Disgrace and Ruin. Not only that, they had taken every opportunity of vilifying her Character and making her appear as odious in the Eyes of the People as they very well could.

You must not infer from this, dear Mistress, that I am upholding my Lady Castlemaine in any way. Her mode of life is abhorrent to me and I deeply regret her Influence over His Majesty and over the public Morals of the Court Circle, not to say of the entire Aristocracy and Gentry. I am merely noting the fact that human Nature being what it is, it is not to be wondered at that when the Lady had a Chance of hitting back, she did so with all her Might, determined to lose nothing of this stupendous Revenge.

However secret the actual Arrest of the Conspirators was kept from public Knowledge, it soon transpired that such great and n.o.ble Gentlemen as Lord Teammouth, Lord Douglas Wychwoode, the Earl of Stour, not to mention others, were in the Tower, and that a sensational Trial for Conspiracy and High Treason was pending.

Gradually the History of the Plot had leaked out, and how it had become abortive owing to an anonymous Denunciation (for so it was called). The Conspiracy became the talk of the Town. Several Ladies and Gentlemen, though not directly implicated in the Affair, but of known ultra-Protestant views, thought it best to retire to their Country Estates, ostensibly for the benefit of their Health.

Sinister Rumours were afloat that the Conspirators would be executed without Trial-had already suffered the extreme Penalty of the Law; that the Marquis of Sidbury, Father of Lord Douglas Wychwoode, had suddenly died of Grief; that Torture would be applied to the proletarian Accomplices of the n.o.ble Lords-of whom there were many-so as to extract further Information and Denunciations from them. In fact, the Town seethed with Conjectures; People talked in Whispers and dispersed at sight of any one who was known to belong to the Court Circle. The Theatres played to empty Benches, the Exchanges and Shops were deserted, for no one liked to be abroad when Arrests and Prosecutions were in the Air.

Through it all, very great Sympathy was evinced for the Lady Barbara Wychwoode, whose pretty Face was so well-known in Town and whose Charm of Manner and kindly Disposition had endeared her to many who had had the privilege of her Acquaintance. Public Opinion is a strange and unaccountable Factor in the Affairs of Men, and Public Opinion found it terribly hard that so young and adulated a Girl as was the Lady Barbara should at one fell swoop lose Brother, Lover and Friends. And I may truly say that Satisfaction was absolutely genuine and universal when it became known presently that the young Earl of Stour had received a full and gracious Pardon for his supposed Share in the abominable Plot.