"Stay!" pleaded Buckingham, still fearful. "We can ourselves entice some adventurous spirit up Nell's terrace, then trap him. So our end is reached."

"Aye," replied the d.u.c.h.ess, in milder mood, realizing that she had been over-hasty at least in speech, "the minx presumes to love the King, and so is honest! But of her later. The treaties! He shall sign to-night--to-night, I say."

With a triumphant air, she pointed to the quills and sand upon a table in readiness for his signing.

Buckingham smiled approvingly; and in his smile lurked flattery so adroit that it pleased the d.u.c.h.ess despite herself.

"Lord Hyde, St. Albans and the rest," said he, "are here to aid the cause."

"Bah!" answered Portsmouth, with a shrug. "In the field, men; at court, women! This girl has outwitted you all. I must accomplish my mission alone. Charles must be Louis's pensioner in full; England the slave of France! My fortune--_Le Grand Roi's_ regard--hang upon it."

Buckingham cautioned her with a startled gesture.

"Nay," smiled Portsmouth, complacently, "I may speak frankly, my lord; for your head is on the same block still with mine."

"And my heart, Louise," he said, in admiration. "Back to the King! Do nothing rash. We will banish thy rival, dear hostess."

He did not add, save in thought, that Nell's banishment, if left to him, would be to his own country estate.

There was almost a touch of affection in the d.u.c.h.ess's voice as she prepared to join the King.

"Leave all to me, my lord," she said, then courtesied low.

"Yea, all but Nell!" reflected his lordship, as he watched her depart.

"With this ring, I'll keep thee wedded to jealous interest, and so enrich my purse and power. Thou art a great woman, fair France; I half love thee myself. But thou knowest only a moiety of my purpose. The other half is Nell!"

He stood absorbed in his own thoughts.

The draperies at the further doorway, on which was worked in Gobelin tapestry a forest with its grand, imposing oaks, were pushed nervously aside. Jack Hart entered, mask in hand, and scanned the room with skeptic eye.

"A happy meeting," mused Buckingham, reflecting upon Hart's one-time ardour for Mistress Nell and upon the possibility that that ardour, if directed by himself, might yet compromise Nell in the King's eyes and lead to the realization of his own fond dreams of greater wealth and power and, still more sweet, to the possession of his choice among all the beauties of the realm.

"It is a sad hour," thought Hart, glancing at the merry dancers through the arch, "when all the world, like players, wear masks."

Buckingham a.s.sumed an air of bonhomie.

"Whither away, Master Hart?" he called after the player, who started perceptibly at his voice. "Let not thy fancy play truant to this gay a.s.semblage, to mope in St. James's Park."

"My lord!" exclaimed Hart, hotly. The fire, however, was gone in an instant; and he added, evidently under strong constraint: "Pardon; but we prefer to change the subject."

"The drift's the same," chuckled the shrewd Buckingham; "we may turn it to advantage." He approached the player in a friendly manner. "Be not angry," he exclaimed soothingly; "for there's a rift even in the clouds of love. Brighter, man; for King Charles was seeking your wits but now."

"He'd have me play court-fool for him?" asked the melancholy mime, who had in his nature somewhat of the cynicism of Jaques, without his grand imaginings of soul. "There are many off the stage, my lord, in better practice." "True, most true," acquiesced Buckingham; "I could point them out."

He would have continued in this vein but beyond the door, whence Hart had just appeared, leading by a stair-way of cupids to the entrance to the palace, arose the sound of many voices in noisy altercation.

"Hark ye, hark!" he exclaimed, in an alarmed tone. "What is't? Confusion in the great hallway below. We'll see to't."

He had a.s.sumed a certain supervision of the palace for the night. With the player as a body-guard, he accordingly made a hasty exit.

CHAPTER XII

_Beau Adair is my name._

The room was not long vacant. The hostess herself returned. She was radiant.

As she crossed the threshold, she glanced back proudly at the revellers, who, led by his Majesty, were turning night into day with their merry-making. She had the right, indeed, to be proud; for the evening, though scarce half spent, bespoke a complete triumph for her entertainment. This was the more gratifying too, in that she knew that there were many at court who did not wish the "imported" d.u.c.h.ess, as they called her, or her function well, though they always smiled sweetly at each meeting and at each parting and deigned now to feast beyond the limit of gentility upon her rich wines and collations.

The _bal masque_, however, as we have seen, was with the d.u.c.h.ess but a means to an end. She took from the hand of a pretty page the treaties, lately re-drawn by Bouillon, and glanced hastily over the parchments to see that her instructions from Louis were covered by their words. A smile played on her arching lips as she read and re-read and realized how near she was to victory.

"'Tis Portsmouth's night to-night!" she mused. "My great mission to England is nearly ended. Dear France, I feel that I was born for thy advancement."

She seated herself by the table, where the materials for writing had been placed, and further dwelt upon the outcome of the royal agreements, their contingencies and triumphs. She could write Charles Rex almost as well as the King, she thought, as her eye caught the places left for his signature.

"Bouillon never fails me," she muttered. "Drawn by King Charles's consent, except perchance some trifling articles which I have had interlined for Louis's sake. We need not speak of them. It would be troublesome to Charles. A little name and seal will make these papers history."

Her reflections were interrupted by the return of Buckingham, who was laughing so that he could scarcely speak.

"What is 't?" she asked, petulantly.

"The guard have stayed but now a gallant, Irish youth," replied he, as best he could for laughter, "who swore that he had letters to your highness. Oh, he swore, indeed; then pleaded; then threatened that he would fight them all with single hand. Of course, he won the ladies'

hearts, as they entered the great hall, by his boyish swagger; but not the guards. Your orders were imperative--that none unbidden to the ball could enter."

"'Tis well," cried Portsmouth. "None, none! Letters to me! Did he say from whom?"

"He said," continued Buckingham, still laughing, "that he was under orders of his master to place them only in the d.u.c.h.ess's hands. Oh, he is a very lordly youth."

The Duke throughout made a sad attempt at amusing imitations of the brogue of the strange, youthful, Irish visitor who, with so much importunity, sought a hearing.

Portsmouth reflected a moment and then said: "I will see him, Buckingham, but briefly."

Buckingham, not a little surprised, bowed and departed graciously to convey the bidding.

The d.u.c.h.ess lost herself again in thought. "His message may have import," she reflected. "Louis sends strange messengers ofttimes."

In the midst of her reverie, the tapestry at the door was again pushed back, cautiously this time, then eagerly. There entered the prettiest spark that ever graced a kingdom or trod a measure.

It was Nell, accoutred as a youth; and a bold play truly she was making.

Her face revealed that she herself was none too sure of the outcome.

"By my troth," she thought, as she glanced uncomfortably about the great room, "I feel as though I were all breeches." She shivered. "It is such a little way through these braveries to me."

Her eyes turned involuntarily to the corner where Portsmouth sat, now dreaming of far-off France.