Mistress Nell - Part 33
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Part 33

That night, at the Rainbow Tavern, well out of reach of the town, of court spies and gossips, Louis would have a trusted one in waiting. His commission was to receive news from various points and transmit it secretly to France. It was a ride of but a few hours to him.

She had purposed to send the packet by her messenger in waiting; but he had rendered her suspicious by his speech and action in the late afternoon, and she questioned whether she would be wise in trusting him.

Nor was she willing to risk her triumph in the hands of Buckingham's courier. It was too dear to her.

Indeed, she was clever enough to know that state-secrets are often safer in the custody of a disinterested stranger than in the hands of a friend, especially if the stranger be truly a stranger to the court.

She glanced quickly in the direction of Nell, who looked the ideal of daring youth, innocent, honest and true to the death.

"Why not?" she thought quickly, as she reflected again upon Rochet's words, "to be trusted." "Of Irish descent, no love for the King, young, brave, no court ties; none will suspect or stay him."

Her woman's intuition said "yes." She turned upon Nell and asked, not without agitation in her voice:

"Can I trust you?"

Nell's sword was out in an instant, glistening in the light, and so promptly that the d.u.c.h.ess started. Nell saluted, fell upon one knee and said, with all the exuberance of audacious, loving youth:

"My sword and life are yours."

Portsmouth looked deeply into Nell's honest eyes. She was convinced.

"This little packet," said she, in subdued tones, summoning Nell to her side, "a family matter merely, must reach the Rainbow Tavern, on the Canterbury Road, by sunrise, where one is waiting. You'll find his description on the packet."

Nell sheathed her sword.

"I know the place and road," she said, earnestly, as she took the papers from the d.u.c.h.ess's hand and placed them carefully in her doublet.

A rustle of the curtains indicated that some one had returned and was listening by the arras.

"Hush!" cautioned Portsmouth. "Be true, and you will win my love."

Nell did not reply, save to the glance that accompanied the words.

s.n.a.t.c.hing her hat from a chair on which she had tossed it, she started eagerly in the direction of the great stairs that led to the hallway below, where, an hour since, she had been at first refused admission to the palace. Could she but pa.s.s again the guards, all would be well; and surely there was now no cause for her detention. Yet her heart beat tumultuously--faster even than when she presented herself with Rochet's letter written by herself.

As she was hastening by the arras, her quick eye, however, recognized the King's long plume behind it; and she halted in her course. She was alert with a thousand maddening thoughts crowding her brain, all in an instant.

"The King returned--an eavesdropper!" she reflected. "Jealous of Portsmouth; his eyes follow her. Where are his vows to Nell? I'll defame Nell's name, drag her fair honour in the mire; so, Charles, we'll test your manliness and love."

She recrossed the room quickly to Portsmouth.

"Madame," she exclaimed, in crisp, nervous tones, loud enough for the King's ear, "I have been deceiving, lying to you. I stood here, praising, honouring Eleanor Gwyn--an apple rotten to the core!"

"How now?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Charles, in an undertone.

His carelessness vanished upon the instant. Where he had waited for the single ear of Portsmouth, he became at once an earnest listener.

Nell paused not.

"I had a friend who told me he loved Nell. I loved that friend. G.o.d knows I loved him."

"Yes, yes!" urged Portsmouth, with eagerness.

"A man of n.o.ble name and princely mien," continued Nell, so standing that the words went, like arrows, straight to the King's ear and heart, "a man of honour, who would have died fighting for Nell's honour--"

"Misled youth," muttered Portsmouth.

Nell seemed not to hear the words.

"Who, had he heard a murmur of disapproval, a shadow cast upon her name, would have sealed in death the presumptuous lips which uttered it."

"She betrayed his confidence?" asked Portsmouth, breathlessly.

"Betrayed--and worse!" gesticulated Nell, with the visage of a madman.

"A woman base, without a spark of kindliness--an adventuress! This is the picture of that Eleanor Gwyn! Where is a champion to take up the gauntlet for such a Nell?"

As quick as light, the King threw back the arras and came between them.

The d.u.c.h.ess saw him and cried out in surprise. Nell did not turn--only caught a chair-top to save herself from falling.

"Here, thou defamer!" he called, his voice husky with pa.s.sion. "Thou base purveyor of lies, answer me--me, for those words! I am Nell's champion! I'll force you to own your slander a lie."

The King was terribly in earnest.

"The guard! The guard!" called Portsmouth, faintly, almost overcome by the scene. In her pa.s.sion that the King so revealed his love for Nell, she quite forgot that Adair was the bearer of her packet.

"I want no guard," commanded the King. "An insult to Nell Gwyn is my cause alone."

Nell was in an elysium of ecstasy. She realized nothing, saw nothing.

"He loves me! He loves me!" her trembling lips breathed only. "He'll fight for Nell."

"Come; draw and defend yourself," angrily cried the King.

Portsmouth screamed and fell upon his arm.

It is doubtful what the result would otherwise have been. True, Nell ofttimes had fenced with the King and knew his wrist, but she was no swordswoman now. Though she took up in her delirium the King's challenge with a wild cry, "Aye, draw and defend yourself!" she realized nothing but his confession of love for Nell.

The scene was like a great blur before her eyes.

She rushed upon the King and by him, she scarce knew how. Their swords harmlessly clashed; that was all.

The cries had been taken up without.

"The guard! The guard!" "Treason!" "Treason!"

The air was alive with voices.

Nell ran up the steps leading to a French window, which opened upon a tiny railed balcony. Below, one story only, lay a soft carpet of greensward, shimmering in the moonlight. With her sword, she struck the frail sash, which instantly yielded.

Meantime, the room had filled with courtiers, guards and gallants, who had rushed in, sword and spear in hand, to guard the King.