He arrived at the castle to be most cordially received by the d.u.c.h.ess and Sir Julian. If Buckingham was ever unbending, it was to Sir Julian.

As they met, Buckingham bent lower than his wont to hide a guilt that was not perceptible to any one else but Julian, and the latter was not slow to note it. The d.u.c.h.ess, not knowing who had carried off either Constance or Mistress Penwick, was very free in her conversation and spoke at once of Lord Cedric's injury and of the naughty beauty that had driven him to it. Buckingham's countenance was changed by the a.s.sumed expression of either surprise or regret, as was necessary and suited.

Upon his arrival he was not allowed to see either the Duke or Cedric, and as his business called for a speedy return to London, he must leave early after supper, adding that he regretted the importunity of the hour, as it detained the king's business with his Grace of Ellswold.

This of course changed the physicians' minds, and Buckingham was allowed to have converse with the Duke and finished that he came to do at the castle.

But Sir Julian had somewhat to say, and ordered his horse to accompany the Duke on his return journey.

This was not unlooked for, and Buckingham, fearing no _imbroglio_, intended to hasten Sir Julian's speech, as there was no time to spare.

They started forth 'neath the dripping trees.

"Where is Mistress Penwick, George?"

"With her nurse, Julian."

"And where the nurse?"

"At Hornby's."

"Where is Monmouth's place of hiding her?"

"That is more, I dare say, Julian, than he knows himself."

"How long will they remain at the inn?"

"Until I return."

"Then--?"

"Then, London way is my desire, and I doubt not 'tis Monmouth's also."

"Dost love me, Duke?"

"Aye, as always. What is thy desire?"

"Canst thou keep the maid safe for thirty-six hours?" For a moment there was no answer; then calmly and cold came the word "No."

"By G.o.d! is it so bad that you, you George, cannot take care of her?"

"'Tis the worst of all!"

"Is she safe then now--now?"

"If the eye of the nurse doth not perjure its owner, I would say she was safe for all time."

"Good--"

"But, Pomphrey, one would wonder at thy devotion to Cedric?"

"I loved him, first."

"That does not say thou lovest thy second love better, eh?"

"By heaven, I love her, there--thou hast it." Buckingham gave vent to his natural inclination and laughed boldly.

"Then, follow her. We may presume she will be safe kept 'til London gives her rest and wine and finds a locker for her nurse."

"Then my errand is finished. I will bid thee _adieu_."

CHAPTER XVI

BUCKINGHAM'S ADVENTURE

Buckingham, returning to the village, where his escort met him, then went to a small unused cabin in the thick woods beyond. Here he changed his attire, making ready for a quick journey and one fraught with some adventure.

As he donned his clothes, ever and anon he paused to hear the low murmuring of voices that came up from the village. 'Twas evident the mob was gathering.

An hour he waited impatiently, when his servant entered, saying that the mob had started and were hurrying along the high-road at great speed.

The Duke mounted and rode after them, quite far enough in the rear for them not to hear his horse's step or see as he pa.s.sed where some cottage light fell aslant the road.

By the time they came in sight of the monastery, he was exasperated beyond measure to be so held behind and was in no mood to wait the mob's leisure. He leapt from his horse and threw rein to his man.

No light was to be seen. It appeared the monks had either deserted their dwelling or fortified it by fastening with boards the windows and doors. The latter was the case. The besiegers with all sorts of sticks, stones and bludgeons began at once to bombard the building that stood dark and seemingly impregnable. Buckingham stood some distance from them, as if indeed he were of different mould and could not mingle with their steaming, smoking, foul-smelling bodies, that reeked of gin and poor tobacco. He waited only for an entrance to be made, that he might pa.s.s in without the labour of making an opening for himself. Indeed, his arm, unused to such rough strength, would become unfit to handle the sword of a gentleman.

He was leant upon one knee behind a strip of iris that bordered a forest path, when suddenly he heard the crash of gla.s.s and heard a triumphant yell from the mob. He sprang from his hiding and crept toward the place. A window had been broken in and the fight had already begun. The monks were well equipped for battle with weapon, strength and stout hearts and a good stone wall for shelter, but their numbers were weak.

The siege was destined to be a long and b.l.o.o.d.y one, unless the ponderous door could be broken, for the mob could not enter fast enough through the small cas.e.m.e.nt. Should this be done, it was evident the monks would be obliged to either take flight, surrender or be foully murdered.

Buckingham could not enter the window without taking part in the fight, and mayhap run a great risk to his person.

He was not long in discovering, however, that the doorway was being bombarded successfully, and soon the ma.s.sive door must succ.u.mb.

At last there was a thundering crash, and broken oak panels flew through the air.

The men rushed in. Buckingham in a moment was in their midst and fighting his way through them. He flung himself aside and escaped the fighting ma.s.s by a small door that led him to a pa.s.sage, where he regained his breath and looked out for his bearings.

He found his way through many winding pa.s.sages to the panel. This he opened and quickly strode through to the trapdoor, which stood agape.

From beneath came the sound of voices. He knelt and looked down. There was no light to guide him. Cautiously he descended the ladder, finding his way warily toward the place where he had seen the chest and whence now came the voices. One was saying:

"It's gone, the d.a.m.n knaves have secreted it; we must have a light, Anson, or the horde above stair will be upon us, and all the fires of h.e.l.l could hardly show us out of this dungeon." Whereupon the flint was struck and the forms of three men were dimly outlined.

They began running about nervously in different directions to find the chest; his Grace keeping from view by following in their shadow. Back they went again to the spot where it had stood, and as the light fell full in their faces Buckingham recognized the pale, chiselled countenance of Cantemir. There were two servants with him, which, judging from their eagerness, evidently expected perquisites.