The Highwayman

by H. C. Bailey

  CHAPTER XXV

  SAUVE QUI PEUT

  "Sir, you must be gone instantly," says Masham.

  "You are officious, my lord." The Pretender stared at him. "I havenothing to fear."

  "I warrant you have," Masham cried. "And so have others."

  "I believe that, _pardieu_. Come, my lord, command yourself. Where isthis Council? I may still show myself to the lords and challenge them."

  "Damme, you cannot be so mad! 'Tis packed with Whigs. They must have windof you, curse them. Marlborough is there, and Argyll and Sunderland, burnhis foxy face. It might have gone amiss though the Queen armed you to herchair. Now she is dead, there is no hope for you. Go to the Council! Goto the Tower--go to the block."

  The Pretender turned to Harry with a smile and a shrug. "He trims hissails quickly."

  "That's unworthy, by God," Masham cried.

  "My lord is in the right, sir," Harry said. "It's true enough,Marlborough is here and he makes sure. You'll but extinguish yourself totry more now. The need is to bring you safe to your friends."

  "You also!" The Pretender shrugged again. "Faith, Mr. Boyce, youshow yourself vastly anxious for my life. You are not much concernedfor my honour."

  "Egad, sir, I should have thought your honour was to maintain your cause.You'll not do that from a prison or coffin."

  "Who knows?" the Pretender said. "My grandfather--"

  Masham was stamping with impatience. "Oh Lud, sir, must we gossipabout your grandfather? Stay here, you cannot. It is not decent. TheQueen's a corpse behind that door. Why, and if they take you in thepalace, it's ruin for you and for us all. Oh, we shall not be sparedif you are caught."

  "Yes. I am a curse to my friends." The Pretender laughed drearily. "Well,my lord, you shall be delivered at least. Lead the way." Masham hurriedout on the word. As they followed the Pretender took Harry's arm. "I wishyou may be right, Mr. Boyce," he said. "But my heart bids me stay."

  "Oh, sir, a king has no right to a heart," says Harry.

  They were suddenly thrown upon Masham as he checked and drew back withoutwarning. He had come upon a woman who was leaving the Queen's apartments,a woman who had once been handsome, and was still proud of it. Shestared haughtily at Masham and his companions, and swept on before them.He was much agitated.

  "What alarms you, my lord?" The Pretender sneered.

  "Carrots from Somerset, egad," Masham muttered, gazing after thedisdainful lady's red head. "It's the Duchess of Somerset, sir, thedamnedest Whig, and she came from the Queen. Now they will all know theQueen is gone. Come on, sir, come on for God's sake."

  They hurried after him through the palace. All was quiet enough.Afterwards, indeed, Harry could hardly believe that fancy had not playedtricks with his memory; for the emptiness, the silence of the corridorsmust needs have been a dramatic invention of his own mind and no reality.But it is true that as they hurried their retreat he was haunted by thequiet of the place--the quiet of death, a quiet ominous of storm.

  They were down at the door by which they had entered, and Masham'sservant-in-waiting there was dispatched for the horses. Masham fumed atthe minutes of delay, ran out and in again, and then with someawkwardness apologized for himself. "Egad, sir, I warrant you we havedone what we could. It is for you I fear, by God. I promise you, I doubtdamnably how things may go. Pray, sir, put yourself in safety."

  "I am grateful for your emotions, my lord."

  Masham stared at him and then cried out, "Ods life, what now?" The horseswere coming, but before the horses came two of the Guards at the double.They halted at the door, panting, and grounded their muskets. "What thedevil's this, my lad?" says Masham.

  "None is to leave the palace, my lord."

  "Damme, sirrah, you know me?"

  "It won't do, my lord. That's the order. You must go speak with thecaptain at the main gate."

  "Come, sir, I have no time. Forget that you were here soon enough to stopme. You shall not lose by it."

  "It won't do, my lord. Nay, nay, don't force me to it." The corporalcrossed muskets with his fellow as Masham was thrusting by. "Order is tospare none."

  "Damme, sir, what do your mean?"

  "Sure, my lord, you know better than that." The corporal grinned. "Askthe captain, if you please."

  Masham recoiled and drew the others back into the palace. They heard thecorporal shout: "Put the nags up, my bully. My lord won't ride to-day."

  "They know you are here, sir," Masham said, with a very white face. "Damnthe Somerset! She lost no time. What is to do now?"

  "It seems my own plan was the best, gentlemen. If I had gone into theCouncil we should at the worst have been in no worse case."

  "Oh Lud, sir, must we wrangle that out again?"

  "You are impudent, my lord. I will do without your company."

  "Good God, sir, it's no time for forms. What would you be at?"

  "I shall go to the main gate of your palace and see who will standin my way."

  "That's ruin for certain," Masham groaned.

  "Be easy, my lord. I shall not boast myself your guest."

  "Oh, you are mad."

  "By your leave, sir," says Harry. "We need not so soon despair, I think,nor you run upon your death. There is something more to be tried. Thesesentries, they'll be on the watch for a gentleman of your distinction andin my lord's company or of some noble attendance. But a common fellow maypass them. If you would lend me your fine clothes and that great wig, andcondescend to my subfuse and bob, there's no one would take so shabby afellow for yourself. Maybe I might make a show to break out one way,while you slipped past by another."

  "And left you to bear the brunt for me? I complain of you again, Mr.Boyce--you do not much value my honour."

  "And I say again, sir, your honour is to maintain your cause. Nay, butwhat can they do to me? Faith, it's no sin to wear fine clothes. AndI--well, I think the Whigs will never bring me into court. I know toomuch of my father."

  "Oh, you are specious, Mr. Boyce," the Pretender smiled at him. "Nay, ifall my friends were such as you, I should not be in this queer plight."He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "How am I to thank you, sirrah?"

  "Pray, sir, do as I advise."

  The hand pressed harder. "Be it so then."

  "Egad, I like it very well," says Masham heartily. The two exchanged ashrug and a sneer at him. "If Mr. Boyce will risk it, he may make a showof marching out by the garden entrance while you slip away by theservants' wicket beyond."

  "I believe I can trust you to get rid of me, my lord," the Pretendershrugged. "Pray, where may we exchange our characters--and our breeches?"

  "Oh, sir, follow me; we must be private about that."

  Harry burst out laughing. "Aye, faith, he is a gentleman of delicacy, ourMasham," the Pretender said.

  But my lord had no ears or no understanding for irony. He brought them tohis own quarters and, fervidly entreating them to lose no time, shut themin and mounted guard outside the door.

  They cut queer figures to their own eyes when they came out, and Mashamwas distressed by their laughter. "What ails you?" he protestednervously. "It does well enough, I swear."

  "I am flattered by your admiration, _pardieu_," says the Pretender, witha rueful grin down at the shabby clothes which were so tight upon him,and a clutch at the bob-wig's jauntiness.

  "Some are born great," says Harry, "and some have greatness thrust upon'em. I believe I can keep inside your periwig, sir, but damme if I amsure about your breeches. They disdain me, egad."

  "God's life, sir, if you make a jest of it you'll ruin us all," Mashamcried. "I vow it's not seemly, neither. The Queen's dead but thishalf-hour, and--and, by God, our own heads are loose on our shoulders."

  "My lord's in the right, sir. It's no laughing matter," says Harry.

  "Aye, he's all noble feeling," the Pretender shrugged.

  "Come on, sir, in God's name," Masham groaned.

  "Look you, thus it goes. I'll bring you within sight of the gardenentry. Then you
make to go out, Mr. Boyce, with what parade you can. Andyou, sir, I'll take you to the head of the back stairs. You have but togo straight down and out, and I wish you God speed with all my heart.Come, come!"

  They marched along the corridor and must needs pass the end of that whichled to the Queen's apartments. Masham was a little ahead of the others.He passed the corner. Then he checked and he turned sharp about andcharged back on them, crowding them against the wall, trying to stand infront of both of them and hide them.

  It was Marlborough who alarmed my lord, Marlborough who came, alone,pacing slowly from the room where the Queen lay dead. No dismay, noemotion troubled his supreme grace. He disdained his splendours and hisbeauty with the wonted calm.

  He saw them, could not but see them, huddled together as they were andstriving not to be seen. His face betrayed nothing. He paced slowly up tothem. It seemed to Harry that from the first his placid eyes looked atnone of them but the Pretender. "We have met before, sir, I think," hesaid gently.

  "On the field of battle," says the Pretender in French.

  Marlborough bowed. "Give me your company."

  "Oh, your family has always been too kind to mine."

  Marlborough pointed the way.

  The Pretender shrugged, and "_Enfin_," says he with a bitter laugh, andmarched on with an air.

  Masham, leaning against the wall and very white, muttered to himself, "MyGod, my God!"

  Harry ran forward to look after them. He saw Marlborough glance over thePretender's shabby clothes and then, making some ostentation of it, puton his hat. The Pretender with a stare of disdain put on his--or Harry's.They came to the head of the grand staircase and went down. The servantsin the hall sprang up and ran to open the doors for His Grace. Harryheard a din and a clang and saw a flash of steel as the guard outsidepresented arms. The two passed out and out of sight. For a little whilethe servants stood staring after them, and then came back to their chairswhispering.

  Harry turned round to Masham. "What now?"

  "Now?" Masham stared. "Now we may go hang ourselves."

  "Like Judas? Damme, I don't feel the obligation. Do you, my lord?"

  Masham swore at him and began to walk off.

  "Can you lend me a humbler coat, my lord?" Harry cried. "I am no moreuse in this."

  "I'll do no more in it," Masham growled. "Look to yourself."

  "_Enfin,_ as His Majesty says," quoth Harry with a laugh, and went on tolook for the garden entry or any other humble door. He found it soonenough and was going through it--to be instantly beset by a sergeant'sparty and a joyful shout, "Odso, 'tis himself, 'tis the Chevalier."

  "You flatter me," says Harry, and they marched him off.