CHAPTER XLIV
About ten on the morning of the 3rd of November of that year eightgentlemen of the first rank in England were assembled in the galleryat Kensington, awaiting a summons to the King's closet. With theexception of Lord Godolphin, who had resigned his office three daysearlier, all belonged to the party in power, notwithstanding which, acurious observer might have detected in their manner and intercoursean air of reserve and constraint, unusual among men at once so highlyplaced, and of the same opinions. A little thought, however, and aknowledge of the business which brought them together, would haveexplained the cause of this.
While the Duke of Devonshire, the Marquis of Dorset, and Lord Portlandformed a group apart, it was to be noticed that Lords Marlborough andGodolphin and Admiral Russell, who seemed to fall naturally into asecond group--and though the movements of the company constantly leftthem together--never suffered this arrangement to last; but eithereffected a temporary change, by accosting the Lord Keeper or Mr.Secretary Trumball, or through the medium of Sir Edward Russell's loudvoice and boisterous manners, wrought a momentary fusion of thecompany.
"By the Eternal, I am the most unlucky fellow," the Admiral cried,addressing the whole company, on one of these occasions. "If Sir Johnhad lied about me only, I should have given it him back in his teeth,and so fair and square; it is a poor cook does not know his own batch.But because he drags in the Duke, and the Duke chooses to get thefantods, and shirks him, I stand the worse!"
"Sir Edward," said Lord Dorset, speaking gravely and in a tone ofrebuke, "No one supposes that the Duke of Shrewsbury is aught but ill.And, allow me to say that under the circumstances you are unwise toput it on him."
"But d----n me, he has no right to be ill!" cried the seaman, whoseturbulent spirit was not easily put down. "If he were here, I wouldsay the same to his face. And that is flat!"
He was proceeding with more, but at that moment the door of the Royalcloset was thrown open, and a gentleman usher appeared, inviting themto enter. "My lords and gentlemen," he said, "His Majesty desires youto be seated, as at the Council. He will be presently here."
The movement into the next room being made, the conversation took alower tone, each speaking only to his neighbour; one, discussing theKing's crossing and the speed of his new yacht, another the excellenthealth and spirits in which His Majesty had returned; until a door atthe lower end of the room being opened, a murmur of voices, and stirof feet were heard, and after a moment's delay. Sir John Fenwickentered, a prisoner, and with a somewhat dazed air advanced to thefoot of the table.
The Lord Steward rose and gravely bowed to him; and this courtesy, inwhich he was followed by all except the Admiral, was returned by theprisoner.
"Sir John," said the Duke of Devonshire, "the King will be presentlyhere."
"I am obliged to your Grace," Fenwick answered, and stood waiting.
His gaunt form, clothed in black, his face always stern and nowhaggard, his eyes--in which pride and fanaticism, at one momentovercame and at another gave place to the look of a huntedbeast--these things would have made him a pathetic figure at any timeand under any circumstances. How much more when those who gazed on himknew that he stood on the brink of death! and knew, too, that within afew moments he must meet the prince who for years he had insulted anddefied, and in whose hands his fate now lay!
That some, less interested in the matter than others, harboured suchthoughts, the looks of grave compassion which Lords Devonshire andDorset cast on him seemed to prove. But their reflections--which,doubtless, carried them back to a time when the most brilliant andcynical of courtiers played the foremost part in the Whitehall of theRestoration--these, no less than the mutterings and restless movementsof Russell, who, in his enemy's presence, could scarcely controlhimself, were cut short by the King's entrance.
He came in unannounced, and very quietly, at a door behind the LordSteward; and all rising to their feet, he bade them in a foreignaccent, "Good-day," adding immediately, "Be seated, my lords. My LordSteward, we will proceed."
His entrance and words, abrupt, if not awkward, lacked alike the gracewhich all remembered in Charles, and the gloomy majesty which thesecond James had at his command. And men felt the lack. Yet, as hetook his stand, one hand lightly resting on the back of the LordSteward's chair, the stooping sombre figure and sallow, withered facestaring out of its great peruque, had a dignity of their own. For itcould not be forgotten that he was that which no Stuart King ofEngland had ever been--a soldier and a commander from boyhood, at homein all the camps of Flanders and the Rhine, familiar with every perilof battle and breach; at his ease anywhere, where other men blenchedand drew back. And the knowledge that this was so invested him with acertain awe and grandeur even in the eyes of courtiers. On this day hewore a black suit, relieved only by the ribbon of the Garter; and ashe stood he let his chin sink so low on his breast, that his eyes,which could on occasion shine with a keen and almost baleful light,were hidden.
The Lord Steward, in obedience to his command, was about to addressSir John, when the King, with a brusqueness characteristic of him,intervened. "Sir John," he said, in a harsh, dry voice, and speakingpartly in French, partly in English, "your papers are altogetherunsatisfactory. Instead of giving us an account of the plots formed byyou and your accomplices, plots of which all the details must beexactly known to you, you tell us stories without authority, withoutdate, without place, about noblemen and gentlemen, with whom you donot pretend to have had any intercourse. In short, your confessionappears to be a contrivance, intended to screen those who are reallyengaged in designs against us, and to make me suspect and discardthose in whom I have good reason to place confidence. If you look forany favour from me, therefore, you will give me this moment, and onthis spot, a full and straightforward account of what you know of yourown knowledge. And--but do you tell him the rest, my lord."
"Sir John," said the Lord Steward in a tone serious and compassionate,"His Majesty invites your confidence, and will for good reasons showyou his favour. But you must deserve it. And it is his particulardesire that you conclude nothing from the fact that you are admittedto see him."
"On the contrary," said the King, dryly, "I see you, sir, for the sakeof my friends. If, therefore, you can substantiate the charges youhave made, it behoves you to do it. Otherwise, to make a full and freeconfession of what you do know."
"Sir," said Sir John hoarsely, speaking for the first time, "I standhere worse placed than any man ever was. For I am tried by those whomI accuse."
The King slightly shrugged his shoulders. "_Fallait penser la_, whenyou accused them," he muttered.
Sir John cast a fierce despairing glance along the table, and seemedto control himself with difficulty. At length, "I can substantiatenothing against three of those persons," he said; whereon some ofthose who listened breathed more freely.
"And that is all, sir, that you have to say?" said the King,ungraciously; and as if he desired only to cut short the scene.
"All," said Sir John firmly, "against those three persons. But as tothe fourth, the Duke of Shrewsbury, who is not here----"
The King could not suppress an exclamation of contempt. "You may spareus that fable, sir," he said. "It would not deceive a child, much lessone who holds the Duke high in his esteem."
Sir John drew himself to his full height, and looked along the table,his gloomy eyes threatening. "And yet that fable I can prove, sir," hesaid. "That I can substantiate, sir. To that I have a witness, and awitness above suspicion! If I prove that, sir, shall I have yourMajesty's favour?"
"Perfectly," said the King, shrugging his shoulders, amid a generalthrill and movement; for though rumours had gone abroad, by no meansthe whole of Sir John's case was known, even to some at the table."Prove it! Prove that, sir, and not a hair of your head shall fall.You have my promise."
However, before Sir John could answer, Mr. Secretary Trumball rose inhis place and intervened. "I crave your indulgence, sir," he said,"while
, with your Majesty's permission, I call in the Duke ofShrewsbury, who is in waiting."
"In waiting," said the King, in a voice of surprise; nor was thesurprise confined to him. "I thought that he was ill, Mr. Secretary."
"He is so ill, sir, as to be very unfit to be abroad," the Secretaryanswered. "Yet he came to be in readiness, if your Majesty needed him.Sir John Fenwick persisting, I ask your Majesty's indulgence while Ifetch him."
The King nodded, but with a pinched and dissatisfied face; and SirWilliam retiring, in a moment returned with the Duke. At his entrance.His Majesty greeted him dryly, and with a hint of displeasure in hismanner; thinking probably that this savoured too much of a _coup detheater_, a thing he hated. But seeing the next instant, and beforethe Secretary took his seat, how ill the Duke looked, his facebetrayed signs of disturbance; after which, his eyelids drooping, itfell into the dull and Sphinx-like mould which it assumed when he didnot wish his thoughts to be read by those about him.
That the Duke's pallor and wretched appearance gave rise to suspicionin other minds is equally certain; the more hardy of those present,such as my Lord Marlborough and the Admiral, being aware that nothingshort of guilt, and the immediate prospect of detection, could sochange themselves. And while some felt a kind of admiration, as theyconned and measured the stupendous edifice of skilful deceit, which mylord had so long and perfectly concealed behind a front of brass, asto take in all the world, others were already busied with the effectit would have on the party, and how this might be softened, and thatexplained, and in a word another man substituted with as little shockas possible for this man. Nor were these emotions at all weakened whenmy lord, after saluting the King, took his seat, without speaking ormeeting the general gaze.
"Now, sir," said the King impatiently, when all was quiet again, "theDuke is here. Proceed."
"I will," Sir John answered with greater hardiness than he had yetused, "I have simply to repeat to his face what I have said behind hisback: that on the 10th of last June, in the evening, he met me atAshford, in Kent, and gave me a ring and a message, bidding me carryboth with me to St. Germain's."
My lord looked slowly round the table; then at Sir John. And itstartled some to see that he had compassion in his face.
"Sir John," he said--after, as it seemed, weighing the words he wasabout to speak, "you are in such a position, it were barbarous toinsult you. But you must needs, as you have accused me before HisMajesty and these gentlemen, hear me state, also before them, thatthere is not a word of truth in what you say."
Sir John stared at him and breathed hard. "_Mon dieu!_" he exclaimedat length. And his voice sounded sincere.
"I was not at Ashford on the 10th of June," the Duke continued withdignity, "or on any day in that month. I never saw you there, and Igave you no ring."
"_Mon Dieu!_" Sir John muttered again; and, his gaze fallen, he seemedto be unable to take his eyes off the other.
Now it is certain that whatever the majority of those present thoughtof this--and the demeanour of the two men was so steadfast that evenLord Marlborough's acumen was at fault--the King's main anxiety was tobe rid of the matter, and with some impatience he tried to put a stopto it at this point. "Is it worth while to carry this farther, mylords?" he said, fretfully. "We know our friends. We know our enemiesalso. This is a story _pour rire_, and deserving only of contempt."
But Sir John at that cried out, protesting bitterly and fiercely,and recalling the King's promise, and the Duke being no lessurgent--though as some thought a little unseasonably for his owninterests--that the matter be sifted to the bottom, the King had nooption but to let it go on. "Very well," he said ungraciously, "if hewill have his witness let him." And then, with one of those spirits ofpeevishness, which stood in strange contrast with his wontedmagnanimity, he added, to the Duke of Shrewsbury, "It is your ownchoice, my lord. Don't blame me."
The querulous words bore a meaning which all recognised; and some atthe table started, and resumed the calculation how they should trimtheir sails in a certain event. But nothing ever became the Dukebetter than the manner in which he received that insinuation. "Be itso, sir," he said with spirit, "My choice and desire is that Sir Johnhave as full a share of justice as I claim for myself, and as fair ahearing. Less than that were inconsistent with your Majesty'sprerogative, and my honour."
The King's only answer was a sulky and careless nod. On which SirWilliam Trumball, after whispering to the prisoner, went out, andafter a brief delay, which seemed to many at the table long enough,returned with Matthew Smith.
Shrewsbury: A Romance Page 45
