"Antiques, eh!" the Duke grunted. "Waste of time and money. When I was taken to Rome as a young man my fool of a tutor argued me into buying some marbles. Feller called Wood, I remember. They're still in their packing-cases somewhere. I've never had time to open the damn things, and don't suppose I ever shall."
Droopy raised his quizzing-glass and remarked a trifle acidly: "Among such marbles 'tis a fair bet that there are certain of the Roman gods. Since your Grace has elected to keep them hidden from mortal eyes for some thirty eyes, 'tis clear that you can have little sympathy with my third interest—the study of ancient religions."
"No, none whatever," replied the Duke, with the bluntness of a Dr. Johnson; to whom in fact some people considered that he had a certain resemblance. "Not only are such studies futile, but they may even become dangerous; for all Pagan religions were the invention of the Devil."
Roger had not been taking much interest in the conversation, as his mind was on Vorontzoff and Georgina; and he was wondering if by this time the Russian had managed to separate her from the other two ladies on some pretext, such as showing him her collection of silver toys, in the far drawing-room, so that he could whisper sweet nothings to her at his leisure. But he now came to the rescue of his friend, by saying:
"Surely your Grace would not lump the religion of the Greeks and Romans with the Devil-worship of more primitive peoples?"
"Sir, I would indeed!" came the prompt response. "For the former developed directly from the latter."
"Permit me to disagree," declared Droopy quickly. "And I have spent much time investigating the origins of both."
"If the rituals of Satanism interest you, my Lord, you should consult George Selwyn on that subject," Fox cut in with a laugh. "Ask him to tell you how he once raised the Devil."
All eyes were immediately turned on tine benign, bishop-like face of the elderly wit, who said with rueful smile: "It seems that I shall never live down my association with the Hell-Fire Club, although 'tis so long ago. Its heyday was in the late '50s, and in '62, the year that Dashwood both succeeded to his Barony and became Chancellor of the Exchequer, 'twas disbanded. That is before some of you were born, so I pray you let it rest."
"Nay, nay!" cried Colonel Thursby. "Everyone knows that you were a leading member of it, and I've often meant to inquire of you what really went on there. Tell us, I beg?"
Except by the Duke, who had retired once more into his smoke screen, Selwyn was pressed on all sides, so after a moment, he said:
"Since you insist, I'll give you the gist of it. The idea originated with Sir Francis Dashwood one night at White's. My Lord Sandwich, Charles Churchill, Bubb-Dodington, Paul Whitehead, Robert Lloyd and myself, were other moving spirits in the affair. We had all become un peu blaséwith the easy favours of society women and the ladies of the Italian Opera, so we were seeking a new outlet for our amorous propensities. Dashwood urged the claims of a masquerade with its dual attraction of dressing-up and the amusement of laying siege to an unknown partner. He proposed that we should form a new order of St. Francis, but differing from the old in that Venus should be the object of our worship; and that the rites and ceremonies to be performed should culminate in a Bacchic orgy.
"For the scene of this frolic, and it started as no more, Dashwood selected the half-ruined Abbey of Medmenham. 'Tis on an island in the Thames 'twixt Marlow and Henley, and is a most lovely spot. Later we took to gathering for a fortnight there each summer. Part of the place was made habitable, the larder and the cellar amply stocked, and a well-known bawd in Southwark brought down a score of well-chosen nymphs. We were all clad as monks, and the women, all heavily veiled, were habited as nuns. When we had dined in the old refectory, we repaired to the ruined church, and later, danced in it. As you can imagine the wine flowed freely, and on many a moonlight night we created merry Hell there."
"Oh, come, George!" protested Droopy Ned, "there must have been more to it than ordinary debauchery if, as Mr. Fox tells us, you succeeded in raising the Devil."
Selwyn looked a trifle sheepish. " 'Tis true that an element crept into those meetings which had no connection with our original intentions. Once in our cups the atmosphere of the place and the garments that we wore led us into all sorts of senseless follies. All of us were staunch Protestants, and though I confess it was in bad taste, there were times when we thought it something of a jest to parody the Roman Catholic rituals."
Everyone present guessed that Selwyn was referring to the celebration of the Black Mass, but no one liked to question him about it, and Droopy said: "There is nothing new in that, either. I have oft read accounts of such practices; but 'twould be a genuine novelty to talk with a man who has actually seen His Satanic Majesty. Did he in truth ever appear at your bidding?"
"Not at mine, but at another's."
"You saw him, though?" '
"Yes, once. At least, if not himself 'twas the very image of him." "What looked he like?"
"He was not as tall as myself but with broad shoulders and most powerfully built. He was black and hairy, with a flattened skull and red eyes gleaming from it like live coals."
"Odds blood!" exclaimed the ColoneL "I marvel that you did not all die of fright."
"We near did. My scalp still prickles at the recalling of it. Half our company fled into the night and did not stop running till they reached Marlow. The braver of us remained from a natural impulse to protect the women, the greater part of whom had fainted. But after suffering a few moments of stark terror, our courage was well rewarded."
"How so?" asked Droopy.
Selwyn smiled. "By the discovery that our visitor was quite a friendly fellow and asked no more than to take supper with us.
"George, you are romancing," Droopy laughed. "I'll not believe it."
" 'Tis true. I pledge you my word. On closer acquaintance he proved to be a tame chimpanzee hired from a circus. That irrepressible joker John Wilkes was one of our company. He had brought the ape down earlier in the day and hidden him in a box beneath the altar. Then, just as Dashwood in the role of High Priest was about to make the offering to Venus upon it, Wilkes pressed a spring and the creature jumped out."
Fox's corpulent body rocked and the tears came into his eyes with mirth, as he chortled: "Stap me! But I'd have given as much as I won at Newmarket last year for a sight of poor Dashwood's face."
"Aye, one can laugh over it after all these years," said Selwyn soberly. "But it taught us a lesson we never forgot; and 'twas the end of the Hell-Fire Club. Wilkes's ape was too like the real thing for us ever again to play at being monks and nuns, by night, in the ruins of Medmenham Abbey."
"What a character Wilkes is!" exclaimed the Colonel. "He must have caused more commotions in the past half-century than any man in England."
"Than any ten," cried Fox. "The controversy over that article of his in the North Briton, his suspension as a Member of Parliament and arrest, near caused a revolution. For twelve years the electors of Middlesex refused to be represented by any other candidate and repeatedly brought actions aimed at forcing the House to re-accept him. More of our time was spent in losing our tempers over John Wilkes than we gave in succeeding sessions to debating the American war."
"I wonder you don't blush to recall it, Charles," Selwyn smiled, "seeing that the part you played in hounding him, and battling to restrict the liberties of the press, was so contrary to your present principles."
The wily politician shrugged. "Times change, George. I was then a young full-blooded aristocrat with little understanding of what is due to the common people. 'Tis strange to think, though, that I was once a King's man, hot to defend all privilege, whereas now Farmer George has not a subject in his whole realm that he hates more bitterly than myself."
"In that you have changed places with Wilkes, Sir," Roger laughed. "For time was when the King counted him his worst enemy; yet I have heard it said that more recently, when Wilkes had to present a petition as Lord Mayor of London, his Majesty said th
at he had never met a more civil man in all his life."
" 'Tis true," Fox acknowledged. "And there again, see how time's magic brings the most amazing changes in the affairs of men. For who would have thought that after the publication of Wilkes' licentious 'Essay on Women,' the straight-laced City Fathers could ever have brought themselves to elect him their Chief Magistrate; or that as a sometime member of the Hell-Fire Club he should now be spending his declining years in the grave role of City Chancellor."
"The public memory is ever plaguey short," remarked Colonel Thursby. "His private immoralities have long been submerged in most men's minds by his vast popularity, and no man of his generation has done more for the preservation of the people's liberties."
Fox nodded. "Wilkes and Liberty! For a score of years anyone could raise a mob at a moment's notice by that cry. I'll not forget how, after one of my speeches against him in the House, they attacked my coach and rolled me in the mud; or the cheering thousands who drew him in triumph up Ludgate Hill after he was at last released from prison. Yet, to the detriment of my own hopes of reform, a sad apathy seems to have seized upon the public mind of recent years; and there is no longer that stalwart spirit of resistance to the abuses of the Ministerial power that there was when Wilkes defied the King."
"The reason for that is not far to seek, Sir," said Droopy Ned. " 'Twas the excesses committed by the mob during the Gordon riots that put a check upon its power. That hydra-headed monster seized upon the project of extending toleration to the Roman Catholic faith as a pretext for glutting its carnal appetites. All those who saw large parts of London ablaze have since had a feeling of acute distrust for popular movements. The King alone kept his head in the crisis, and insisted on calling out the troops for the rounding up of those hordes of drunken looters; so 'tis but natural that all law-abiding people should have come to look on him as the saviour of society."
Roger was still thinking fitfully of Georgina and waiting with some anxiety for the time to pass until they would join the ladies, so that he could put into operation his plan for the discomfiture of the Russian; but he now remarked: "It may well be that the brief reign of terror that so horrified everyone in June '80 will save the country from something far worse in the next decade. Discontent against the old order of things is rife in every country on the continent, particularly France, from whence I returned last autumn after a residence of four years. The middle-classes there are now leagued solidly with the masses in their demand for an end of privilege, and even the nobility themselves have come to regard a revolution as inevitable."
Droopy nodded. "Thou art right about the people of London, Roger. Having seen for themselves the horrid violence of which the mob is capable they will be mighty chary of letting it get loose again."
"That sounds good sense," Fox agreed. "And, as far as France is concerned, I would be the last to gainsay Mr. Brook's contention that we may soon see grave disorders there. The oppression and abuses under which the people of that great nation groan have detached the sympathy of all decent men from its Government; and Louis XVI is far too weak and vacillating a Monarch to succeed in maintaining his authority much longer. The sweeping away of the parasites who batten on the throne is generations overdue, and I'll be the first to acclaim it. Through its blindness and extravagance the Monarchy itself has long been riding for a fall, and should it be shaken to its foundations, so much the better. The humbling of that pair of wastrels at Versailles may well have excellent repercussions at Windsor."
"Nay, nay, Sir," cried Colonel Thursby. "I do protest that there you have allowed your feelings to run away with your sense of comparison. Whatever may be the faults of King George and Queen Charlotte no one could accuse them of being wastrels. Why, all the world knows that they entertain but once a week, and keep so poor a table that even the most spartan Ministers shun an invitation to it."
" 'Tis the fact," laughed Droopy. "Have you not heard the latest of the Queen's economies. 'Tis said that throughout the week she saves every crust from the Royal table; then has them stuck like a fence round a mess of cooked apple and served at her Saturday parties under the name of Charlotte Russe."
So, for another half-hour, the talk ran on, alternating between the grave and gay and covering another score of subjects, till the Colonel glanced at his watch and said: "Gentlemen, 'tis after eight and I am sure some of you must be eager to get to the card-table, so I suggest that we join the ladies."
In the drawing-room matters were just as Roger had suspected. Lady Amelia had brought down her needlework, and seated by the fire, was explaining various intricate stitches to the tactful and self-effacing Mrs. Armistead; while, well out of earshot at the far end of the long room, Georgina was lending an attentive ear to the Ambassador.
As the men entered, and she stood up to curtsy in response to their bows, they all exclaimed in surprise and admiration. She was no longer dressed in her creation of white silk, but in the gay Russian peasant costume that Vorontzoff had brought her, having, as she told them, changed into it with the help of the other two ladies immediately on leaving the dining-room.
The rich colouring of the embroideries and the horse-shoe shaped headdress suited her dark beauty to perfection, and although men were used to seeing women in riding-boots, there seemed to them something terrifically daring in their combination with knee-high petticoats. Raising their quizzing-glasses they crowded round her like bees about a honey-pot, and even his Grace of Bridgewater was heard to declare: " 'Tis a demmed sensible costume, and for the life of me I can't think why women don't wear such short skirts habitually."
When the sensation had subsided Georgina rang for the footmen to bring in a large card-table and began to count heads as to who wished to play. The Colonel and his Grace excused themselves on the plea of wanting to talk business and repaired to the library. Lady Amelia said that she never touched a card but would be quite happy to continue with her needlework. Fox, Selwyn, Vorontzoff, Droopy and Mrs. Armistead all declared themselves enchanted to join Georgina in a game of Pharo, then she looked interrogatively at Roger.
She knew that he could not afford to play, even for stakes which would be considered quite modest by the others; and, knowing that Lady Amelia would not play, she had counted on being able to spare him the embarrassment of a refusal, by indicating that politeness enjoined that someone should keep Lady Amelia company.
Her glance, moving with apparent casualness to the spinster by the fire, clearly suggested the line of retreat that she expected him to take; but, to her surprise, he ignored it and said: "Your servant, Madam, I will take a hand with pleasure."
The seven of them then settled themselves round the big card-table and began to share out the engraved mother-of-pearl counters, which were of several different shapes. After some discussion it was agreed that the rounds should represent crowns, the squares half-guineas, the oblongs guineas and the octagonals five-pound pieces; that five pounds should be the maximum for any initial bet and that no player should be allowed to leave his stake on to double up more than five times. Roger having elected to play, Georgina had deliberately kept the stakes down as low as she reasonably could, but she was conscious that the limit must now appear pettifogging to a man like Fox who on many occasions had won or lost upwards of ten thousand pounds in a night at Brook's or Almack's; so she smiled at him and said:
"With so low a maximum, Charles, this makes but a baby game for you. I trust you'll bear with our modest habits when in the country."
"M'dear," he laughed good-humorously. " 'Tis a favour you do me; since nine times out of every ten that I play I finish up a loser."
On the cards being dealt round the first bank fell to Vorontzoff, who at once proceeded to make the lay-out from one of the spare packs.
The game required no skill, and was the simplest form of straight gamble. The banker merely laid out in a row in front of him an Ace, King, Queen, Knave and Ten, upon which the players placed their bets. He then dealt through the four-pac
k deck from which all the lower cards had been eliminated, laying each card face up, as he turned it over, to his right and left alternatively. At the beginning of each hand he declared whether he would pay out on the cards which fell to his right or to his left, and on the opposite pile he drew in. As each card was exposed he either won or lost on its equivalent Ace, King, Queen, Knave or Ten, until he had run through the deck, upon which the bank passed to the player on his left and the process was repeated.
Since only the banker handled the cards it was impossible for anyone to cheat at the game until the bank came to them; but, given the bank, an expert could so manipulate the pack as to ensure that certain of the cards equivalent to those on the table carrying the most money should fall upon the winning side. Roger was no expert, and the last thing he wished to do was to win money by cheating Georgina or any of her friends. When the bank came to him he meant to play one of his hidden cards against the card Vorontzoff had put his money on, and deliberately allow the Russian to catch him cheating.
While dressing he had racked his brains in vain for a legitimate method of heading the Russian off from his quarry, and the only means he had been able to think of was to force a duel upon him. However pressing his rival's attentions might be, he felt confident that Georgina set too high a value on herself to succumb to him on the night of his arrival. But given the Saturday afternoon and evening, and all Sunday, for gentle dalliance, if her inclinations tended that way and Fox stressed the urgency of winning the Russian to the interests of the Opposition, it was quite on the cards that she might grant him the opportunity for which he was obviously so eager before the week-end was out. Having already met him several times in London, that, according to the lax standards of the day, would not be unduly to cheapen herself.
Therefore, Roger had argued to himself, his object would be achieved if he could render the Russian hors de combatduring the next, twelve hours. The prospect of a duel had no terrors for him, since he had fought three already, and knew himself to be an extremely accomplished swordsman. The fact that duels were forbidden in England also gave him few qualms, as the penalties were rarely pressed unless one of the combatants was killed, and he had no intention of doing more than disabling his potential adversary. The problem that remained was how to force a quarrel on Vorontzoff that night so that he would be compelled to fight first thing the following morning.
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree rb-2 Page 5
