"You feel then, Sir, that I should leave at once?"
"I do; now that the inquest is over. I would have suggested your leaving before, had I not thought your presence in the house essential to support Georgina through her recent ordeal. But if you are not gone before Sir Isaiah makes his appearance, he will naturally wonder why you should have remained on after the other guests departed. He would start questioning the servants about you, and that might prove the beginning of the end."
"I see the sense in what you say, Sir," Roger said slowly, "and will act ujpon it without delay. But I fear Georgina may take my going hard.'
"I've not a doubt of that. So I will break the matter to her while you make your preparations for departure. I need hardly add that the less you see of one another for the next twelve months the better."
Roger nodded. " 'Twould be best if I sought some employment abroad."
"That would be wise. I also plan to take Georgina out of England until talk concerning her husband's death has died down. She has often expressed a wish to see Constantinople, so I may take her there, and on a tour through the Balkan lands. Business affairs will prevent my setting out for some six or seven weeks to come; but the less you are seen about the less people will talk of your having been so much in Georgina's company this past winter, and the fact that you made one of the house-party here the weekend that the tragedy occurred. So I hope that you will arrange to make your exit from the scene as soon as possible."
"I will expedite my departure by every means in my power, Sir," said Roger, standing up. "Should aught occur in the next few days I beg you let me know. I shall be staying with Lord Edward at Amesbury House. In the last event the responsibility is mine, and I am prepared to face it."
"If need be I will come to town and call upon you; but I trust that will not prove necessary." A kindly smile lit the Colonel's lean face, as he added: "Had I been in your situation I should have done as you did, my boy; so let it not lie too heavy on your conscience."
An hour later Roger was with Georgina in her boudoir. She had changed back into the grey dress that she had worn the night before, but she was looking very mournful. For the past ten minutes they had been discussing the recent conversations that they had each had with her father. Both agreed that, reluctant as they were to part, Colonel Thursby's reasons for their doing so brooked no argument.
"Let us not prolong the agony, dear heart," Roger smiled, after they had said all there was to say. "Wish me luck with one of your long kisses, then I'll go seek my fortune once again."
"Bide but a moment," she replied. "I have something here that I wish to show you."
Going over to a lacquer cabinet she unlocked it, produced a large morocco-leather box, and opening that upon a table displayed a magnificent diamond tiara; then she asked him: "What think you this would fetch?"
"I have no idea," he shrugged. "But at a guess I would say that it must have cost not less than two thousand pounds."
" 'Twas Humphrey's wedding-present to me; so 'tis not an heirloom, and mine to do with as I wish. If it cost so much it will easily pay your debt to Droopy Ned, and furnish you with a few hundreds over for your journey. Take it, I beg."
"Nay, I'll not rob thee ..." he began, but Georgina placed a soft hand over his mouth.
"Dearest Roger," she reasoned gently. "Thou knowest well enough that I have many jewels and will scarce miss this bauble. Doest thou not remember on thy going away as a boy, how, to finance thee, I parted with the half of my girlish trinkets. I am offering thee far less than half, to-day. That debt must be paid, and thou hast beggared thyself in buying gifts for me. Add not to my present burden the misery of knowing thee to be in sore straits for money. Give me, instead, at least the joy of sponsoring thy departure as I did before; so that I may count it an omen that thou wilt come back to me safe and sound a second time."
"So be it, sweet," he murmured. "I've no words to thank thee, but thou knowest what is in my heart." "Aye! Keep it faithful to me, dear one."
"I will do better; for the heart is fickle; but no woman can usurp the throne thou wilt ever occupy in my mind."
"And thou in mine, dear Roger. Indeed, I meant it so. We may take our pleasure where we list, but neither time nor distance nor other loves, can tarnish the sweet mental bond that unites us two."
For over a minute they were locked in a tight embrace, each vying with the other to give all that they could of themselves in a last lingering kiss. Then he left her; and as the door closed behind him he wondered miserably if another four long years must pass before he would know the joy of holding her in his arms again.
CHAPTER VII
YOUNG MR. PITT
WHEN Roger reached London he went straight to the Marquess of Amesbury's mansion in Arlington Street. In those times most of the great nobles still kept open house for their family and friends, who were expected to stay a few nights or a few weeks, just as it suited them. As Roger had no pied-a-terreof his own in London Droopy^ Ned had insisted on his accepting the freedom of the house, and had instructed his father's major-domo that Roger was always to be given accommodation.
On this occasion, having come up from Stillwaters only the day before, Droopy was still in residence; and Roger found him upstairs in his own suite, amusing himself by re-arranging some of his collection of antique jewellery in a shallow, glass-topped miniature table.
After admiring his friend's most recent purchases Roger produced Georgina's tiara and asked him what he thought it would fetch. Droopy peered at it with his short-sighted pale-blue eyes, then examined the larger stones through a jeweller's lens, and said: " 'Tis the type of thing on which the trade makes a good profit, since its worth lies rather in its decorative effect than its intrinsic value. I doubt if a goldsmith would give you a thousand for it, but I think I could place it in Hatton Garden for twelve-fifty."
"I'd be mightily obliged if you would," Roger said. "I plan to go abroad again, and the balance of nine-hundred, or so, will keep me in funds for quite a while."
Droopy knew all about Roger's hectic love affair with Georgina, but he was much too tactful to inquire the reason for this sudden decision. Instead he asked: "To what part of the continent do you intend to travel?"
"I've no idea as yet," Roger admitted. "But you'll remember that last November, Mr. Pitt offered me employment in some form of foreign service. I mean to write and remind him of his promise, and see if he can suggest something for me."
They supped together and talked afterwards for an hour or so on the tragedy at Stillwaters and other matters; then Roger went to his room and wrote the letter. In it he begged for an early interview, making it plain that he wished to leave England as soon as possible; and the letter was despatched by hand to Downing Street first thing the following morning.
Two days elapsed without his receiving any reply, so on Thursday afternoon he wrote again; but by Saturday evening he had still not received even an acknowledgment of either of his letters.
As he was now becoming worried at the delay he consulted Droopy, who said: "If you wish a swift decision your best plan would be to beard Mr. Pitt in his den. Why not ride down to Holwood Hill, his place near Hayes, in Kent, to-morrow. 'Tis certain you'll find him there, as 'tis a Sunday."
On Roger demurring at the idea of breaking in on the great man Droopy shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Be not so modest, my friend. Since you served him by going to Holland on his behalf in a confidential capacity, I'll warrant that he'll afford you a courteous reception."
So after breakfast next day Roger mounted his horse and set off. It took him some time to ride through the narrow, crowded streets of London, thick with swarms of church-goers dressed in their Sunday best; but the going was easier after the first mile of the Old Kent
Road. At New Cross he turned south, through the pleasant suburb of Lewisham, and so out into the open country. A few miles south of the village of Bromley he inquired for the Prime Minister's house, and ten minutes later was riding up
the drive.
This small estate of Holwood Hill was, as Pitt had remarked himself, "a most beautiful spot, wanting nothing but a house fit to live in," but, even so, it possessed quite a sizeable mansion. He had bought it three years before, mainly on account of its gardens, the improvement of which gave him much delight; and because he had a special fondness for the country round about, having been born and brought up on another property nearby.
At the door Roger inquired for Mr. Pitt, stating that his business was confidential. The footman asked him to wait in the hall, and after a few minutes, returned to say that Mr. Pitt would see him; then took him through the house and out into the garden.
The young Prime Minister was in his shirtsleeves, planting a small magnolia, and seated near him in a wicker chair was an exceptionally delicate-looking man of about the same age. At Roger's approach Pitt looked up, and his long, austere face broke into a smile as he said: "Why, Mr. Brook, 'tis a pleasure to see you again. I thought you had quite forgotten me."
"On the contrary, Sir," Roger bowed. "I have written you twice in the past week, and receiving no reply made so bold as to break in upon your privacy; for which I do most humbly apologise."
"Ah, me!" Pitt shook his head drolly. "I fear I am the laziest of men where dealing with my correspondence is concerned. To my shame I confess that few who write me ever get an answer. In fact, as most of my letters are bills, I've long since given up even opening the demmed things." With a wave of his hand towards his companion, he added: "You know William Wilberforce, of course."
Roger bowed again, to the frail man, whose fine eyes and head made such a contrast to his puny frame.
Wilberforce had been Pitt's contemporary at Cambridge, and had later become his closest personal friend. As the member for Hull, Wilberforce had been one of the staunchest supporters of Pitt's first administration, and during those difficult times the two had been almost inseparable; spending most of their evenings at Goostree's Club, which had been founded by Pitt's friends in opposition to Brooks, and their week-ends at Wilberforce's house on Wimbledon Common, where Pitt had a room always kept ready for him. In '84-'85 Wilberforce had made a long tour abroad, and returned from it with a resolution to lead henceforth a strictly religious life, so in recent years he had withdrawn somewhat from party politics to give more of his time to social reform. His first efforts had been in the direction of amending the criminal law and the suppression of blasphemous and indecent publications; but, only a few months earlier, while seated meditating one day under an oak in Holwood Park, he had come to a definite decision; to devote the rest of his life to the abolition of the Slave Trade.
Although only twenty-eight he had, like his illustrious friend, long been a national figure, so, as Roger bowed, he said: "Mr. Wilberforce's moving eloquence and good works are alike well known to me."
"I thank you, Sir." Wilberforce inclined his head, "f pray you forgive my rising, but since January I have been the victim of a most vicious illness; and am here to-day only to make my adieus to Mr. Pitt before leaving for Bath in the hope of deriving some benefit from its waters."
Pitt gave him an anxious look. "I trust that the fatigue you have sustained in coming here will not affect you adversely."
"Nay. I had to come; and your assurance that you will bring the first measure forward during the next session, should I be unable to do so, are better medicine than any with which a doctor could provide me.
Feeling that he might have interrupted a discussion on political business, Roger said: "Gentlemen, I fear my arrival is inopportune. Permit me to retire and walk a while in these lovely grounds, until a more appropriate moment."
With a wave of his slender hand Pitt dismissed the suggestion. "Our business is finished, and alas, Mr. Wilberforce is only awaiting his carriage to carry him back to Wimbledon." Then turning to his sick friend he added: "Since 'twas I who first persuaded you that parliamentary action would be far more efficacious against the slave traders than any appeal to the sentiment of the nation, 'tis but fair that I should champion the cause in your absence."
" 'Twill add to your difficulties, and bring much odium on you from certain quarters," Wilberforce said frankly.
"I know it. The City of London has never cared for aught save to keep its purse well lined. The merchants of Bristol and Liverpool will raise the devil; and the planters in the sugar-isles will allege that such measures must bring ruin to the nation. But the cause is just; so be of good cheer. I count our first measure as good as already carried."
"Ah, Billy." Wilberforce shook his head a little dubiously. "You were always an optimist. You said the very same in eighty-five, before you brought forward your Bill for winning the friendship of the Irish, and once and for all eliminating the grounds for their centuries-old grievances against us. And you were up against the same thing there; the inherent greed of the British merchants and the middle-classes, mobilised against you by such news sheets as the Morning Chronicle."
Pitt shrugged. " 'Twas, I suppose, too much to expect that such folk could yet have absorbed Adam Smith's great doctrine, that States which throw down their customs barriers become effectually part of the same body, and both benefit in consequence. Look at the admirable effect our recent Commercial Treaty with France is already having. Yet Ireland is nearer, and should be dearer to us. 'Twas my fondest ambition to make the two countries one, and it rankles with me still that my plan was brought to nought by the greed and self-interest of a small minority in our midst."
"Were not the Irish much to blame themselves, Sir?" Roger hazarded. "As I recall it, your generous offer to open our markets freely to their goods would have assured them a great increase of wealth, from the fact that their labour is so much cheaper than ours; yet they boggled over your one condition, that they should assist in their own defence by making a modest annual contribution to the upkeep of the Royal Navy."
"You are right, Mr. Brook, in that certain meaner spirits fastened upon the point; and that the Bill was thrown out in the Dublin Parliament after having passed its first reading at Westminster. Grattan and Flood there, and Burke and Sheridan here, all most shortsightedly opposed these measures which I so earnestly desired to bring about for the benefit of their own country. Yet the real cause of my defeat, was the determination of powerful factions in both Kingdoms to wreck my proposals, by representing each concession made to the sister-island as an injury or insult to the other."
" 'Tis true," Wilberforce agreed. " 'Twas Fox and his friends who whipped up the commercial interests against you, by a campaign of slander and misrepresentation, waged in both countries with a vigour worthy of a better cause. I pray that the same may not be the case. ..."
He broke off as he caught sight of a servant approaching from the house to announce that his carriage was now in readiness.
"Have no fears on that score; and think only of getting well again," Pitt admonished him, as he tenderly helped him to his feet. "The question of Abolition is solely a humanitarian one, and we know already that on this great issue Fox and Burke are both with us."
"Aye; and The Lord!" cried Wilberforce, with shining eyes."For are not the poor negroes His children every wit as much as ourselves? May His blessing be upon you in all things, Billy; and on you, Mr. Brook." '
With a word of thanks Roger offered his arm and assisted Pitt to support the invalid to his carriage. When he was settled comfortably in it the farewells were said, and at an easy pace it drove away. As the other two stood looking after it, Pitt said:
"Now there goes a true Saint; for so great-hearted is he that even the worst of sinners feels no awkwardness in his company. But come, Mr. Brook, let us return to the garden. I crave your indulgence to finish planting my tree; but, if, meanwhile, you will tell me to what I owe the pleasure of this visit, I vow to you that I shall not lose a single word of your discourse."
" 'Tis soon told, Sir. Last November, after my return from Holland, you were good enough to say that you might be able to find m
e some employment of a confidential nature, which would necessitate travelling abroad."
"I remember the occasion perfectly; and, you were then so eager for it, I find it surprising that you have not applied to me before."
The statement implied a question; and Roger had already learned that to win and hold the Prime Minister's esteem one must be frank, brief and to the point; so he said: "I had meant to approach you sooner, but I got caught up in a love-affair."
Pitt looked at him curiously. "The early twenties are the years when the foundations of great careers are laid. I had judged you too ambitious to sacrifice six months at this period of your life to such a purpose, however bright the lady's eyes."
" 'Twas worth it," said Roger simply.
"Since you can say that with such conviction you must be right, and I'll confess to envying you." Pitt smiled. "You see, I have never had a love-affair. 'Tis not that the fair sex lacks attraction for me, but that, somehow, on such occasions as I have felt the inclination, I have never been able to give the time to following the matter up."
"Your loss has been the nation's gain, Sir."
"You are kind to put it so, rather than to chide me with sacrificing the humanities to my ambitions. But reverting to yourself. I recall the details of our conversation now, and realise that your half-year's cessation from worldly striving is not out of keeping with your character. You are intolerant of discipline, and have no desire for public office or to make a career for yourself in one of the Services. Your ambition is rather to indulge your tastes for travel and the society of cultured people; but to do that in comfort you need a greater income than the three hundred a year your father gives you. The assets you have to offer are a good presence, a ready tongue and pen, fluent Latin and French, some Greek and a smattering of German; a specialised knowledge of French foreign policy and the affairs of the Dutch Netherlands; sufficient industry to have held an arduous secretarial post and sufficient courage to wield a pretty blade effectively. Am I right?"
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