by Robert Nye
Then I told him what Stukeley had told me. That I might not be sent to Spain for execution. That I might even be granted some sort of hearing in London. That Howard and Buckingham could help. Every word that I uttered rang hollow.
‘Stukeley’s mad,’ Sam said. ‘Admiral, I wish you’d gone to France.’
*
And, at dawn this Monday morning, Manourie.
The same sentiments more volubly expressed.
He felt sure that my Sovereign Lord misprized me. He could not comprehend why I was treated so. Worse, in his eyes, that I allowed myself to be ruined. Especially when his Sovereign Lord would make me welcome. He rattled off some French proverb: 17 vaut mieux plier que rompre. Better to bend than to break, that’s what it meant.
‘Milord Ralegh, why should you be broken in Spain when you could live out your last days in glory in France?’
I disliked this talk of bending, but let it go.
I asked him for mandragora. That I might sleep in the coach. Also to blunt my own anguish (though I didn’t tell him this).
For the fact is - my Apology being worthless - there’s a voice in some part of me whispering that Sam and Dr Manourie are right.
An old friend and a new friend, unknown to each other, each urging the same course. The coward’s course?
Or the course of a man brave enough to spurn fear of his own cowardice, be master not victim of his destiny, and accept that he might still have some duty: To live?
*
Mist steaming off the rooftops I can see from my window. The sky is a lake of pure cool blue. Robin just brought me a fistful of flowers plucked from the banks of the river Anton. The morning dew has given them new hearts.
*
Monday night.
I did not drink that drowsy syrup.
My mind was made up for good by the afternoon.
Sir Waiter Ralegh refuses to die as Guattaral He condemns himself to life as Guattaral instead.
I shall take Sam’s advice, and the Frenchman’s. Give Stukeley the slip. Escape to France!
*
We are put up at the inn in Hertfordbridge. I just called my friends to my room. The Indian guarded the door. I told them my decision. Robin clapped his hands with joy. I bade him to be silent. Then I addressed myself in a whisper, first to Manourie, then to Sam, saying that what I now proposed was quite impossible without their help. Being once more assured that each was only too eager to offer it, I outlined my plan.
To Manourie I said: ‘Give me more of your abominable physic. I must keep up this pretence that I am a leper. I intend to petition my cousin to advise the Council that it would be best, in these circumstances, to grant me leave to go to my wife’s house in Broad Street. They will insist, of course, that he stays with me as my keeper. But if he thinks me very feeble, and full up to the eyebrows with infection, then his guard won’t be too close, with any luck. I shall escape out of the hands of this Sir Lewis Stukeley by a back-door!’
Manourie nodded. ‘May I attend you in your flight? If I remain in England, they might hang me!’
Of course.’ I paused, having no wish to insult him. But I know he is poor, and in need of employment, so I went on. ‘I would be gratified if you would continue in my service once we are safe in France. I can promise you £50 a year for the rest of your life.’
He grasped my hand.
I cut short his stutterings of gratitude.
Then I turned to Sam King.
‘Sam, I shall get Stukeley’s permission for you to go on ahead of us to Broad Street. I will say that Bess needs warning before she sees me in my leprous state.’
‘And if Stukeley does not grant it?’
‘Then just ride! Either way, with or without my cousin’s consent. Ride like the wind! And not to Broad Street! Ride first to Gravesend. Hire a vessel. Swear her master to secrecy. Instruct him to have her prepared to sail for France on the morning tide next Monday.’
Sam grinned. He clasped my hand. He nodded his approval.
‘Take money from my red leathern coffer in the corner,’ I instructed. ‘Help yourself. Take plenty. Choose your captain with care.’
‘Jack Leigh,’ Sam said thoughtfully. Once your boatswain.’
‘Excellent. You know he is still at Gravesend?’
‘By Windmill Hill’
‘And his vessel?’
‘The Greyhound. A ketch.’
‘Very well. But take no chances. Charter her in your own name. You can say that you want to avoid partaking in my punishment.’
Sam shook his head. ‘Old Jack will see straight through that.’
I hesitated. ‘But he will not betray us?’
‘Never. He’s straight as a die. All the same, I shan’t mention your name. I’ll tell him only that certain other gentlemen of the Destiny intend to fly. Men who have reason to believe that King James wants their blood. Men who distinguished themselves by their loyalty to you.’
‘And if he requires a list of these fine fellows?’
Sam stroked his great moustaches where they compassed his’mouth. Then his lips turned up. ‘I shall put you down as a Mr Richard Head!’
I was grateful to my old companion for making me laugh. I gave him further instructions to hurry back to Broad Street from Gravesend, in order to inform Bess of my coming, to forewarn her indeed that my leper’s appearance is no cause for alarm, and to assure her that within a few days all shall be just as she wishes and her husband safe in France.
Robin fretted. ‘What do I do?’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘Yours is the most subtle part! On the night of our escape you go to Stukeley. You take your gamba with you. You praise his musicianship. You ask for a lengthy lesson. You make certain he gets drunk.’
Robin liked this. He thought of clapping his hands again, then thought better of it.
Manourie said: ‘I shall prepare a strong sleeping draught you can put in his wine.’
The four of us shared a laugh that was pure satisfaction.
*
I believe I’ll sleep well tonight. And no need for mandragora.
47
5 A ugust
Yesterday morning, well-pimpled, thick-blistered, and having tied a silk ribbon about my arms to distemper my pulse, I sent word down by Robin to Stukeley, requesting that for pity and kinship’s sake he allowed me one more day and night to rest at Hertfordbridge, and that he might while we were there ask license from the Privy Council to let him deliver me to Broad Street until such time as I was claimed by Gondomar.
A few minutes later, my cousin appeared in plump person at my chamber door.
He was sucking an oyster.
‘Sir Walter,’ he declared. ‘Consider it done!’
‘My weary bones—’
‘Yes, yes. You must rest them.’
‘And the other matter? The Council? You think they will permit it?’
Stukeley raised the first two fingers of his left hand, crossed together. ‘The Lord Admiral and myself We are like that.’
‘You are kind to me, cousin.’
‘I am your friend. If only you would see! But I allow for your present sickness distorting your judgement.’
I nodded my head weakly. ‘Sir Lewis, a further boon. Lady Ralegh - she will not be prepared for the hideous sight I must present. Also, as an invalid, I shall require a room in the house where there’s no risk of infecting her. May I send my man King on to London ahead of us? To forewarn her? And to break the news gently?’
Stukeley spread his hands wide in a gesture that aped huge benevolence.
‘Why not?’ he said.
I thank you, cousin.’
Stukeley guzzled the oyster.
‘Do not despair,’ he advised me cheerfully. ‘Your sickness makes you look on the black side.’ ‘What is the white side, Sir Lewis?’
‘That Gondomar’s demand will be rejected by his Spanish masters. If I was a betting man, I’d be wagering heavily on it.’
‘And the odds against my having a t
rial?’
Stukeley was peering about for somewhere to dispose of his oyster shell. I pointed at my chamber pot. He took careful aim. He missed.
Then he said: ‘I’ll be honest with you, as always. The Council may want a trial, but the King will not. He’ll be remembering your eloquence at Winchester. There was one of his Scotch friends who heard you then. He said that before the trial he would have gone a hundred miles to see you hanged. But, after, he would have gone a thousand to save your life. Of course, his Majesty is very unpredictable. But I must say I reckon it’s odds on - he’s frightened of your tongue; he won’t permit you to use it in public at a trial.’
I indulged myself in a furious bout of coughing.
My cousin stepped back into the gallery. He covered his mouth with his sleeve.
I croaked after him: ‘I am a betting man, Sir Lewis, and I think your reading of the probabilities is exact. I’d wager all that tobacco money on it!’
‘Then you would win your wager, but lose your life.’ Stukeley took a quick nervous glance up and down the gallery. There was evidently no one in sight save the Indian, for he added in a piercing whisper: ‘There’s a better thing to do with the tobacco money, and you know it.’
He waited, shifting from one foot to the other.
I said nothing.
Stukeley shrugged his padded shoulders. Then he went.
*
Sam was gone on his errand by yesterday noon.
*
This morning, Wednesday, we resumed our funereal progress. In the carriage, I told the Indian of my plan. I spoke low, and in Spanish. Stukeley, riding at the window, could not even have known I was talking. I am sure of it. There was wind, and some driving rain to chasten at last this intolerable summer. I was pleased to see my dear cousin getting soaked to the skin.
The Indian expressed no surprise at my change of heart. If he felt disapproval, he did not show it. He sat hunched in silence for a long while. Then he said: ‘Will Guattaral take me with him?’
I said I would.
*
I was feeling quite satisfied with myself by the time that we got here to Staines. The hostelry is clean. I had taken action. Once more I observe how simply to take any action, however desperate or risky, can serve to lift my spirits. As if I am a clock. I need to strike! It is the slow descent of the weight of my thoughts which depresses me. Then I swing to and fro like a pendulum locked in a case. And the winding up is hard, and the decision to apply the key harder. But once I have done it - and the chimes come - what relief!
*
Just now I asked Robin to fetch me some cold turkey to my chamber. I was eating it, when Stukeley came to the door. He didn’t knock. The Indian followed him in.
‘So your appetite has returned,’ my cousin remarked.
I gave a long sigh of fatigue. I handed my plate back to Robin. Only half the cold turkey was gone. I could have done with the rest of it.
‘The worst must be passed,’ Stukeley said.
‘I hope so. Dr Manourie does his best.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said my cousin. ‘An excellent type - for a Frenchman. I never trust froggies myself, but that one seems decent enough. His appearance, of course, is disgusting. What on earth ate that hole in his hat?’
I never judge my doctors by their hats.’
Stukeley chuckled. He seemed in uncommonly good humour. His fat boyish cheeks were flushed pink. I guessed that he’d warmed himself well with ale or wine, the better to forget his ride in the rain.
‘I trust you sleep soundly, Sir Walter.’
‘And you, cousin Lewis, and you.’
‘Me?’ He slapped his thick sides. ‘Oh, I always sleep as sound as any log. I have a little recipe. Infallible. I play my violin. That sends me off.’
‘Heaven is music,’ I observed.
He beamed. ‘Just so. You have such a way with words. I envy you. Heaven is music. God, I wish I could come out with things like that’
‘Sir Lewis, it was only a quotation.’
He scowled. ‘Shakespeare again, eh?’
‘No. Thomas Campion.’
He brightened up. ‘Ah, Campion. Campion is a doctor, is he not?’
‘I believe he is. But I have not seen his hat’
Stukeley emitted a high-pitched screech of laughter. ‘Your wit has returned too,’ he cried. ‘Why, you’ll soon be yourself again, Sir Walter.’ He turned to go. ‘All the same, we shall rest here two nights.’
This suits me fine. I murmured gratitude.
‘Think nothing of it,’ my cousin said.
*
I think plenty of it, and not all good. Stukeley’s excess of joviality is somehow disturbing. I even wonder if my meat was poisoned
48
6 August
My meat wasn’t poisoned.
But I was right to feel misgivings.
Things have changed.
*
When I woke this morning there were four figures seated around my bed. Two were familiar: Robin and the Indian. The other two were a couple of Stukeley’s men.
Robin said: ‘Master, we could not prevent this. Your cousin insisted—’
I waved my hand, cautioning silence.
I addressed the Indian in Spanish. ‘What does this mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Nor do I know if either of these watchdogs can bark in this tongue.’
My eyes flickered over the intruders. They sat with stony expressions, their hands on their knees. But one had a faint spot of anger staining his forehead. I guessed that he spoke Spanish, and had not much cared for this reference to him as a watchdog.
I lay silent for a while. Then I told Robin I’d like some breakfast. He brought it. My cousin came close on his heels.
‘You slept well, Sir Walter?’
‘I slept better than I woke. These fellows of yours, they take my air. Why are they here? Why all this extra diligence?’
Stukeley was biting his fingernails. He seemed embarrassed. ‘To make sure you don’t escape me, you traitor!’ he cried in a loud voice. Then he turned to his minions. ‘I relieve you of your duty,’ he said. ‘Go and get something to eat. The rogue can’t run while I am here to watch him.’
He ordered Robin and the Indian to leave also.
When he had checked that no one remained in the gallery, he approached my bed, smiling. ‘Cousin Walter,’ he said, ‘I apologise.’
‘For calling me names?’
Stukeley winked. ‘That was for their benefit. You understand? Listen, I beg you, listen carefully. I swear as I hope to see God that what I say is true. I have no choice in this matter of guards being posted in your chamber. Word was sent in the night. From the King!’
‘Not from the Privy Council?’
‘From King James himself! From Salisbury! By personal messenger. Express orders. I am not to let you out of my surveillance night or day.’
‘His Majesty is most solicitous,’ I murmured.
‘Cousin, forego this sarcasm. We have no time for it.’
‘What do we have time for, Sir Lewis?’
‘For France,’ Stukeley hissed. ‘For France! For freedom!’
‘You would go to the Tower,’ I said softly.
‘No,’ Stukeley said. ‘I’d go with you.’
He was smiling and smiling, like a madman.
I said nothing. I watched his lips twitching in that smile.
‘My God!’ Stukeley cried. ‘What do I have to do to prove my love for you? You realise just what going with you means? I am Vice Admiral of Devon. That’s worth £600 a year in itself. You have held such high positions in the kingdom. You know how other money tends to flow from them—’ He sniffed. ‘Of course, I’m sure you wouldn’t care to see your kinsman starve.’
I thought for a while. At last, I said:
‘So you are still willing to assist me? To fool your own men? Disobey the King?’
‘Yes!’
‘Willing even to share my life
in France?’ He nodded vigorously. He smiled. His eyes were wild. ‘Sir Lewis,’ I said, ‘would you be willing to share my death with me?’
I held out my right hand. It was mottled with Dr Manourie’s foul pustules.
‘Cousin,’ I warned him, ‘there could be death in that hand. The infection—’
Stukeley did not hesitate.
He grasped my one hand tight between his two.
*
I asked for a little more time to think things over. Cousin Lewis withdrew. My two guards and the Indian came back. I told Robin, when he came, to fetch pipe and tobacco to my bedside.
I lay smoking.
I sought to reduce my thoughts to some shape of sense.
*
Several long pipes later, I sent Robin to ask my cousin if Dr Manourie could come and dress my sores. And if the guards could be withdrawn to the door while this necessary office was performed. They might stand just outside, I suggested. And I wrote on a piece of paper: ‘Grant this, and the Frenchman will be sent to you with my answer.’
Stukeley must have gone through an agony of wondering over the matter. It was almost an hour before Robin returned. But, when he did, my cousin was with him. He dismissed the guards to the gallery. He insisted that the Indian and Robin go out too. Then he sent word for Manourie to come. When the Frenchman came, my cousin left us alone. ‘But only for ten minutes,’ he added suspiciously.
*
I told Manourie all that had happened. He paced up and down. He looked worried.
‘Il ne faut jamais défier un fou,’ he muttered. ‘Never bid defiance to a fool.’
‘My cousin is not just a fool. He is mad. And it’s not just a question of defying him. I have to trust him now. I have no choice!’
‘But once we reach your wife’s house—’
I shook my head impatiently. ‘With two of his men in attendance on me night and day? No. This changes everything. There is only one way I can get to Gravesend. By taking my wretched kinsman at his word.’
‘You will tell him everything?’
‘I will tell him enough.’
‘He might kill me!’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll say nothing about your helping me to counterfeit this sickness. In fact, he can go on believing I’m a leper. Imagine! He shook my hand!’
