CHAPTER XIII
AN IDEA
The triumph was complete. But of a truth the game was waxing dangerous.
Lady Sue Aldmarshe had promised to marry her prince. She would keep herword, of that Sir Marmaduke was firmly convinced. But there would ofnecessity be two or three days delay and every hour added to theterrors, the certainty of discovery.
There was a watch-dog at Sue's heels, stern, alert, unyielding. RichardLambert was probing the secret of the mysterious prince, with theunerring eye of the disappointed lover.
The meeting to-night had been terribly dangerous. Sir Marmaduke knewthat Lambert was lurking somewhere in the park.
At present even the remotest inkling of the truth must still be far fromthe young man's mind. The whole scheme was so strange, so daring, soforeign to the simple ideas of the Quaker-bred lad, that its veryboldness had defied suspicion. But the slightest mischance now, ameeting at the door of the pavilion, an altercation--face to face, eyeto eye--and Richard Lambert would be on the alert. His hatred would notbe so blind, nor yet so clumsy, as that of his brother, the blacksmith.There is no spy so keen in all the world as a jealous lover.
This had been the prince's first meeting with Sue, since that memorableday when the secret of their clandestine love became known to Lambert.Sir Marmaduke knew well that it had been fraught with danger; that everyfuture meeting would wax more and more perilous still, and that thesecret marriage itself, however carefully and secretively planned, wouldhardly escape the prying eyes of the young man.
The unmasking of Prince Amede d'Orleans before Sue had become legallyhis wife was a possibility which Sir Marmaduke dared not even think of,lest the very thought should drive him mad. Once she was his wife! ...well, let her look to herself.... The marriage tie would be a bindingone, he would see to that, and her fortune should be his, even though hehad won her by a lie.
He had staked his very existence on the success of his scheme. LadySue's fortune was the one aim of his life, for it he had worked andstriven, and lied: he would not even contemplate a future without it,now that his plans had brought him so near the goal.
He had one faithful ally, though not a powerful one, in Editha, who,lured by some vague promises of his, desperate too, as regarded her ownfuture, had chosen to throw in her lot whole-heartedly with his.
He was closeted with her on the following day, in the tinywithdrawing-room which leads out of the hall at Acol Court. When he hadstolen into the house in the small hours of the morning he had seenRichard Lambert leaning out of one of the windows which gave upon thepark.
It seemed as if the young man must have seen him when he skirted thehouse, for though there was no moonlight, the summer's night wassingularly clear. That Lambert had been on the watch--spying, as SirMarmaduke said with a bitter oath of rage--was beyond a doubt.
Editha too was uneasy; she thought that Lambert had purposely avoidedher the whole morning.
"I lingered in the garden for as long as I could," she said to herbrother-in-law, watching with keen anxiety his restless movements to andfro in the narrow room, "I thought Lambert would keep within doors if hesaw me about. He did not actually see you, Marmaduke, did he?" shequeried with ever-growing disquietude.
"No. Not face to face," he replied curtly. "I contrived to avoid him inthe park, and kept well within the shadows, when I saw him spyingthrough the window.
"Curse him!" he added with savage fury, "curse him, for a meddlesome,spying cur!"
"The whole thing is becoming vastly dangerous," she sighed.
"Yet it must last for another few weeks at least...."
"I know ... and Lambert is a desperate enemy: he dogs Sue's footsteps,he will come upon you one day when you are alone, or with her ... hewill provoke a quarrel...."
"I know--I know ..." he retorted impatiently, "'tis no userecapitulating the many evil contingencies that might occur.... I knowthat Lambert is dangerous ... damn him! ... Would to God I could be ridof him ... somehow."
"You can dismiss him," she suggested, "pay him his wages and send himabout his business."
"What were the use? He would remain in the village--in his brother'scottage mayhap ... with more time on his hands for his spying work....He would dog the wench's steps more jealously than eve.... No! no!" headded, whilst he cast a quick, furtive look at her--a look which somehowcaused her to shiver with apprehension more deadly than heretofore.
"That's not what I want," he said significantly.
"What's to be done?" she murmured, "what's to be done?"
"I must think," he rejoined harshly. "But we must get that love-sickyouth out of the way ... him and his airs of Providence in disguise....Something must be done to part him from the wench effectually andcompletely ... something that would force him to quit this neighborhood... forever, if possible."
She did not reply immediately, but fixed her large, dark eyes upon him,silently for a while, then she murmured:
"If I only knew!"
"Knew what?"
"If I could trust you, Marmaduke!"
He laughed, a harsh, cruel laugh which grated upon her ear.
"We know too much of one another, my dear Editha, not to trust eachother."
"My whole future depends on you. I am penniless. If you marry Sue...."
"I can provide for you," he interrupted roughly. "What can I do now? Mypenury is worse than yours. So, my dear, if you have a plan to propoundfor the furtherance of my schemes, I pray you do not let your fear ofthe future prevent you from lending me a helping hand."
"A thought crossed my mind," she said eagerly, "the thought of somethingwhich would effectually force Richard Lambert to quit this neighborhoodfor ever."
"What were that?"
"Disgrace."
"Disgrace?" he exclaimed. "Aye! you are right. Something mean ... paltry... despicable ... something that would make her gracious ladyship turnaway from him in disgust ... and would force him to go away from here... for ever."
He looked at her closely, scrutinizing her face, trying to read herthoughts.
"A thought crossed your mind," he demanded peremptorily. "What is it?"
"The house in London," she murmured.
"You are not afraid?"
"Oh!" she said with a careless shrug of the shoulders.
"The Protector's spies are keen," he urged, eager to test her courage,her desire to help him.
"They'll scarce remember me after two years."
"Hm! Their memory is keen ... and the new laws doubly severe."
"We'll be cautious."
"How can you let your usual clients know? They are dispersed."
"Oh, no! My Lord Walterton is as keen as ever and Sir James Overburywould brave the devil for a night at hazard. A message to them and we'llhave a crowd every night."
"'Tis well thought on, Editha," he said approvingly. "But we must notdelay. Will you go to London to-morrow?"
"An you approve."
"Aye! you can take the Dover coach and be in town by nightfall. Thenwrite your letters to my Lord Walterton and Sir James Overbury. Get aserving wench from Alverstone's in the Strand, and ask the gentlemen tobring their own men, for the sake of greater safety. They'll notrefuse."
"Refuse?" she said with a light laugh, "oh, no!"
"To-day being Tuesday, you should have your first evening entertainmenton Friday. Everything could be ready by then."
"Oh, yes!"
"Very well then, on Friday, I, too, will arrive in London, my dearEditha, escorted by my secretary, Master Richard Lambert, and togetherwe will call and pay our respects at your charming house in BathStreet."
"I will do my share. You must do yours, Marmaduke. Endicott will helpyou: he is keen and clever. And if Lambert but takes a card in his hand..."
"Nay! he will take the cards, mine oath on that! Do you but arrange itall with Endicott."
"And, Marmaduke, I entreat you," she urged now with sudden earnestness,"I entreat you to beware of my Lord Protector's spies. Think of theconseq
uences for me!"
"Aye!" he said roughly, laughing that wicked, cruel laugh of his, whichdamped her eagerness, and struck chill terror into her heart, "aye! thewhipping-post for you, fair Editha, for keeping a gaming-house. What? Ofa truth I need not urge you to be cautious."
Probably at this moment she would have given worlds--had she possessedthem--if she could but have dissociated herself from herbrother-in-law's future altogether. Though she was an empty-headed,brainless kind of woman, she was not by nature a wicked one. Necessityhad driven her into linking her fortunes with those of Sir Marmaduke.And he had been kind to her, when she was in deep distress: but for himshe would probably have starved, for her beauty had gone and her careeras an actress had been, for some inexplicable reason, quite suddenly cutshort, whilst a police raid on the gaming-house over which she presidedhad very nearly landed her in a convict's cell.
She had escaped severe punishment then, chiefly because Cromwell's lawsagainst gambling were not so rigorous at the time as they had sincebecome, also because she was able to plead ignorance of them, andbecause of the status of first offense.
Therefore she knew quite well what she risked through the scheme whichshe had so boldly propounded to Sir Marmaduke. Dire disgrace and infamy,if my Lord Protector's spies once more came upon the gamesters in herhouse--unawares.
Utter social ruin and worse! Yet she risked it all, in order to helphim. She did not love him, nor had she any hopes that he would of hisown free will do more than give her a bare pittance for her needs oncehe had secured Lady Sue's fortune; but she was shrewd enough to reckonthat the more completely she was mixed up in his nefarious projects, themore absolutely forced would he be to accede to her demands later on.The word blackmail had not been invented in those days, but the deeditself existed and what Editha had in her mind when she risked ostracismfor Sir Marmaduke's sake was something very akin to it.
But he, in the meanwhile, had thrown off his dejection. He was full ofeagerness, of anticipated triumph now.
The rough idea which was to help him in his schemes had originated inEditha's brain, but already he had elaborated it; had seen in the plan ameans not only of attaining his own ends with regard to Sue, but alsoof wreaking a pleasing vengeance on the man who was trying to frustratehim.
"I pray you, be of good cheer, fair Editha," he said quite gaily. "Yourplan is good and sound, and meseems as if the wench's fortune werealready within my grasp."
"Within our grasp, you mean, Marmaduke," she said significantly.
"Our grasp of course, gracious lady," he said with a marked sneer, whichshe affected to ignore. "What is mine is yours. Am I not tied to thestrings of your kirtle by lasting bonds of infinite gratitude?"
"I will start to-morrow then. By chaise to Dover and thence by coach,"she said coldly, taking no heed of his irony. "'Twere best you did notassume your romantic role again until after your own voyage to London.You can give me some money I presume. I can do nothing with an emptypurse."
"You shall have the whole contents of mine, gracious Editha," he saidblandly, "some ten pounds in all, until the happy day when I can placehalf a million at your feet."
PART II
The Nest of the Sparrowhawk: A Romance of the XVIIth Century Page 13
