by Anthony Hope
CHAPTER VII
WHAT CAME OF HONESTY
I should sin against the truth and thereby rob this my story of itssolitary virtue were I to pretend that my troubles and perplexities,severe as they seemed, outweighed the pleasure and new excitement of mylife. Ambition was in my head, youth in my veins, my eyes looked out ona gay world with a regard none too austere. Against these things evenlove's might can wage but an equal battle. For the moment, I mustconfess, my going to Court, with the prospect it opened and the chancesit held, dominated my mind, and Jonah Wall, my servant, was kept busy inpreparing me for the great event. I had made a discovery concerning thisfellow which afforded me much amusement: coming on him suddenly, I foundhim deeply engaged on a Puritan Psalm-book, sighing and casting up hiseyes to heaven in a ludicrous excess of glum-faced piety. I pressed himhard and merrily, when it appeared that he was as thorough a Ranter asmy friend Phineas himself, and held the Court and all in it to beutterly given over to Satan, an opinion not without some warrant, hadhe observed any moderation in advancing it. Not wishing to harm him, Ikept my knowledge to myself, but found a malicious sport in setting himto supply me with all the varieties of raiment, perfumes, and othergauds--that last was his word, not mine--which he abhorred, but which MrSimon Dale's new-born desire for fashion made imperative, however littleMr Simon Dale's purse could properly afford the expense of them. Thetruth is that Mistress Barbara's behaviour spurred me on. I had no mindto be set down a rustic; I could stomach disapproval and endureseverity; pitied for a misguided be-fooled clod I would not be; and thebest way to avoid such a fate seemed to lie in showing myself asreckless a gallant and as fine a roisterer as any at Whitehall. So Idipped freely and deep into my purse, till Jonah groaned as woefully formy extravagance as for my frivolity. All day he was in great fear lest Ishould take him with me to Court to the extreme peril of his soul; butprudence at last stepped in and bade me spare myself the cost of a richlivery by leaving him behind.
Now Heaven forbid that I should imitate my servant's sour folly (for, ifa man must be a fool, I would have him a cheerful fool) or find anythingto blame in the pomp and seemly splendour of a Royal Court; yet theprofusion that met my eyes amazed me. It was the King's whim that onthis night himself, his friends, and principal gentlemen should, for noreason whatsoever except the quicker disbursing of their money, assumePersian attire, and they were one and all decked out in richest Orientalgarments, in many cases lavishly embroidered with precious stones. TheDuke of Buckingham seemed all ablaze, and the other courtiers and witswere little less magnificent, foremost among them being the young Dukeof Monmouth, whom I now saw for the first time and thought as handsome ayouth as I had set eyes on. The ladies did not enjoy the licence offeredby this new fashion, but they contrived to hold their own in the Frenchmode, and I, who had heard much of the poverty of the nation, thenecessities of the fleet, and the straits in which the King foundhimself for money, was left gaping in sheer wonder whence came all thewealth that was displayed before my eyes. My own poor preparations lostall their charm, and I had not been above half an hour in the placebefore I was seeking a quiet corner in which to hide the poverty of mycoat and the plainness of my cloak. But the desire for privacy thus bredin me was not to find satisfaction. Darrell, whom I had not met all day,now pounced on me and carried me off, declaring that he was charged topresent me to the Duke of York. Trembling between fear and exultation, Iwalked with him across the floor, threading my way through the dazzlingthrong that covered the space in front of His Majesty's dais. But beforewe came to the Duke, a gentleman caught my companion by the arm andasked him how he did in a hearty, cheerful, and rather loud voice.Darrell's answer was to pull me forward and present me, saying that SirThomas Clifford desired my acquaintance, and adding much that erredthrough kindness of my parts and disposition.
"Nay, if he's your friend, it's enough for me, Darrell," answeredClifford, and putting his mouth to Darrell's ear he whispered. Darrellshook his head, and I thought that the Treasurer seemed disappointed.However, he bade me farewell with cordiality.
"What did he ask you?" said I, when we started on our way again.
"Only whether you shared my superstition," answered Darrell with alaugh.
"They're all mighty anxious about my religion," thought I. "It would dono harm if they bestowed more attention on their own."
Suddenly turning a corner, we came on a group in a recess hung on threesides with curtains and furnished with low couches in the manner of anOriental divan. The Duke of York, who seemed to me a handsome courtlyprince, was sitting, and by him Lord Arlington. Opposite to them stood agentleman to whom the Duke, when I had made my bow, presented me,bidding me know Mr Hudleston, the Queen's Chaplain. I was familiar withhis name, having often, heard of the Romish priest who befriended theKing in his flight from Worcester. I was examining his features with theinterest that an unknown face belonging to a well-known name has for us,when the Duke addressed me with a suave and lofty graciousness, hismanner being in a marked degree more ceremonious than the King's.
"My Lord Arlington," said he, "has commended you, sir, as a younggentleman of most loyal sentiments. My brother and we who love him havegreat need of the services of all such."
I stammered out an assurance of devotion. Arlington rose and took me bythe arm, whispering that I had no need to be embarrassed. But MrHudleston turned a keen and searching glance on me, as though he wouldread my thoughts.
"I'm sure," said Arlington, "that Mr Dale is most solicitous to serveHis Majesty in all things."
I bowed, saying to the Duke,
"Indeed I am, sir. I ask nothing but an opportunity."
"In all things?" asked Hudleston abruptly. "In all things, sir?" Hefixed his keen eyes on my face.
Arlington pressed my arm and smiled pleasantly; he knew that kindnessbinds more sheaves than severity.
"Come, Mr Dale says in all things," he observed. "Do we need more,sir?"
But the Duke was rather of the priest's temper than of the Minister's.
"Why, my lord," he answered, "I have never known Mr Hudleston ask aquestion without a reason for it."
"By serving the King in all things, some mean in all things in whichthey may be pleased to serve the King," said Hudleston gravely. "Is MrDale one of these? Is it the King's pleasure or his own that sets thelimit to his duty and his services?"
They were all looking at me now, and it seemed as though we had passedfrom courtly phrases, such as fall readily but with little import from aman's lips, and had come to a graver matter. They were asking somepledge of me, or their looks belied them. Why or to what end theydesired it, I could not tell; but Darrell, who stood behind the priest,nodded his head to me with an anxious frown.
"I will obey the King in all things," I began.
"Well said, well said," murmured Arlington.
"Saving," I proceeded, thinking it my duty to make this addition, andnot conceiving that there could be harm in it, "the liberties of theKingdom and the safety of the Reformed Religion."
I felt Arlington's hand drawn half-away, but in an instant it was back,and he smiled no less pleasantly than before. But the Duke, less able orless careful to conceal his mood, frowned heavily, while Hudleston criedimpatiently,
"Reservations! Kings are not served with reservations, sir."
He made me angry. Had the Duke said what he did, I would have taken itwith a dutiful bow and a silent tongue. But who was this priest to rateme in such a style? My temper banished my prudence, and, bending my headtowards him, I answered:
"Yet the Crown itself is worn with these reservations, sir, and the Kinghimself allows them."
For a moment nobody spoke. Then Arlington said,
"I fear, sir, Mr Dale is as yet less a courtier than an honestgentleman."
The Duke rose to his feet.
"I have found no fault with Mr Dale," said he haughtily and coldly, and,taking no more heed of me, he walked away, while Hudleston, havingbestowed on me an angry glance, followed him.
"Mr Dale, Mr Dale!" whispered Arlington, and with no more than that,although still with a smile, he slipped his arm out of mine and left me,beckoning Darrell to go with him. Darrell obeyed with a shrug ofdespair. I was alone--and, as it seemed, ruined. Alas, why must I blurtout my old lessons as though I had been standing again at my father'sknee and not in the presence of the Duke of York? Yes, my race was runbefore it was begun. The Court was not the place for me. In greatbitterness I flung myself down on the cushions and sat there, out ofheart and very dismal. A moment passed; then the curtain behind me wasdrawn aside, and an amused laugh sounded in my ear as I turned. A youngman leapt over the couch and threw himself down beside me, laughingheartily and crying,
"Well done, well done! I'd have given a thousand crowns to see theirfaces!"
I sprang to my feet in amazement and confusion, bowing low, for theyoung man by me was the Duke of Monmouth.
"Sit, man," said he, pulling me down again. "I was behind the curtain,and heard it all. Thank God, I held my laughter in till they were gone.The liberties of the Kingdom and the safety of the Reformed Religion!Here's a story for the King!" He lay back, seeming to enjoy the jestmost hugely.
"For the love of heaven, sir," I cried, "don't tell the King! I'malready ruined."
"Why, so you are, with my good uncle," said he. "You're new to Court, MrDale?"
"Most sadly new," I answered in a rueful tone, which set him laughingagain.
"You hadn't heard the scandalous stories that accuse the Duke of lovingthe Reformed Religion no better than the liberties of the Kingdom?"
"Indeed, no, sir."
"And my Lord Arlington? I know him! He held your arm, to the last, andhe smiled to the last?"
"Indeed, sir, my lord was most gentle to me."
"Aye, I know his way. Mr Dale, for this entertainment let me call youfriend. Come then, we'll go to the King with it." And, rising, he seizedme by the arm and began to drag me off.
"Indeed your Grace must pardon me----" I began.
"But indeed I will not," he persisted. Then he suddenly grew grave as hesaid, "I am for the liberties of the Kingdom and the safety of theReformed Religion. Aren't we friends, then?"
"Your Grace does me infinite honour."
"And am I no good friend? Is there no value in the friendship of theKing's son--the King's eldest son?" He drew himself up with a grace anda dignity which became him wonderfully. Often in these later days I seehim as he was then, and think of him with tenderness. Say what you will,he made many love him even to death, who would not have lifted a fingerfor his father or the Duke of York.
Yet in an instant--such slaves are we of our moods--I was more than halfin a rage with him. For as we went we encountered Mistress Barbara onLord Carford's arm. The quarrel between them seemed past and they weretalking merrily together. On the sight of her the Duke left me and ranforward. By an adroit movement he thrust Carford aside and began to plythe lady with most extravagant and high-flown compliments, displayingan excess of devotion which witnessed more admiration than respect. Shehad treated me as a boy, but she did not tell him that he was a boy,although he was younger than I; she listened with heightened colour andsparkling eyes. I glanced at Carford and found, to my surprise, no signsof annoyance at his unceremonious deposition. He was watching the pairwith a shrewd smile and seemed to mark with pleasure the girl's prideand the young Duke's evident passion. Yet I, who heard something of whatpassed, had much ado not to step in and bid her pay no heed to homagethat was empty if not dishonouring.
Suddenly the Duke turned round and called to me.
"Mr Dale," he cried, "there needed but one thing to bind us closer, andhere it is! For you are, I learn, the friend of Mistress Quinton, and Iam the humblest of her slaves, who serve all her friends for her sake."
"Why, what would your Grace do for my sake?" asked Barbara.
"What wouldn't I?" he cried, as if transported. Then he added ratherlow, "Though I fear you're too cruel to do anything for mine."
"I am listening to the most ridiculous speeches in the world for yourGrace's sake," said Barbara with a pretty curtsey and a coquettishsmile.
"Is love ridiculous?" he asked. "Is passion a thing to smile at? CruelMistress Barbara!"
"Won't your Grace set it in verse?" said she.
"Your grace writes it in verse on my heart," said he.
Then Barbara looked across at me, it might be accidentally, yet it didnot appear so, and she laughed merrily. It needed no skill to measurethe meaning of her laugh, and I did not blame her for it. She had waitedfor years to avenge the kiss that I gave Cydaria in the Manor Park atHatchstead; but was it not well avenged when I stood humbly, indeferential silence, at the back while his Grace the Duke sued for herfavour, and half the Court looked on? I will not set myself down a churlwhere nature has not made me one; I said in my heart, and I tried to sayto her with my eyes, "Laugh, sweet mistress, laugh!" For I love a girlwho will laugh at you when the game runs in her favour.
The Duke fell to his protestations again, and Carford still listenedwith an acquiescence that seemed strange in a suitor for the lady'shand. But now Barbara's modesty took alarm; the signal of confusion flewin her cheeks, and she looked round, distressed to see how many watchedthem. Monmouth cared not a jot. I made bold to slip across to Carford,and said to him in a low tone,
"My lord, his Grace makes Mistress Barbara too much marked. Can't youcontrive to interrupt him?"
He stared at me with a smile of wonder. But something in my lookbanished his smile and set a frown in its place.
"Must I have more lessons in manners from you, sir?" he asked. "And doyou include a discourse on the interrupting of princes?"
"Princes?" said I.
"The Duke of Monmouth is----"
"The King's son, my lord," I interposed, and, carrying my hat in myhand, I walked up to Barbara and the Duke. She looked at me as I came,but not now mockingly; there was rather an appeal in her eyes.
"Your Grace will not let me lose my audience with the King?" said I.
He started, looked at me, frowned, looked at Barbara, frowned deeperstill. I remained quiet, in an attitude of great deference. Puzzled toknow whether I had spoken in sheer simplicity and ignorance, or with ameaning which seemed too bold to believe in, he broke into a doubtfullaugh. In an instant Barbara drew away with a curtsey. He did not pursueher, but caught my arm, and looked hard and straight in my face. I amhappily somewhat wooden of feature, and a man could not make me colournow, although a woman could. He took nothing by his examination.
"You interrupted me," he said.
"Alas, your Grace knows how poor a courtier I am, and how ignorant----"
"Ignorant!" he cried; "yes, you're mighty ignorant, no doubt; but Ibegin to think you know a pretty face when you see it, Master SimonDale. Well, I'll not quarrel. Isn't she the most admirable creaturealive?"
"I had supposed Lord Carford thought so, sir."
"Oh! And yet Lord Carford did not hurry me off to find the King! Butyou? What say you to the question?"
"I'm so dazzled, sir, by all the beautiful ladies of His Majesty's Courtthat I can hardly perceive individual charms."
He laughed again, and pinched my arm, saying,
"We all love what we have not. The Duke of York is in love with truth,the King with chastity, Buckingham with modesty of demeanour, Rochesterwith seemliness, Arlington with sincerity, and I, Simon--I do fairlyworship discretion!"
"Indeed I fear I can boast of little, sir."
"You shall boast of none, and thereby show the more, Simon. Come,there's the King." And he darted on, in equal good humour, as it seemed,with himself and me. Moreover, he lost no time on his errand; for when Ireached his side (since they who made way for him afforded me no suchcivility) he had not only reached the King's chair, but was half-waythrough his story of my answer to the Duke of York; all chance ofstopping him was gone.
"Now I'm damned indeed," thought I; but I set my teeth, and listenedwith unmoved face.
At this moment the King was alone, save for ourselves and a littlelong-eared dog which lay on his lap and was incessantly caressed withhis hand. He heard his son's story with a face as impassive as I stroveto render mine. At the end he looked up at me, asking,
"What are these liberties which are so dear to you, sir?"
My tongue had got me into trouble enough for one day, so I set its musicto a softer tune.
"Those which I see preserved and honoured by your Majesty," said I,bowing.
Monmouth laughed, and clapped me on the back; but the King proceededgravely:
"And this Reformed Religion that you set above my orders?"
"The Faith, Sir, of which you are Defender."
"Come, Mr Dale," said he, rather surly, "if you had spoken to my brotheras skilfully as you fence with me, he would not have been angry."
I do not know what came over me. I said it in all honest simplicity,meaning only to excuse myself for the disrespect I had shown to theDuke; but I phrased the sentence most vilely, for I said:
"When His Royal Highness questioned me, Sir, I had to speak the truth."
Monmouth burst into a roar, and a moment later the King followed with amore subdued but not less thorough merriment. When his mirth subsided hesaid,
"True, Mr Dale. I am a King, and no man is bound to speak truth to me.Nor, by heaven--and there's a compensation--I to any man!"
"Nor woman," said Monmouth, looking at the ceiling in apparent absenceof mind.
"Nor even boy," added the King, with an amused glance at his son. "Well,Mr Dale, can you serve me and this conscience of yours also?"
"Indeed I cannot doubt it, Sir," said I.
"A man's king should be his conscience," said the King.
"And what should be conscience to the King, Sir?" asked Monmouth.
"Why, James, a recognition of what evil things he may bring into theworld, if he doesn't mind his ways."
Monmouth saw the hit, and took it with pretty grace, bending and kissingthe King's hand.
"It is difficult, Mr Dale, to serve two masters," said the King, turningagain to me.
"Your Majesty is my only master," I began; but the King interrupted me,going on with some amusement:
"Yet I should like to have seen my brother."
"Let him serve me, Sir," cried Monmouth. "For I am firm in my love ofthese liberties, aye, and of the Reformed Religion."
"I know, James, I know," nodded the King. "It is grievous and strange,however, that you should speak as though my brother were not." Hesmiled very maliciously at the young Duke, who flushed red. The Kingsuddenly laughed, and fell to fondling the little dog again.
"Then, Sir," said Monmouth, "Mr Dale may come with me to Dover?"
My heart leapt, for all the talk now was of Dover, of the gaiety thatwould be there, and the corresponding dulness in London, when the Kingand the Duke were gone to meet Madame d'Orleans. I longed to go, and thelittle hope I had cherished that Darrell's good offices with theSecretary of State would serve me to that end had vanished. Now I wasfull of joy, although I watched the King's face anxiously.
For some reason the suggestion seemed to occasion him amusement; yet,although for the most part he laughed openly without respect of matteror person, he now bent over his little dog, as though he sought to hidethe smile, and when he looked up again it hung about his lips like themere ghost of mirth.
"Why not?" said he. "To Dover, by all means. Mr Dale can serve you, andme, and his principles, as well at Dover as in London."
I bent on one knee and kissed his hand for the favour. When I sought todo the like to Monmouth he was very ready, and received my homage mostregally. As I rose, the King was smiling at the pair of us in awhimsical melancholy way.
"Be off with you, boys," said he, as though we were a pair of lads fromthe grammar school. "Ye are both fools; and James there is butindifferently honest. But every hour's a chance, and every wench anangel to you. Do what you will, and God forgive your sins." And he layback in his great chair with a good-humoured, lazy, weary smile, as heidly patted the little dog. In spite of all that all men knew of him, Ifelt my heart warm to him, and I knelt on my knee again, saying:
"God save your Majesty."
"God is omnipotent," said the King gravely. "I thank you, Mr Dale."
Thus dismissed, we walked off together, and I was awaiting the Duke'spleasure to relieve him also of my company, when he turned to me with asmile, his white teeth gleaming:
"The Queen sends a maid of honour to wait on Madame," said he.
"Indeed, sir; it is very fitting."
"And the Duchess sends one also. If you could choose from among theDuchess's--for I swear no man in his senses would choose any of HerMajesty's--whom would you choose, Mr. Dale?"
"It is not for me to say, your Grace," I answered.
"Well," said he, regarding me drolly, "I would choose Mistress BarbaraQuinton." And with a last laugh he ran off in hot pursuit of a lady whopassed at that moment and cast a very kindly glance at him.
Left alone, but in a good humour that the Duke's last jest could notembitter, I stood watching the scene. The play had begun now on a stageat the end of the hall, but nobody seemed to heed it. They walked to andfro, talking always, ogling, quarrelling, love-making, and intriguing. Icaught sight here of great ladies, there of beauties whose faces weretheir fortune--or their ruin, which you will. Buckingham went by, fineas a galley in full sail. The Duke of York passed with Mr Hudleston; mysalute went unacknowledged. Clifford came soon after; he bowed slightlywhen I bowed to him, but his heartiness was gone. A moment later Darrellwas by my side; his ill-humour was over, but he lifted his hands incomical despair.
"Simon, Simon, you're hard to help," said he. "Alas, I must go to Doverwithout you, my friend! Couldn't you restrain your tongue?"
"My tongue has done me no great harm," said I, "and you needn't go toDover alone."
"What?" he cried, amazed.
"Unless the Duke of Monmouth and my Lord Arlington travel apart."
"The Duke of Monmouth? What have you to do with him?"
"I am to enter his service," I answered proudly; "and, moreover, I'm togo with him to Dover to meet Madame d'Orleans."
"Why, why? How comes this? How were you brought to his notice?"
I looked at him, wondering at his eagerness. Then I took him by thearm, and I said laughingly:
"Come, I am teachable, and I have learnt my lesson."
"What lesson do you mean?"
"To restrain my tongue," said I. "Let those who are curious as to theDuke of Monmouth's reasons for his favour to me, ask the Duke."
He laughed, but I caught vexation in his laugh.
"True, you're teachable, Simon," said he.
